Year: 2006

At some point while we were in Rotorua, Julie, Raf, and I decided that we would go skydiving.

I’m not quite sure how this came about. I reckon it’s that I mentioned the next stop the group on the Stray bus was making was to Taupo and a lot of people were planning to skydive there. They had asked whether I would, and my answer had been: “Well, I’m not going there on this trip, but if I was, then I guess so…”

Somehow, this answer ended up convincing the three of us to call and book a jump for Sunday morning. After Julie made the call, we really weren’t sure what we had gotten into. Don’t people usually think about skydiving for months before deciding to go for it? Wasn’t I supposed to have weeks of sleepless nights as I prepared mentally for the experience?

Anyway, the call was made on the Saturday and we were scheduled to go up in the plane from the Taupo airport early Sunday morning – so long as the beautiful weather held out. I would then stay in Taupo and take a bus the following morning to attempt making the Tongariro Crossing (a very challenging 6-9 hour walk across the country round Mt Tongariro).

We spent Saturday afternoon enjoying many of the things the Rotorua area offers: Lady Knox Geyser’s eruption at Waiotapu; the splendors of a float in the naturally hot (and free!) Kerosene Creek; and, Zorbing! All of the above were wonderful, but we were so glad we went zorbing. I think we’d all first heard about this concept in an episode of the Amazing Race set in New Zealand. To zorb, you get zipped into a big plastic ball (filled with a bit of water if you like) and choose whether you want to roll down the hill in a straight line or a zigzag. We all opted for the zigzag route. It’s a lot of fun – you usually come out totally drenched and want to go down the hill again almost immediately!

We were back at the Crash Palace that evening and I think we slept surprisingly well considering that we were at least a bit anxious about the tandem skydiving awaiting us the next morning.

We woke to a sunny, clear morning. And Julie and I wondered again what we had gotten ourselves into. The skydiving company had told us to call that morning to confirm whether the jump was still on – sometimes the weather is different in Taupo, or the conditions could just be too windy for skydiving.

Turned out that the weather wasn’t looking so hot and sunny in Taupo – to our temporary relief, the skydiving was cancelled. We were told to call back 30 minutes before the scheduled jump time.

By the time we got to Taupo, it was raining quite steadily. And it was gray and miserable out. Julie and I didn’t mind, though. I think we were much happier to have a day wandering in the small, touristy town. It turns out that there is even a Scannell St. in Taupo! This was a first for me. It also turned out that the weather didn’t look promising for the Tongariro Crossing – being able to do the walk is an extremely weather-dependent activity, so I decided it was a better idea to drive back to Auckland with Julie and Raf and head up to the Bay of Islands instead.

Julie and Raf met me in Rotorua, where we stayed right in the heart of everything at a little hostel called Crash Palace. This was almost directly across from the Polynesian Spa, where we pool-hopped from waters ranging between 28 C and 34 C (it was very relaxing, even though we found an hour there to be enough time for us to enjoy it).

Julie and Raf only arrived in New Zealand a few months ago, so there were still many things on their list of sights to see. One of these was White Island, an active volcano in the Bay of Plenty region.

Since the Bay of Plenty is not far from Rotorua, we decided to head to White Island from there. We left Rotorua early in the morning, just hoping that the water wouldn’t be too rough for us to land on the shores of the island. Since there isn’t a full docking area (the boat pulls up close to the shore and passengers are transported to the small dock by way of dingy), the water and weather have to cooperate in order for a visit to the volcano to be possible. We knew ahead of time that the water would be rough. I had been on boats a lot over the course of my trip, and this was by far the roughest water I had seen. I think all three of us (and the rest of the passengers, probably) were struggling to keep our breakfasts from resurfacing. Unfortunately, one of us didn’t have much success…

We were relieved to finally reach solid ground again, even if solid ground in this case meant an active volcano. Just before we arrived, we each received a hard hat and gas mask – both mandatory for us to be allowed to step foot on the island. There is always volcanic activity of some sort on White Island, so you never really know whether rocks might go flying into the air suddenly or if there might be a flash flood. At first we didn’t think we would need the gas masks, but then the sulphur dioxide-scented steam really got to us and we were glad that we had them handy.

Although we didn’t have any life-or-death moments while visiting White Island, it turns out that our guide had worked for the tour company at the time of the last major eruption on White Island (which wasn’t all that long ago) and they had been doing tours of the island up until 4 weeks before the eruption. If the water hadn’t been so rough, they easily could have been on the island when the volcano erupted. There were signs that an eruption was on the way but it’s difficult to predict exactly when it’s going to happen. Within days after the eruption, they were back on the island again (once the waters were calm enough, that is).

There is a camera set up to monitor White Island, so you can follow the volcanic activity from a distance if you are interested: Volcano Camera, White Island crater. Apparently, traffic to the site increased dramatically after someone planted a small Dino figurine in front of the camera. Neat way to get people interested in science!

On our way back to Rotorua, we stopped in at Hell’s Gate for a quick tour of (much tamer!) hyrothermal activity. We were glad we didn’t have to brave a boat ride to see the bursts of steam, bubbling mud, and acidic pools of water this time.

The Stray group is always looking for new and worthwhile things to add to their travel itineraries to expose visitors to New Zealand culture. Rob was quite excited on our way into Rotorua – he had just found out that Slim, the person who offers Stray travellers a night of Maori culture in the form of dinner and a show, had arranged for us to see a Maori weapons demonstration before our dinner on the night we arrived in Rotorua.

Rob had never seen a performance like this, so he was thrilled that it worked out for us. On this particular night, the group of 5 students met for their regular training. Watching them practice was along the lines of watching a karate demonstration, or any other martial art for that matter. We got to handle some of the traditional weapons ourselves (including ones that were once used to rip off the scalps of enemies – ugh, don’t want to think too much about that). A few people even got up to learn a couple of moves themselves.

After this, we went for dinner and the men in the group learned to do the haka (the traditional Maori dance that most of us have seen before thanks to the popularity of New Zealand’s national rugby team, the All Blacks, who perform the haka before the start of each rugby match). On the way to the dinner, most of the guys had said they were shy about getting up in front of everyone to learn this. Once called up, however, they were eager and seemed to take learning the haka very seriously.

Later that evening, we got to see a play about a Maori legend. It was a good way for us to have an introduction to some Maori history (in an entertaining format). I must admit that the style of the play wasn’t entirely up my alley, but the actors really got the audience involved (and didn’t embarass me personally – others were pulled onto the stage to take part, and I was just relieved that it wasn’t me!).

This was my last stop on this trip with the Stray bus and I went to meet up with Julie and Raf at the sure to be lovely Crash Palace hostel in Rotorua.

One thing I knew I wanted to do in New Zealand was blackwater rafting. What this involves is sitting in an innertube and floating through caves in the dark. And checking out the glowworms, which are the larvae of the fungus gnat and glow a greenish sort of light as they dangle from the ceiling.

After leaving Hahei, we headed straight for Waitomo, where we knew we would find glowworms, caves, and the opportunity to go blackwater rafting. Those of us who signed up for the TumuTumu TOObing got decked out in wetsuits, rubber boots, hard hats and head lamps, before making the trek to the cave. For some reason, I expected the activity to involve a lot of sitting in a rubber raft of some sort. I couldn’t really have been more wrong.

We walked for quite a while through Shire-like terrain to get to the entrance to the TumuTumu Cave. Then we had to work our way backwards, one by one, down a rickety ladder into the cave. Once we were all in and accounted for, we began the more than 2 hours of climbing/sliding/swimming/floating through the caves. It was a bit like the Cango Caves that I visited with Cullen when we were in South Africa. And by this, I mean challenging! And this time were were told to not touch any of the stalactites or stalagmites, since they were more likely to break than to support us as we manoevered through the tight spaces (though, thankfully, not as narrow as many of the spaces in the Cango Caves). And we had water and mud and many sharp surfaces to deal with.

In the long run, I think I felt safer in these caves because of the water. I had been very afraid of falling in the Cango Caves (I had slipped on the ice in Canada in the not-too-distant past and I didn’t want to damage my knees or tailbone any further), but I found that wearing boots, a wetsuit, and a helmet made me feel a little tougher this time – at least my ankles, knees, and head would have some protection if they came in contact with the hard and slippery surroundings. But if you ask the people I was with whether I seemed calm, I think you’d get a different response. The person who sat behind me when we had to grip each other’s feet to link the tubes together said that she thought the circulation in her legs would be cut off if I held on any tighter.

At last we made it to the end of the cold, wet journey, and bid farewell to the glowworms and the dark. It was wonderful to take off the sort of clammy wetsuits and dump out the water that had collected in our well-used rubber boots.

Once everyone was back on the bus, we headed off for the next destination and the place where I would stop off for a few days: Rotorua (which I was told is nicknamed ‘Roto Vegas,’ probably because of the dazzling array of things people can do in the area).

I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to get around New Zealand.

Now compared to Canada, South Africa, and Australia, New Zealand is not a very large country. Still, I figured that visiting different parts of it would involve more than hopping on a local bus and ringing the bell when I saw somewhere I wanted to stop. I’d heard that the best way to really see the country was to rent a car and travel around it, but I wasn’t eager to do all that driving myself. I was also a bit afraid that I would get it into my head that I could in fact see the entire country in 2 weeks, and that if I was left to my own devices I would try to do this (and then possibly end up hours from an airport in the South Island, moments before my flight was scheduled to leave Auckland in the North Island… ).

Fortunately, my friend Mel had been to New Zealand recently and had a good sense of what I was looking for in terms of getting around. She suggested that I sign up with Stray Travel – I managed to visit the Stray office my second day in Auckland and booked a couple of sectors of travel with them right away. I was all set to head off to explore the North Island first thing on Tuesday morning.

What appealed to me about Stray is that it seemed to be a very relaxed travel company. The brochure mentioned that you shouldn’t travel with them if you don’t like to walk (I love to walk!). They also pride themselves on taking people off the beaten track (sounds good to me!). And they said that the drivers can change the schedule depending on what comes up (I’m flexible!), and that you shouldn’t panic or anything if your driver doesn’t show up at precisely the time given (I’m even flexible about punctuality!) – they’ll always show up, just not absolutely according to a totally set schedule.

So I tried my best to get myself to the meeting spot at the right time on Tuesday morning. It’s always my fear that I’ll be the one holding everyone up, and I didn’t want that to be my introduction to the group. I was a little embarassed that I wasn’t travelling with just a simple backpack – I’d left my petite yet hefty backpack at Julie and Raf’s place, since the smaller bag (with wheels, much to the delight of my back and shoulders but to the extreme horror of my wannabe backpacker sensibilities) which I had acquired along the way was actually a whole lot easier to pack.

I was told to be outside the Stray office by 7:50 am. Or, well, 8 am. Well, between 7:50 and 8… anytime around then should be fine. And if I somehow missed the bus, it wouldn’t be a problem for one of the people from the office to drive me over to where the bus would be. So it all sounded easy. I left Julie and Raf’s place around 7:45 am, and made it to the office a few minutes before 8, and started to wait. And wait. And worry (a little) but I didn’t want the staff to know in case they thought I was one of those people who had to do everything according to a schedule and maybe wasn’t cut out for their kind of travel after all. I just wondered whether somehow I had already missed the bus, and should already be asking for that ride to meet it before it left the city.

Around 8:20 am or so, my driver Rob (aka “Pops,” since he was older than most of the other drivers but apparently not as old as the one they called “Gramps”) pulled up in front of the Stray office. Phew! It was such a relief to see him. And he didn’t even make any snide remarks when he tossed my wheeled bag into the storage compartment (I was very pleased about this!).

I was the only one getting on at the Stray office, so we left from there to pick up the others. Fourteen people, all located at hostels around Auckland. And if I thought I looked relieved to see Rob pick me up, it was probably nothing compared to how relieved some of these people were. It turns out that when one of the girls on the trip booked her ticket (from Australia), she was told to be ready at 7:30 in the morning. She had been waiting outside her hostel for more than an hour before the bus pulled up! But no one was upset about the later-than-expected start, and we were soon on our way to Mt Eden.

Mt Eden is the highest volcanic cone in the Auckland area (OK, I got this fact from Lonely Planet), and from its summit you can see a great view of the city. But what really impressed me was that the crater is filled with grass. And cows. Cows! The cows were grazing on the grass. I was totally surprised. After being caught a bit off-guard by all the trees inside Rangitoto’s crater, I truly didn’t expect to see just grass inside Mt Eden. And I never expected to see cows. When I asked Rob about this, he said that local farmers are paid to bring their cows there to graze – it helps preserve the archaelogical site.

After driving down Mt Eden, we were finally on the road – out of Auckland, and on our way to the Coromandel Peninsula on the east side of the country. We stayed at a campsite in Hahei (no tents required) and were able to walk to Cathedral Cove that afternoon. Most of the walking I had done in Australia required footwear, and by this they meant that you should wear flip-flops (or ‘thongs’ as they call them). It was warm when we reached Hahei, so I was eager to take off my woolen hiking socks and put on my ‘jandals’ (kiwi term for thongs). When Rob saw me come out of the cabin like this, he asked whether I had any proper shoes along – apparently, the walk was going to be more challenging than I had expected! I was so glad he had encouraged us not to wear sandals for the walk. Like Rangitoto Island, it wasn’t too tough a walk but it would have been very uncomfortable (and possibly dangerous) in just flimsy jandals.

The walk was beautiful. I’ve never seen so many rainbows in my life.

We returned to the campsite around 5 pm, and headed off for Hot Water Beach around 6 pm. This was one of those really neat things that you hope you can do in New Zealand but that I wasn’t sure I would get the chance to do. Rob picked up the necessary spades for us, and dropped us off at the parking lot near the beach with instructions to just look for the people lying close to the rocks and start digging around there.

We found the people – lots of them. Way more than Rob had expected. What was harder to find were free places to dig. It seemed like everyone else had got there early and already dug the prime places. Eventually, our group figured out what to do and we ended up with some nifty hot water bathing holes. You dig a hole big enough for a few people to lounge in, then let it naturally fill with hot water and get in and enjoy. Some of the places were so hot that we could see the water bubbling through the sand. At times, I could even feel my toes burning. Then the tide would come in (we were very close to the edge of the beach and really couldn’t be any closer to the water), and we would be flooded by cold water.

When we were ready to go, we went back to the campsite for a BBQ. Earlier that day, Rob had told us about his family’s ancestry – like many people in New Zealand, he is part Maori. Just before we ate, he led us in a Maori prayer (this felt very appropriate).

The next day we were off again, with one additional person added to the group (she had jumped off the Stray bus a day or two earlier and stayed in Hahei longer than the others in her group). This time, our destination was Raglan, a beach area on the opposite side of the North Island. Somewhere along the way, I decided that I would sign up for the surfing lessons that are offered there. It was fun, but I don’t think I’ll be signing up for a surfing contest anytime soon. I’m better at it than I am at snowboarding, but that really isn’t saying much. At least learning to surf doesn’t really hurt!