This was one of those classic New Zealand days where everything feels stitched together by nature itself. We kicked off the morning at the legendary Driving Creek Railway a narrow-gauge wonder that snakes through native forest like someone dropped a toy railway set into Middle-earth and it somehow came to life.
Our carriage for the day?
Snake No. 3
A tiny red engine with more character than half the rental cars in the Coromandel.
The girls loved it. Georgia hopped on like she owned the line, and Dotty had that nervous look. We wound through clay artwork, tunnels shaped like faces, bridges barely wider than the tracks and finally reached the Eyeful Tower lookout. The view stretched all the way across the peninsula, green hills folding into blue bays like postcards overlapping each other.
After the train ride, we grabbed some lunch and headed inland for the afternoon’s adventure: a short walk to a hidden waterfall on the Waiau River.
The bush was thick, cool, and humming, and then out of nowhere the waterfall roared into view not massive, but powerful, pouring over dark rock into a deep green pool.,Ali took in the calm, and we just soaked up another pocket of this endless New Zealand magic. The kind you don’t plan; it just finds you.
And because we never end a day quietly, the evening pulled us back to Wharekaho Beach, our new little corner of the world.
The weather had finally cracked open blue sky, soft light, and the bay turning turquoise. The girls ran straight to the black-sand patches (which up close look like someone spilled charcoal and glitter together). They built one of the most chaotic sandcastles of the trip, a mix of sludge, shells, and determination. It looked… well, “textured”, but proud of it.
Ali was packing inside while I kept an eye on the tide and the two mini engineers one trying to make their castle survive the other dirty smasher trying to demolish it.
Families walked dogs. The whole beach had that late-day hush that makes you feel like part of the landscape.
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