There are lots of gems up north. Some well-known and well-travelled, others less so. Piroa Falls is one of the latter kind, though many still do make the drive on six kilometres of gravel to reach it.
We were lucky to catch a break in the mizzle-drizzle rain that day, though the clouds made the light lovely and soft.
We were also lucky to be by ourselves to enjoy the sight, just us and our gumboots.
The site is well-kept, but subtly. The path was a remnant of another era – hand-cut into rock – but there was also a modern concrete bridge to keep toes dry.
We had assumed that the rain would keep others away, but as we climbed back up the track to the road, we realised three new cars had pulled up. They headed down the track as we drove off, just as the rain started again.