After booking in at the city-centre park we walked into town for a cheap and cheerful meal at the Breakers bar and cafe, returning just in time to miss the worst of some heavy rain, and in Eric's case to miss treading on a hedgehog claiming right of way across the campsite.

It being Sunday, the next day we had a bit of a lie-in, and it was after 9am by the time we emerged into intermittent sunshine and a cool-ish wind. After a leisurely breakfast we drove south a few miles along the coast towards Kidnappers Point, named by Captain Cook after a little local difficulty with the Maori. When the road ran out we walked through a somewhat tired-looking camp site and down onto the pebble beach for a few hundred yards, overtaken periodically by local fishermen on quad bikes and local youths on motorbikes. The cliffs above us were impressive, if just a little fragile in appearance, and we had no difficulty in heeding the advice on the notice board to avoid lingering close to the rock-face, and to be wary of the tide cutting off our retreat.