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02/01/2018

Day four
02/01/2018 We snuck out the front door for a bowl of muesli on the beach, the sky making a half-hearted attempt, the fluorescent grey not budging. Feeling slightly restless, we ran through the little side streets of Parapara beach, slowly feeling the ever-growing droplets of rain pierce our skin, soon to become weighted pellets and drenching us before we could make it back to the house. We changed into the driest clothed we could find while our family friends snuggled up in blankets for some pancakes. Without overstaying our welcome, we headed off back down the highway in search of this little town that everyone seemed to think we would love, Takaka. We had passed it briefly on our drive from Blenheim, and promised ourselves we would come back to fully inhale  all the colour and the character. Takaka was equally quaint and vibrant, rich with personality. There were hippies everywhere, someone living in every second vehicle parked up, people waking to brush their teeth on the …

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