Wild camping was extinguished by kamakaze insects that sneak attacked from the brush bordering the beach. We fled and the next perfect place never seemed to appear. The Tasman Sea was to our right- deep blue with giant cliffs randomly rising up out of the water. To our left were patches of green with hydrangeal pom poms springing up bursting in indigo. Darkness fell upon us and miles of road before us with not even a shoulder much less a pull off. Winging-it is so joyful in the moment of decision..it gifts you with an instant chunk of time otherwise spent making a plan…but there is a statistically large chance that a payback period will come at the end of the wing-it cycle. We were in pay back mode...for hours. We also enjoyed payback from our lack of planning on internet fees and lack of connectivity issues. We later found out an option exists to buy a telecom device. We have to just swallow these pills and remember the wing-it dividend we cashed out up front.
We finally reach the next town and start combing the back streets for a place to park and this guy appears out of nowhere and tells us about the caravan park he is in that has spaces. A tight parking lot with a clean bathroom.. and of course the makeshift board room/kitchen area for hub to converse in until the wee hours of dawn. He just drove for hours now has to go to work in the communal kitchen. We find out in the AM as we pull ourselves out of bed to adhere to the 10 am check out (we let the kids zzzz on in the overhead bunk) that we could have had a spot on the beach with another 100' of exploration. Wing-it robbery. What are you going to do? We move the compressed-wood wagon to the beach spot and made breakfast. Off to Franz Josef.