Whaririki Beach
There are lying-on-a-blanket beaches, beachcombing beaches, and swimming beaches, and then there are the rare beaches like Whaririki which enrapture with majestic vastness , the scuptural opera of sea, wind, stone, life, and sand dancing together for eons. The western edge of NZ has been experiencing massive uplift over the last few million years, and as the ocean cut into this rising stone it formed great cliffs that back every west coast beach, generating cubic miles of sand that is lashed by wind, cemented by spray, then carved by wind again into a tapestry of organic patterns that extend unbroken for square miles between dreadnoughts of rock made of flowforms of wind and sea, arches and swoops, towering like great castles, their feet blanketed by mussels, seaweed, and myriad tidal creatures (including anemones that, when closed, look like shiny cabernet grapes but feel pillowy and soft when touched), crowned by exotic hanging gardens of windswept tea trees, alpine flowers, and palms.
After experiencing the beach, we climbed up to explore the edges of the cliffs that line the coast, the brilliant expanse of empty space over the Antarctic ocean on one side, on the other a Suess-y picture of grassy pasture dense with sheep shit, festooned with comically exotic palms and gnarled tea trees. Ridiculous views in every direction. Constant gale-force winds threatensssss to push us off at any moment. We duck over a lip of a hill and find a calm, warm pocket of air where we can rest for a moment, eat a couple of oranges and take in the glory. Swallows hurtle overhead, twist and dive over the treed cliffs below. A day like no other, under the stark brilliance of ozone-free sunshine.
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