Stoned at the beach

The last section of the West Coast highway took us from Fox to the rather unimpressive village of Haast, named after the German explorer who was brown nosing the Austrian emperor by naming a glacier after him πŸ™‚

On the way we passed Bruce Bay, where hundreds of white pebbles from the driftwood beach are covered in messages from all over the world:

Monro Beach a little further down the road was another amazing tip we got from Emma at the iSite back in Motueka. An easy one hour walk through dense rainforest took us to a beautiful pebble beach. Maybe it is a good thing that it is not really mentioned in the Lonely Planet and we almost passed the tiny road sign, because there were only a handful of other people there with us:

Inspired by our freedom camping the night before we were eager to find another cool camping spot close to Haast. Too bad the beachside spot we found was either too sandy or too rocky for us to put our tent up. In hindsight we should have just stayed there anyway and slept on the sand, because the only other option was a very disappointing hostel in Haast. At least the pub next door was good and we spent the evening with spare ribs and beer watching the New Zealand All Blacks win the Wellington Rubgy Sevens.

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