It felt wrong packing for an outdoors
holiday as a storm raged around me.
A last-minute search for accommodation nabbed
us somebody else’s cancellation and saw us heading south for a change to a holiday
park new to us Northlanders. The atmosphere in the village-type campground was
humming as everyone went about their business. Long-time mostly Auckland
returnees, friendships had long been formed and we were the newbies – barely anyone
looked up as we arrived at our beach-front cabin where the sea had been sucked
out into the distance.
But, as it transpired, both our neighbours
were at the ends of their holidays and probably wary with it after withstanding
the storm. The following morning we awoke to find the tide had been and gone
and our neighbours followed suit.
They were replaced with two new families
who, like us, were fresh with pre-holiday anticipation. We had two little girls
to our left, shyly eyeing up my little girl and digging sand castles out the
front of their cabins to try and entice each other over. And to our right, the
arrival of 11-year-old twin boys sporting NBA basketball caps piqued the
interest of my own NBA-mad 11-year-old.
They bonded over a life-size chess match and
a game of Man Hunt followed, accruing more boys, Pied-Piper-style, along the
way.
Meanwhile, the little girls had merged their sandcastles while us adults
sat conversing on our sun-drenched, water-front porches, watching the elusive tide
finally roll in.
With the arrival of the ocean and good
weather, the beach came to life. The clear water lapped up to the porch where
we sat and watched all the colourful Christmas presents make an appearance;
drones, couch sea biscuits accompanied to tunes from someone’s water-proof blue
tooth speaker in the ocean. Kids bombed off the jetty out front and we kayaked
and swam and explored the tracks with picturesque views at the top.
Camp activities were held every day for the
kids, along with assembling for the regular lolly scramble. The weather turned
out so stunning, they didn’t go near the games room or library, let alone the
bag of rainy-day activities I’d packed, lest we get cabin fever. Even my Master
11 with the broken arm was kept entertained with barely a moan.
And all too soon, our holiday was over. As
we reluctantly packed up to return to reality, new families were setting in –
their kids shyly eyeing up the ‘veterans’ of the holiday park.
While we are heading to our usual glorious
spot in Northland next week, we’re pleased we ventured outside our comfort
zone; As well as good luck with the weather, we chanced upon a real gem with
this holiday spot. On the way out, we put our name on the waiting list to
return next year because this is how, in the perfect setting, friendships and
memories are made.
