🗓️ October 22, 2025

🏁 Kilometers : 40

I wake up at 4:00 AM. I slept quite well, and since I can't fall back asleep, I start packing my things and preparing breakfast. The others wake up gradually as I finish eating. I'm the first to start walking. Dawn is breaking; it's still a little dark, but perfectly adequate for navigation. A kind of morning mist clings to the coast, creating a unique, timeless atmosphere. The first 4 kilometers are over small hills covered in Manuka trees. It's calm, even though the waves crashing against the rocks a little further out thunder with a continuous roar. I reach the top of the last hill, and before me, a series of steps lined with low trees wind their way down, plunging a hundred meters or so before ending on a seemingly endless beach: the view is breathtaking. Before my eyes lies the legendary Ninety Mile Beach. This stretch of sand, actually 55 miles (85 km) long, is the first big challenge of the journey. 85 kilometers of sand in a perfect straight line, the ocean crashing with waves, and a few dunes bordering the beach: this will be my only scenery for the next three days.I've already covered 4 kilometers in the hills; 25 more on the beach await me today ; 30 kilometers tomorrow; and another 30 kilometers the day after that.

After descending a good flight of steps, I take my first steps onto the wild beach. The hills behind me, I face a flat expanse of dizzying immensity. I can only see 3-4 kilometers ahead, the coastal fog rising from the ocean blocking my view. How exciting! I feel like I'm the only person on the planet. And I am, all alone! My planet for the next few days is this stretch of sand. I walk, getting closer to the ocean. I try to find the right level; a little too low and my feet will get wet, a little too high and the sand will be too soft. Finding where the ground is firm enough allows me to move forward with less effort. I walk for hours, encountering only a driftwood stump, mussel shells, and sometimes a washed-up jellyfish. Every little mound that appears on the beach becomes a curiosity: a dead bird, a decomposing fish, a piece of coral, or a coconut. I even found what I think is a little penguin. Actually, it's a little penguin, the smallest penguin species in the world. It lives only in New Zealand and on the southern coasts of Australia.

The weather is perfect, sometimes sunny, sometimes covered with a few welcome clouds that avoid being too exposed to the sun. The sea breeze keeps me from feeling the heat. I reapply sunscreen several times; the sun is unforgiving here. The country has one of the worst UV rate on the planet. After about eight hours of hiking, punctuated by breaks, I spot in the distance the small rocky outcrop that shelters the evening's campsite. A strip of grass slopes gently uphill, facing the ocean. Idyllic!

I'm exhausted. Walking on the sand, although compact, is very tiring. I arrived quite early; it's only 2:15 p.m. I have time to pitch my tent and let it dry. Last night, the constant sea breeze created a drizzle that soaked the tent. So this early arrival is very welcome to dry everything out. A beautiful sunset to end the evening, and I go to bed, tired but content.