Whitecliffs Boulders

Look at these photos. Just look. I took hundreds and there honestly wasn’t a single bad one. This place is amazing! Beautiful, otherworldly… straight out of a fairy tale. And I bet you never knew it existed.

It’s called Whitecliffs Boulders. It’s in New Zealand, of course, kind of near Taihape. You know, the place with the giant gumboot? Follow State Highway 1 south a bit, through Mangaweka and out into the wop-wops.

Like, a fair bit out into the wop-wops. You’ll end up driving so far down a dodgy-looking road, you’ll start to lose confidence in your path, but keep going. Our two-berth campervan made it, but I would have been concerned in anything bigger. We had to swerve to avoid an escaped lamb at one point.

The Whitecliffs Boulders are on someone’s private farmland. There isn’t really a car park; you park next to a gate, surrounded by sheep, and pop a fiver into the honesty box. Oh yeah, make sure you bring the correct amount of cash.

I also recommend you bring wellies – or, as Kiwis call them, gumboots – as it’s a bit of a muddy trek to reach the boulders. You follow a non-existent path through some boggy sheep pastures and down a steep dirt road. I kept slipping in my poor, unfortunate trainers.

The walk there’s not too bad, though take a picnic for when you get to the boulders, as you’ll need plenty of energy for the walk back! Also, there’s a clearing in which the owner has placed some little tables and chairs, which makes for a charming scene.

The boulders are scattered about a miniature forest on a riverbank, all winding pathways and fairy ponds, and they are MAGICAL. Like, how did I not know about this place years ago? It’s the perfect setting for fairies and trolls. Even when it started to rain, I didn’t want to leave.

But leave, we had to, as we were getting soaked. Easier said than done. The rain had turned the muddy road into a full-on mudslide. And not the sort of mud that comes off. The sort that sticks to the soles of your shoes until you’re wearing heavy, grey platforms.

Next thing I knew, I was sliding uncontrollably downwards, coating my arse, arms, legs and backpack in a thick, cold, cement-like layer of mud that I had to scoop off with mud-and-sheep-shit-clogged fingers.

Walking (and climbing on all fours up the mudslide) back to the campervan took a whole age of this world. And a lot of involuntary screams of terror on my part, every time I slipped. My fiancé was worried the farmer would think he was murdering me!

We had to strip to our underwear so as not to smear mud all around the inside of the campervan. I really hoped the farmer wouldn’t choose now to show up! We’d have to chisel the mud off our clothes later.

So, if you too want to visit the magical Whitecliffs Boulders, remember to take: sturdy shoes and clothes you don’t mind sacrificing to the mud sprites, five dollars in cash, and sufficient sustenance. Oh, and insect repellent.

Also, be warned that there’s no cellphone reception and you need to be able-bodied. And don’t go in a vehicle you wouldn’t trust on a narrow, steep and winding gravel road that may or may not be half-crumbling down a cliff at one point.

But don’t let any of the above put you off. For me, the fantastical sight of the boulders in the forest was more than worth the battle with the mud sprites. I mean just look at the photos!