TINKERBELL'S TRAVELS

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 170, 20 July 1935, Page 2 (Supplement)

TINKERBELL'S TRAVELS

THE HIGHWAY FROM COLVILLE.

(This week we pro motoring with Gwon Wetrber from the tiny settlement or Colville up the Cnpe as far as the road now goes.— Tinkerbell.) Dear Tinkerbell, — I have seen the many wonders of the. thermal district, the ijuiet beauty which pervades the coloured lakes of Rotorua, the grandeur of Mount Egmont outlined against a hazv sky. the dashing, stilling beauty of the Jluka Falls, the peaceful flowing waters of the "VYanganui, National Park in all its winter splendour, but not one of these sights can nearly approach the beauty of the roadway from Colville, a little insignificant cluster of cottages, to a* far up the Cape as the road now goes.

Years ago, when Colville was a centre of a famous gold mining district, it was quite a large township, boasting of a dozen hotels. But now nearly all traces of mines and miners have gone, and not one hotel remains to the little settlements of farmers.

.All rough, uneven and unformed, the road roams for the most part within about ten yards of the sea; then, after running inland a little, it emerges suddenly from an avenue of fine old native trees to dip down to meet the waters of one of the twelve streams which straggle between boulders across the King's Highway as if they had every right to hinder man and his contrivances. At every full tide a school of kahawai swim upstream as far as the ford, where they linger for well nigh two hours, feeding contentedly on choice morsels washed down from the ranges.

Once over this stream, we come to that part of the road and coastline which almost defies description. All about and above tower magnificent giant pohutukawas. These old warriors, with all their limbs gnarled, ragged and distorted with age, must have stood guard <m this same chore for nearly 300 years. The waves, sweeping in from the Ilauraki Gulf, wash over the little smoothened pebbles, and at full tide.the more veiifnresonie lap noisily around the base oi the giant trunks.

Nibbling the fine long green grass which carpets this whole area are sheep, which draw the attention of all who pass on account of the spotless white fleeces which they carry. Through all this natural beauty the little narrow grey road threads its wandering way.

Jiarly in the season all is clothed with a mantle of fallen blossoms from the grand old trees which surely, with all their scarlet flowers, must attract the birds and bees from as far away as Coromandel.

Because of the clearness of the morning, Whangarei Heads, Motntapu, and even old "Kangi," can plainly be discerned. As we wander slowly along the track (for it is no more) there is no soilnd save the gentle lapping of the waves, the songs of birds and an occasional call from a lamb, which alone reminds us that we must really be on earth and .not, as we imagined, in Paradise. But, indeed, is not New Zealand God's own country? Therefore this small, unfrequented spot must truly be an earthly Paradise. Yours sincerely, Gwen Webber.