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Hot springs on private lake beaches and a bum-clenching rafting trip over a seven metre high waterfall soon gave way to the beaches on New Zealand’s glorious Bay Of Plenty. Mount Maunganui with its beachside mountain was a surfers’ paradise, and so was Whangamata as we moved up the coast towards the Coromandel.
The coast of Whangamata
Talking of bum-clenching, Whangamata’s classic crescent of sand washed by sunshine and surf probably looked the same when there were just a few Maori about, so imagine how incongruous a sight a tardis-like ‘talking’ toilet was at the back of the beach. One confused and increasingly desperate woman was wandering around asking all and sundry how she could get in - to no avail. One random press of a shiny button got me through the door, only for the lock to slam shut instantly at the same time as Burt Bacharach began serenading me with ‘This Guy’s In Love’.
The muzak had barely registered when a deep American voice informed me that ‘You have ten minutes of use.’ So much for constipation, then. This place did everything bar politely enquire ‘Care for a pooh, sir?’ as you walked innocently past. As it happened, Waipu (whypoo) saved our butts later in the trip - thanks to a friendly garage attendant who showed us a shortcut through the seaside village to escape a major snarl-up on the one and only major road up to the Bay Of Islands.