Matt Dug A Hole

The flight over was about as uneventful as they come. In Aussie terms, we took off, banked right for about thirty seconds, lined up with Auckland, and then cruised in what felt like a perfectly straight line for the next two and a half hours before touching down.

By the time we’d collected our bags and picked up the campervan, hunger had fully taken over. So, for our first taste of New Zealand, we sought out something truly local... butter chicken and naan from the Westfield food court. Not exactly the wild boar or venison I’d imagined, but it hit the spot.

With our bellies full, we stocked up on road trip essentials: breakfast supplies, an unhealthy number of snacks, and a few tinnies. Priorities sorted.

Our destination for the night was Hot Water Beach on the Coromandel Peninsula, which, according to Waze, was "only" about a two-and-a-half-hour drive away.

Easy, we thought.

We were wrong.

The drive wound through what I can only assume was some spectacular scenery. Unfortunately, it was pitch black, and all our attention was focused on keeping the campervan between the lines while battling all four seasons and a few local hoons who clearly weren’t thrilled with our leisurely, nomadic pace.

We eventually rolled into camp unscathed, but mentally drained. We cooked ourselves a gourmet feast of two-minute noodles before promptly passing out, eager to see what daylight would reveal.

Morning certainly didn't disappoint.

We’re staying at the Hot Water Beach TOP 10 Holiday Park and, honestly, it’s one of the nicest holiday parks we've ever stayed at. There's a wood-fired pizzeria, a bar serving local craft beer, a heated pool, a spa, and spotless amenities. Not too shabby.

Today’s itinerary was dictated entirely by the tides. The whole reason we’d come here was to dig a hole in the beach and sit in it while nature provided us with our own personal hot spa. But low tide wasn’t until the afternoon, and we didn’t want to peak too early.

That left us with a few hours to kill, so we headed over to Hahei to check out the local scene and visit Cathedral Cove. Today's unofficial theme? Holes. First, we'd admire a hole in a rock, then we'd sit in a hole in the ground.

While dropping the kids off at the pool, I found myself browsing the light reading on the back of the toilet door. With no mobile reception out here, I imagine the back of the dunny door is prime advertising real estate. One ad that caught my eye was for a local family-owned brewery, our first stop for the day was decided.

Hahei is a small but beautiful coastal town with little more than a general store, a gift shop, a few cafes and, most importantly, the brewery we'd just discovered. Naturally, we stopped in for a couple of beers and a venison burger with a side of fried pickles, which was absolutely worth the detour.

Fuelled up and with a slight buzz in our step, we set off for Cathedral Cove.

The walk begins through private farmland, where the owner has created what I can only describe as a very tidy little business. Scan a QR code, pay a small entry fee, and you’re on your way. Even in the middle of winter, we passed at least half a dozen groups heading in, so I’d say he’s doing alright for himself. Come summer, or not, I reckon he’s practically printing money.

The track wound its way through scenery straight out of Middle-earth, a comparison I'll probably make far too many times on this trip, before opening onto brilliant white sand and deep blue water.

To our right, a waterfall tumbled onto the beach.

To our left, the famous hole in the rock we'd come to see.

Next stop: hole in the ground.

With spade in hand and boardies operating without their usual safety net (undies are in short supply), we headed down to Hot Water Beach ready to claim our slice of thermal paradise.

Given it was low season and the campground had looked pretty sparsely occupied, we assumed we'd have no trouble finding a spot.

We assumed wrong.

By the time we arrived, our fellow beach-digging comrades were already there in numbers, hunched over the sand like a colony of very determined crabs. It turns out the hot water doesn't just magically appear anywhere you choose to dig. There's only a narrow strip of beach where the thermal water bubbles up from beneath the sand. Hit it, and you’ve struck gold. Miss it, and you’re just sitting in a cold hole, wondering if you'll ever see your willy again.

We dug.

We missed.

We dug again.

Still cold.

After a few failed attempts and a growing suspicion that we had absolutely no idea what we were doing, we noticed a family packing up from what appeared to be prime geothermal real estate. The second they stepped away, we moved in with the speed and subtlety of seagulls attacking a hot chip.

From there, it was all hands on deck. We reinforced the walls and built a makeshift barrier between us and the icy South Pacific, which kept rolling in every few minutes like I had pissed it off at the pub earlier.

Eventually, though, we had it.

A steaming little beach spa, handmade, overlooking the ocean, with just enough hot water to keep you from turning blue...