Port Jackson

We stayed two nights in Port Jackson at a Department of Conservation campsite on the far northern tip of the Coromandel Penninsula. Apparently so far out locals from only 100km away have never heard of the place. But they’re missing out.

Unfortunately for us, on this particular weekend, the only time you could appreciate the grand beauty of the area was during short intermittent breaks in the rain soaked clouds when the sun peaked out. Otherwise, it was wind and rain for most of our stay.
Our first night we pitched our tents in strong winds then found shelter in our little hatchback, routinely checking on our tents to ensure they hadn’t been blown to sea. I hammered in every peg I could find to secure my tent to the ground. But still, my night was filled with dreams of desperately trying to hold onto my tent in the gushes of wind or scrambling to safety as the powerful waves consumed my belongings. 

I woke up in the morning just fine. In fact, the next day there was a break in the clouds and we seized the opportunity to go on a hike along the hilltops that surround the campground. 


Up a few steps, across a cattle pasture, over electric fences, safely down steep cliffs then up again, we found ourselves on the tip edge of the rock looking out to the water. The winds were strong, but the views were breathtaking.




And, to finish up our little trek for the day, as I climbed back over the electric fence and reached to help my friend over safely, I got a surprise shock, straight through my whole body. I jolted, confused at what had happened. Luckily, I wasn’t right beside the rocky cliff and was able to jolt in the safety of the cattle pasture. 

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