Thames, the nearest town, lies at the southern end, and behind it the Coromandel Range rises in a long, dark, bushy wall. It is a landscape of wide skies and low light, with the tide drawing off across the mudflats and the hills turning from green to blue as the day wears on.
Thames was a gold town. In 1867 prospectors found rich quartz reefs in the hills above, and within a few years the population exploded, with dozens of batteries crushing ore day and night and hotels lining the main street. The boom did not last, but the buildings of that era, solid and elaborate, still stand in the old streets, and the School of Mines, with its collection of minerals and mining equipment, tells the story. The town now has seven thousand people and a relaxed, slightly faded air, with good cafés and a small market.
North from Thames, State Highway 25 follows the coast, a narrow and winding road that hugs the shore beneath huge old pōhutukawa trees that lean out over the water. In December they burst into crimson bloom, and the road is lined with red. The surface is generally good, but the bends are tight, the verge is narrow and the sea is close on one side and the cliff on the other. Inland, the Kauaeranga Valley road runs to the foot of the Pinnacles, a jagged volcanic ridge that is the goal of a famous day walk, with a hut at the top for those who want to see the sunrise.
Fuel and food are easy in Thames, which is about twenty-two kilometres away, and the small villages along the coast have cafés and shops, but stations are rare and some close early. Ngatea, on the plains to the south, is smaller, and Coromandel, a long ride north, is a good place to stop for the night. A swim is possible at several beaches on the coast road, though the Firth is muddy and the water is better on the eastern side of the peninsula. Fog can lie on the plains in the early morning, and summer holiday weekends bring a lot of traffic.