To the lighthouse

The walk's physical demands are offset by coastal views and comforting isolation.

It looked on the verge of collapse, its white skin peeling mercilessly, scarred with patches of rust after years of neglect. But after walking 20km over undulating terrain, the old lighthouse at Cape Brett in the Bay of Islands was a rejuvenating sight.

It didn't matter that the 14m-high icon was surrounded by signs shooing away intruders. After a day-long trek that sapped our energy and thrashed our knee joints, the sheer sight of the lighthouse gave us a renewed spirit of adventure.

And a diminished sense of self-preservation - what else could explain the urge to break in and stand atop a structure that looked as solid as a toothpick replica of the leaning tower of Pisa?

How we broke in is not important, but, on entering, it was clear we had stumbled on a treasure. The steep curving stairwells and antique furniture, along with a musty, character-building scent, gave the interior the feel of a historic playground.

But the real prize came after gingerly ascending the rusty ladders that led to its apex, an excellent platform from which to gaze at the fading colours of dusk shrouding the horizon in fiery orange and misty shades of blue.

It was a just reward - even more so as the lighthouse didn't crumble - after a day that started at an ungodly hour with a drive to Oke Bay, 29km from Russell. At this time of the morning, your mindset is not ideal for tackling what the Department of Conservation calls a "challenging track" for the fit and experienced; boots recommended.

The track meanders through a scenic reserve, over the peninsula's dragon-like spine; the reserve's seven peaks are symbolic of the seven waka said to have come from Hawaiki in the great Maori migration.

We set off and were quickly into a trend that was revisited several more times that day: uphill. The long, steady grind demanded repeated climbs of up to 300m, in the process causing heavy breathing, a number of involuntary breaks and the odd life-segment to flash before our eyes.

But the physical demands were constantly offset by panoramic coastal views and a comforting isolation, set against a backdrop of forest ridges dotted with cabbage trees, sheer cliff-faces and the lazy inlets that make up the Bay of Islands.

We detoured over lush, green grass to Deep Water Cove for a swim and to bask in the sun before the final surge over the 362m Rakaumangamanga. Or rather, the final tip-toe around Rakaumangamanga.

The climb over the track's highest point threatened to be the end of us as the ridge narrowed from both sides.

Our leg muscles felt vulnerable, fragile. Our shoulders ached. But the sheer sight of the cape - and its handsome lighthouse, resplendent in the soft light - was more than invigorating.