Through My Lens - The North Island of New Zealand

Wordless Wednesday

New Zealand Diary - A Rainy Windy Wellington

Monday, October 14, 2013

Rain and wind attack the car as we drive toward Wellington from Martinborough. While there are dark clouds in several directions, we find ourselves in a patch of sunny though rainy weather. A bright rainbow appears to our left and eventually becomes a full arch. We actually get close enough to the end of it to give thought to looking for a pot of gold. It disappears quickly as clouds darken the sky and we begin to climb into the mountains we need to cross. What lies ahead with this wind that has already proven it can shake the car like crazy?

Winding roads with signs that warn of “slippery when wet” and other signs that remind you that even in good weather the area can be windy only cause Bob to white knuckle the steering wheel and me to silently say a little prayer. We make it through and come out the other side to the same kind of weather. I had hoped it would change once we were over the mountains.

Wellington is the capital of New Zealand and is a large city like Auckland. It stretches out through a valley that we enter once we are through the mountains. These are the suburbs according to our map. It is a nice area to travel and the roads have straightened out a bit making it a little easier on the driver.

Lady Garmon leads us to our motel for the night which sits on a hill and overlooks the city. It would seem a nice view but not with horizontal rain whipping across everything. The Capital View Motor Inn has seen better days, I’m sure. We can tell by the lobby what to expect before even getting to our room which is not ready for us yet. We leave the car in the parking lot, bundle into our all-weather coats, and strike out for the information center a few blocks away.

We just miss the hop-on hop-off bus that we had planned to ride around. Another isn’t due for an hour and if we were to hop off anywhere, we are told there would be an hour wait for the next one. In this rain? No way. Instead we opt to hoof it to the cable car we wanted to ride which is about a ten minute walk. Much of the way is under cover of awnings provided by the shops, restaurants and businesses. The cable car ride up the mountainside is nice. The car is reminiscent of the early 1900s when the trams and cable cars were first built. A free museum at the top features several of the original cars and a great history of cable cars and trams in all of New Zealand. We enjoy a movie and the scenes depicted of the early 1900s.

Across from the museum is a little café with a view—well, the view would be wonderful if the wind was not whipping the rain around again. It is hard to complain too much when we have had nearly perfect weather to this point. We make light of trying to walk a straight line when the wind threatens to lift us off our feet. I now understand what those crazy weathermen feel like when they are out in a hurricane reporting on the wind and rain.

After a nice sandwich of chicken, cranberry sauce, and brie on a long roll along with a cup of tea, we take the cable car back down. Originally we’d planned to walk down but I am afraid we might actually fly without wings if we try to walk. 

At the bottom we explore our options again and decide to return to the Information Center and ride the bus around without getting off. The loop is supposed to take two hours and by then our room should be ready. When we go to get our tickets, we find that the bus is sold out. They try to talk us into a tour that costs more and is longer and doesn’t leave for another hour. Much as I don’t like museums, in weather like this and given the choice, I opt for the free museum in town rather than an expensive bus ride in the rain.

The Te Papa museum turns out to be delightful. There are all sorts of exhibits that show some funky wearable art, New Zealand’s geology as well as its plants and animals, a bit of Maori history, some political history, and one very huge giant squid. We wander through for almost two hours staying nice and dry and not being blown about.

Once outside again, I long for some shelter. The wind has not let up. The rain comes and goes. Surprisingly it is not terribly cold as you might imagine. We cross the pedestrian bridge again, find our way past the IC and back to the Motor Inn. Our room is ready and just as I imagined, it is a bit old and well used. But it’s clean and tidy and we’re only spending one night.

A pizza and a short walk in the evening and we try to settle in for the night. The wind is absolutely howling around our corner room. The rain is heavier and beats against the window. Television is impossible to watch as it is satellite and the reception completely breaks down every couple of minutes. “Looks like we’re watching through a kaleidoscope,” Bob quips. We opt to play cards.

 Drip. Drip. Drip. I look around to see if I left the faucet on in the kitchenette’s sink. Nope. Then my sock suddenly feels wet. I’ve stepped in a puddle on the floor. The source, it turns out, is the window. The rain is being whipped through the cracks around the window and is beginning to create its own little stream across the counter and onto the floor. I take the extra bath towel and do my best to plug the flow.

Bedtime and the wind is still howling but now we also have ambulance or police or fire sirens on a regular basis. I suspect there’s a hospital nearby or perhaps the wind has finally taken down some wires or trees or something. It takes a long time but we eventually fall asleep and wake early in the morning to find that the wind has taken a rest. The rain still falls but not as bad. Perhaps there’s hope for a good ferry ride to the South Island this morning.

New Zealand Diary - Martinborough, The Old Manse

Sunday, October 13, 2013

I wanted to take some time to tell you about The Old Manse where we stayed in Martinborough. Our hosts, John and Sandy, were delightful. The house has quite a history. It was built in 1876 and had five rooms and a thatched roof and served as home to 8 ministers over the years. For 28 years it was suitable but when Rev. James McCaw was called to the parish in 1904, it became evident with his large family that the home was not big enough. The Old Manse was enlarged by 1906 to the size it is today.

After 60 years of serving the ministers of the Presbyterian parish, the home was in need of repairs and renovation that were too burdensome for the church. The Old Manse was sold and a new one eventually built on another street nearby. After that, The Old Manse was owned by several families until finally being purchased by John and Sandy in 1999.

When John and Sandy purchased it the home was quite run down. Before and after pictures along with pictures of some of the ministers and their families who lived there are scattered throughout the hall and main area. The before-and-afters are amazing. John and Sandy paid attention to detail and definitely got it right. Even the light switches are period pieces. The only truly modern area is the kitchen but it blends in with all the other Victorian decoration.

When all the work was done, the church gave them permission to call it the Old Manse and they performed not only a Christian blessing but also a Maori blessing upon it. It is a number one rated bed and breakfast in the area.

At six, John and Sandy and a friend, Deb, come in with some refreshments and sit for a bit to visit with us. John tells us a little more about his adventures in restoring the home and shares his anticipation of retiring soon. Sandy shares a little of some of the memories of running the BB and I wondered how they are going to fair when it is over. They seem to truly enjoy the experience of meeting people. I’m sure there’s another side they won’t miss at all.

For us, it is a most enjoyable experience. We have the house to ourselves since John and Sandy live next door and there are no other guests this night. It is however a difficult night as the lovely pleasant breeze that was blowing in the afternoon becomes gale force wind in the night. An awning over the patio area flaps loudly every so often sounding like thunder.

John fixes us a delicious breakfast in the morning. Bob has baked beans with his eggs and I have tasty mushrooms with mine. The coffee is just right and we are set for our journey. I wonder what the day will be like driving to Wellington since the winds are due to continue for a day or two. Perhaps the weathermen don’t get it right all the time here either.

New Zealand Diary - A Wind Farm, Greytown and Martinborough

Sunday, October 13, 2013

The Mon Logis will be one of the B and Bs we remember for breakfast. Our host is French and once owned a café. His homemade croissants are melt-in-the-mouth good. And he makes a mean omelet. But today we say good bye to the croissants and begin our trip to Martinborough.

There’s not a whole lot on our schedule for today. Just two stops. The first is another farm—a wind farm. We arrive as dark clouds look like they are moving in. There is no lack of wind here and as we exit the car, it buffets us and makes me even more pleased that I got my hair cut short before we left. I’d never get the tangles out of longer hair after this.

The parking lot circles one of the windmills. We had gotten close to a windmill in Australia once but never directly under one. It is amazing. You can hear the blades cut through the air. Nearly 200 years ago scientists discovered that they could generate electricity by moving a magnet inside a coiled wire. While I don’t understand all the science apparently when the turbine’s blades move in the wind, they turn a shaft that connects with a magnetic rotor inside the generator at the top of the windmill. The spinning of the magnets creates electricity.

Each windmill is about 210 feet tall and generates enough electricity to power 900 homes. They need at least 14 kilometer per hour winds to turn the blades and each is capable of swiveling 360 degrees to find the wind direction. This place was chosen for the wind farm because of its constant winds.

The chilled wind chases me back into the car but I get one last shot of a string of windmills that the sun has decided to kiss. Bob joins me shortly. He takes the time to read the signs I’ll read later from the pictures I’ve taken of them.

I don’t remember when the realization struck us but we suddenly realized being Sunday, the library at Greytown probably wasn’t open and that was where we were supposed to get the information for the historical walk on our itinerary. Seeing the time, we decide to make a stop before in Masterton before we reach Greytown and get some lunch. In need of a restroom by that time, we head for the golden arches we see near where we park the car. We wonder if the beef is any better at McD’s. It’s not. But the sauce tastes the same.

On a short stroll through the town to stretch our legs a bit, we find several places we should have eaten instead of indulging in fast food. Offers of homemade soup and some intriguing sandwiches make us promise to check more carefully next time.

Greytown, a little while later, we find is bustling on this Sunday afternoon. With plenty of time left in our day, we stop and check out the information center that is open. They have the same tour that Bob had seen advertised online at the library. Actually there are two self-guided walks you can take. One visits historical buildings and the other historical trees. The lady kindly explains that Greytown played a big part in establishing Arbor Day in New Zealand and some of the trees originally planted are still standing. She mentions Ann Arbor as if it is related somehow and says she has relatives there. We extend our sympathies and try to explain the friendly rivalry between University of Michigan and the Ohio State University. Sort of like comparing the two biggest rugby rivals. She doesn’t quite get it until then.

Tucking the guide maps in a back pocket we decide to just stroll the main street and enjoy the sunny afternoon. The buildings have character and some remind me of old Wild West towns in America. Greytown was settled in 1854 and was a planned community set to become the capital city of the district. Unfortunately severe flooding from the nearby river caused the railroad to make other plans and Greytown became more a place for orchards and market gardens. But it did leave Greytown with lovely Victorian buildings that lent to wonderful renovations in the early 1900s and histories that we enjoy exploring for a while.  

We arrive in Martinborough. It is smaller than I had imagined. We stop by The Old Manse, our bed and breakfast for the night but don’t get an answer to the doorbell. We are a bit early so we drive into town. Town is just a large treed square with a few shops and restaurants surrounding it. Down the main street, are a few more places including a Wine Center that has information about the local wineries. This is a big area for wine making. We visit a few that are still open and stop at one that has a small café and have a snack. We order chips and aioli dip forgetting that chips here means fries. We have had more fries this past week and a half than we would have in a month or more back home. Still, it’s a nice snack, a lovely place to sit overlooking the grape vineyards and taking in the fresh breeze.

Little did we know that fresh afternoon breeze would turn into gale force winds by the evening.

New Zealand Diary - Napier, Gannets, Art Deco

Saturday, October 12, 2013

The Mon Logis our Bed and Breakfast has a historic marker at the front entry we hadn’t seen last night. It was first built as a terrace house in the late 1860s. In 1913 it was enlarged in the back to become the Capeview Private Hotel in 1915. It survived the huge earthquake that level a good bit of Napier in 1931 and was renovated later when it became the Mon Logis.

This morning we’ve decided to take a walk along the path that follows the beachfront into the city center. There is an information center there that we’ve already explored. Since the Hawkes Bay Scenic Train is not in season yet, we are off to the I Center to pick up a map of the self-guided Art Deco walk.

As we stroll the boardwalk, we suddenly discover a pod of dolphin frolicking near the shore. We stop and watch for a while. It appears they are feeding and kicking up extra food for the seagulls to feed off of. When they swim further down the beach, we turn to find a lady behind us watching them as well. Another friendly Kiwi encounter. She had just moved to Napier and was excited about the dolphins as well.

At the Information Center, we pick up the map we need. It costs less than half of what a guided tour would be per person and this way we can be on our own time schedule. We find the starting point and Bob begins to read about the art deco buildings as we walk. Basically, much of the town was rebuilt or restored during the 1930s after the big earthquake of 1931. Some of the buildings in between are much more modern but if you think Gatsby, you have a good idea of the atmosphere that is created by the art deco rage. Frank Lloyd Wright is mentioned often as having a big influence on the architecture of the time.

When we stop for tea and a rest, we discover in our conversation with the ladies there that a festival is held in February that lasts a week. Everyone dresses ala the period, Gatsby style, and the old cars come out and are paraded around. It’s great fun, we are told, and it certainly explains all the vintage clothing stores we’ve seen on our walk. There is one particular young woman at our church I think of who would absolutely love to attend that festival.

About 11:30 we start back to the Mon Logis to pick up our car. We need to be at a place call Cape Kidnappers by 1:15 for a special tour we’ve booked. Our drive out to the meeting point does not yield any good places to eat. We stop at what we fear might be the last takeaway place and order two hot dogs which are wannabe corn dogs without the cornmeal. The coating is more like a beer batter and the hot dogs inside have a red skin. The salt is enough to make us pucker. We eat enough to satisfy hunger, pitch the rest and continue on our way.

At the meeting place for the Gannet Safari Tour, we join four students from Germany and our guide who is just a delight. Jo drives us through a huge farm full of sheep and cattle and a golf course. Yes, a golf course. This farm, or station, is so large that the current owner decided to allot a part of it to a lodge and a golf course.

The further we go, the narrower the road until finally after passing through a couple of gates, we are on a graveled road winding up a precipice that overlooks the shore line and a valley full of sheep and cattle. Jo begins to explain that there are four colonies of Gannets here. Gannets are birds that look like a cross between seagulls and albatross but are actually related to the Booby family. Their wing span is about six feet, a bit smaller than the albatross.

This is nest building time and the males are appointed this task. Unfortunately they are not terribly good at it. They fly out to the shoreline and pick up seaweed and then try to get it all the way back to where the nest is to be built. Often they lose it on the way or when they land and drop it, it blows away.

The birds look so graceful in the air but a bit clumsy as they try to land in the middle of the colony with the wind whipping them around. I watch as some of them are rubbing heads and beaks, a type of courting move and then I see two who look like perhaps they are quarreling over a female. You can’t tell the males from the females by looking at them. They all look alike. But I guess they know the difference and that’s all that counts.

Jo tells us that the young Gannets make a flight over to the Australian coast and stay for a bit before returning. No one understands why they do it and why a few of them choose to stay in Australia. Most return to NZ though to stay and reproduce.

We gratefully sip on hot coffee while the birds entertain us with their flights and fights and merrymaking. It is a noisy bunch. This colony is on a high point but the other three are on lower levels including one colony along the beach.

On our way back Jo, who was once a farmer, tells us of some of the things she and her husband learned from raising cattle and sheep. She explains why it is best to put them together on a field. The cattle eat the higher grass and the sheep trim the lower grass keeping the fields looking as good as a golf course—provided you watch your step.

This farm we are driving through is also a bird sanctuary. Current and previous owners have gone to great lengths to rid the land of the predators, the stoats and weasels that prey on the kiwi and other birds of New Zealand. The kiwi population is growing on the farm.

The tour is three hours long but the time passes quickly and we’ve had such a great time, it is sad to see it come to an end. When we arrive back at our starting point, Jo gives us a map that shows us how we can get to the top of Te Mata, the ridge of stone we’ve seen across the valley. We follow her instructions and find our way to the top of a very windy lookout with an astounding view.

There is one more thing on our list to do before we can call it a day. We want to see the National Tobacco Company building which is supposed to be the iconic Art Deco building in Napier. We find it without any problem, do a Chevy Chase nod—seen it—and take off to find dinner. On the desired menu: lamb shank.

Wordless Wednesday

New Zealand Diary - Aratiatia Dam, Hobbits, Napier

Friday, October 11, 2013

We awake to rain. It had to happen sooner or later. The weather for our first week was outstanding. The good news is that the rain seems to have freshened the air and I don’t smell the sulfur as much as we load the car to start our day’s adventure. Today we will drive to Napier but along the way we have some interesting stops planned starting with a stop in the area where some of the filming for the Hobbit was done.

It is only 9:15 when we arrive at the Aratiatia Dam on the Waikato River. It sits above the Aratiatia Rapids which are pretty dry at the moment. Three or four times a day, the spillways of the dam are opened and the water cascades down 28 meters in a one kilometer area. Since we have some time before the scheduled 10 a.m. release, we walk over the bridge that is situated right in front of the spillways to get a feel for the area. Then we see the signs for two different viewing areas—a high point and a mid-point. We decide we have time to check them both our and find the one we like.

After hiking all the way up and getting a great panoramic view of the rapids, we decide we like the mid-point better. It’s a little closer to the action. Bob takes the lower part of the viewing area and I stand on the upper part. He’s taking video and is excited for it to begin. At 8 minutes before the hour, a siren sounds warning. Three more sirens at 2 minute intervals and suddenly we see the spillways begin to open.

It takes a little while for the water to pool near the spillways but soon we see it cascading over the rocks headed for us. We are well above the wet zone. You can see the level the water reaches by looking at where the moss has washed away. Everything in this area is mossy. Is it any wonder the film makers chose it?

The Hobbit film crew dropped around 25 barrels down the rapids from the dam’s spill gate each time there was a dam release. You can see it in the scene where Bilbo Baggins rescues the dwarfs from elves by hiding them in barrels that float downstream. No actors or stunt crew were actually in the barrels. Guess I have to see the movie now.

From the dam, it is just a short drive to our next stop, Huka Falls. Did I mention it was a rainy morning? Thankfully we get a bit of a reprieve while at the dam but the drizzle is a little heavier as we get out of the car to see the falls. I toss on my all-weather coat with a hood and hope it will keep me dry enough.

We cross over a bridge above the falls and it looks like a raging river. The Waikato River is one of the most voluminous and funnels into a narrow channel here before plunging over a 20 foot shelf. I haven’t seen water move this fast or powerfully since standing next to Niagara Falls. Looking at the actual falls on the other side makes me question just where all that water could go. Is it any wonder that the dam down river needs to be opened several times a day? Needless to say, there is a lot of hydroelectric power generated by this river. As a matter of fact, one of the signs we read says that it generates 15% of all power in New Zealand. Wow.

Leaving the falls area, the rain comes down a little harder. We find our way to another nearby attraction, the Craters of the Moon. It is a thermal area that was activated in the 1950s when the geothermal power station in Wairakei was constructed. Somehow it changed the underground structure and this area became active. While it steams and there are some pots of bubbling mud, it isn’t as fascinating as the thermal area at Wai-O-Tapu was and once the rain starts in earnest, the 45 minute walk isn’t quite as much fun. My all weather coat is drenched by the time we get to the car and both of us have wet jeans from the knees down.

Not finding a stop for lunch, we break out a bag of potato chips and a Coke I have in the insulated bag. By the time we are through the bag of chips, we see a sign for a small café. What catches our eye is “Cream Tea.” But when we pull in and go inside, the homemade tomato soup sounds like a better choice. It turns out to be great tomato soup. Definitely not Campbell’s. While we finish our soup, the sun pokes out for a few minutes and we hope for a better afternoon drive.

Alas we arrive in Napier in the rain and slosh about a bit at first but eventually, the sun does come out and the rain dwindles. We find a café and enjoy some coffee and free internet! One of the maps we’ve picked up from the information center shows an overlook a short drive up a hill at one end of town. We still need to kill some time before we check in to our B and B.

The view from the lookout is spectacular with the sun shining and warming us. We look down on the port area of Napier and discover the place where all the logging trucks have been going. The docks are full of pine logs and as we watch, one truck pulls up to a huge picker that takes his load and puts it on a pile of logs.

We had no idea that New Zealand exported so much wood. Their forested areas are harvested and then replanted and during the week we have been driving part of the North Island, we have seen mature forests, harvested forests, and newly planted forests. And lots and lots of logging trucks around every twist and turn in the road. Quite a challenge to a driver used to driving on the right instead of the left.

After checking into the Mon Logis B and B, we set out to find the Turkish restaurant that our host has recommended. We find it and order two different lamb dishes. Both are served over rice but one is spicy. Both have thin sliced lamb like what you would find in gyros. Not what we expected but it is good.

The town of Napier is pretty quiet as we walk back to our B and B. We’ve found that most of the towns so far have closed up by five or six in the afternoon. Several food stores, the larger ones, stay open a while longer and some of the restaurants but they close on odd days of the week sometimes. Our feet drag a bit as we near the Mon Logis. I’m hoping to have enough energy left to make it up the narrow stairs to our room.

New Zealand Diary - The Kiwi House

Thursday, October 10, 2013

There are some lines you draw when you are out touring. Some involve physical challenge. Some involve personal interests. And then there’s just a line to draw on cost. We have a little time before lunch to explore the Governor’s Gardens and the Rotorua Museum. The Museum is housed in the old original bath house and Bob has an urge to go see the basement, the place where the original pools were. When we go inside, the lady at the ticket desk shows us all the floors of the museum. It is not evident that we can even get to the basement and we would have to pay $12 NZD and spend time going through a museum rather than enjoying the sunshine. While $12/each may not seem a lot, I have no interest and Bob decides that it’s too much to pay for a look at the basement. We walk through the gardens instead.

When hunger persists, we pull into a Burger King just a short distance from the park we want to explore this afternoon. A little taste of home at a good price.

The Rainbow Springs Park is a bird and reptile zoo with some fish, mostly trout, as well. It is beautifully laid out and a pleasure to walk through but we are here for one specific creature, the kiwi. It is the national bird of New Zealand and is endangered. Added to that, it is also nocturnal so there is little chance of our seeing one on our own. We have opted for the behind the scenes tour and the return to see the kiwi at night. While it is quite pricey we chose to buy the tickets as this may be our only chance to see live kiwi. Our tour begins at one so we spend a few minutes looking around the park.

The Kiwi House is one of several throughout New Zealand that has been established to try and save the kiwi from extinction. Our guide tells us that there are only about 70,000 kiwis left in NZ and that includes all five or six different species. Several small mammals were brought to NZ to keep down the rat and mouse population but stoats and ferrets have proliferated to the point that they are endangering some of the natural inhabitants of NZ including the kiwi. Weasels also prey on the kiwi and dogs and cats can be a threat as well. Only 5% of the kiwis born in the wild will survive.

One of the facts about the kiwi I find fascinating is that they resemble mammals more than birds. The feathers are more like fur, its bones are not hollow and it has whiskers like a cat. It has small wings but cannot fly and it produces one of the largest eggs of any bird especially in relation to its body size. The egg grows to be almost 2/3 the size of the kiwi mother. She lays the egg—only one a season and only about 3 a year, and daddy kiwi sits on the egg. Mom’s apparently had enough after putting the egg in the nest. The egg is soft when first laid and hardens outside the bird but still, I’m surprised they want anything to do with having more. (Check out the x-ray picture to see the size of the egg.)

The Kiwi House foundation sends their workers out to collect eggs and bring them back to the facility to hatch. Since September of this year, they have hatched 13 eggs. They keep the kiwi here until they are six months old and then release them, tagging a leg of the males so that they can track them to another egg. After all, the male will be sitting on the eggs. They have determined that the birds they release at six months of age have a 70% survival rate. They are a little big for the smaller mammals to bother with and since the eggs and very young kiwi are the most vulnerable, the system is helping the kiwi to repopulate albeit slowly.

We look at eggs in the incubators, see how candling is done to determine when a kiwi might hatch, and then watch as dinner is prepared for some of the newer hatchlings. Some liver is cut up into small pieces to take the place of the worms in a kiwi’s diet. Then the small kiwi is hand fed to be sure it’s getting nourishment. Eventually the kiwi will learn on its own to forage for its food sources. We watch as one attendant puts the pieces of liver into the bill of the small kiwi she is feeding and he swallows it down.

Around a corner from the lab we have seen is a public viewing area with a kiwi behind glass. They have altered the lighting so this poor bird has his nights and days mixed up. But it enables the visitors to see a kiwi moving about. Much better than the stuffed one we saw on our last visit to New Zealand. We watch in fascination as the ball of furry feathers meanders about under a reddish light. (Please note: not picture taking is allowed so those posted are of the stuffed variety on display.)

In the evening, after sunset, we return to the park and are allowed into the area where there are four separate exhibits each with a kiwi. Low lights give just enough illumination that you can see some of the kiwi moving about. There are lots of children who are trying so hard to be quiet. Noise causes the kiwis to hide. I’m glad that we are among the first to enter for I fear that those behind us are going to have trouble seeing the kiwis. They have sensed the presence of the strangers and have scattered to the back of the enclosures. Still, it is fascinating and fulfills the desire to see real live kiwi. Like I said before, you make choices based on interests and desires when you travel. You budget for the good stuff.

New Zealand Diary - Rotorua, Waiotapu Thermal Springs

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Another morning. Another brisk walk planned. This time it will be at Wai-O-Tapu a thermal area that is part of a Scenic Reserve. This area is called the Taupo Volcanic Zone and this is the largest area of surface thermal activity around. The morning is chilly but the sun is shining again. Yesterday afternoon’s rain seems to have passed and we are promised a good day by the morning show’s weatherman. As we drive to Wai-O-Tapu we pass through areas that are foggy due to the thermal activity. It is a bit like driving through the Smokey Mountains only these clouds are full of sulfur smell and come from the ground up.

It is almost nine when we arrive and we have an hour to walk around the park and explore before we need to drive a few minutes down the road to the Lady Knox Geyser. The points of interest on our map are explained and creatively described with their names. Devil’s Hole. Artists Pallette. The list goes on. Rock formations are unique and the colors that are forced up by the thermal pressure running through the minerals beneath give them varying colors. Yellow is prominent in many spots because of the high sulfur content.

There are three tracks to follow, all nicely marked and in good condition. We don’t linger in the lookout spots and are able to cover all three trails in the allotted hour. We don’t want to miss the geyser and it is scheduled to go off at 10:15. We follow a line of cars and find a parking lot filling up fast with people ready to view this natural phenomenon.

Several hundred people sit on bleacher seats that are arranged like an amphitheater around a cone shaped rock structure that sits on a flat bed of shiny white stone. The information we have says that the geyser is seeded so that observers can be sure to see it go off at a certain time. Otherwise it could take a wait of 2 to 72 hours before it goes off again.

At the appointed time, a park ranger with a microphone stands next to the cone shape and explains a little history. The area was once a place where convicts were sent to plant trees. Several of them found a thermal pool and decided to do their laundry. They wet their grimy clothes and then worked some soap into them to get them clean. They put them back into the pool to rinse them out and within a few minutes, they got a big surprise. The pool erupted with a geyser and sent their clothes flying into the air.

The cone, he says, was formed when people put rocks around the geyser area to indicate where it was. Eventually the rocks were sealed by the minerals deposited over the years as the geyser erupted. Now it is surrounded by an amphitheater full of people expectantly waiting on a good show.

The ranger explains that the mixture he puts into the geyser is not soap but an ecologically safe compound that will accomplish the same thing—break the surface tension of the water below allowing the hot water to build into a force that will send it shooting into the air. He steps up to the cone and empties his sack into the opening. A few minutes later we begin to see bubbles and then a few spurts and suddenly the geyser gushes up into the air amazing all of the observers. The eruption lasts quite a while before it peters out—maybe 15 minutes. By then half of the observers have already bailed and are trying to make it through the congested parking lot.

Most cars turn left at the road to go to explore the thermal pools but we’ve already made our trek so we head for the mud pools. They sound like a lot of fun. They are. There is something fascinating about hot mud glurping periodically. We stand for a few minutes and watch and listen. Then it’s time to move on. There is lots to do this afternoon. We have kiwi to see—the feathered kind.

New Zealand Diary - Rotorua

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

There’s nothing like a climb to the top of a mountain right after breakfast. Especially on a chilly, crisp and very windy morning. Our host at our motel had suggested we not leave the area until we had made it to the top of Mount Paku, a pointy little mountain that overlooks the Tairua area. Since we find it has stopped raining and the sun has broken out, we decide we have enough time to take it in before starting on our day’s drive.

We wind our way up as far as we can in the car and find a parking area next to a marked trail that leads to the top. Donning our extra jackets, we grab cameras and head up the trail. Shortly we arrive at a spot that looks down on the Tairua harbor area. A pretty view but not the top. Rarely ones to dodge a challenge, we start up the trail that leads to the summit. Huffing and puffing, I can only grasp the comfort of knowing that once we’ve arrived our return is all downhill.

Lots of steps and some nasty boulders that were supposed to be like steps and we’ve reached the top just as a gust of wind threatens to knock us over. The view isn’t much better but we have the knowledge that we made it to the top. Challenge accepted and accomplished! As we turn to start down, another couple meets us with a tabby cat in their shadow. This is the cat our host said usually accompanies visitors to the top as the local tour guide. Apparently we were too early for the cat to be up when we started out.

Another dispute with Lady Garmon takes us off in the wrong direction but this time it proves she is right. It adds about a half hour on to our drive for the day by the time we backtrack and go the right direction. Part of the problem comes when we realize Lady Garmon does not tell us to make u-turns. Instead, she has us follow a loop back that often takes us completely out of the direct route. It’s probably safer that way for her. She can’t see the spots where we could pull off and turn around.

Our goal is to make a stop at an information place in the town of Taurangua. We end up needing a rest stop a bit before then. Thankfully we have found lots of public restrooms because McDonalds are few and far between. There is a restroom sign right next to an information place in a town called Katikati. Refreshed and loaded with a few more maps and pamphlets, I decide I really need a little sweet to tide me over to lunch. We walk down the street a bit and find a small bakery that has all sorts of temptations. I choose one that looks like a mini strudel and we walk back to the car munching on our treasure.

This little town looks interesting but we have miles, er kilometers to go before. . .well, you’ve heard that before. Taurangua, our original first stop is about a half hour down the road and we find the information center but it has much the same as we’d found in Katikati. As we take a walk down by the harbor area, I wonder where the cruise ships come in. This is one of the ports I remember from the cruise we took in this area. I realize we are too far inland when I see a bridge that is a permanent structure that stretches across the inlet. The cruise ships must put in closer to the open end by the sea.

A Turkish restaurant offers an interesting menu and we decide to try it out. We split an order of salad on a flat bread with chunks of lamb on top and a vinaigrette dressing drizzled over it. Turkish bread with EVO is a delicious side dish. The lamb is tender and tasty and makes us anxious to get to the South Island where we think we will find more lamb on the menus since there is more lamb raised there.

On to Rotorua. We skip the planned stop at the information center and head straight for our motel since we have more maps than we need and they tend to make Lady Garmon uncomfortable. Our host shows us our room which is very nice with a small kitchenette and nice bathroom. The smell however is a turn off. I don’t say anything at first and wait for Bob to come in with the first suitcase. Meanwhile, I run water in all the sinks and the shower. We had a place in the past that had a sewer smell that came up through the shower and I think that maybe the traps just need some fresh water in them.

About the time Bob comes in, I realize that what I am smelling is not sewers. It is sulfur. After all we are in one of the world’s best spots for thermal activity. When I walk outside the smell is even stronger.  Am I up for two nights of this?

We need to do laundry and I found a place online before we left that was around the corner from our motel. The motels so far have offered guest laundries but want $5/load to wash and $5 to dry (that’s $4/each in USD). Unfortunately by the time we are done at the self-serve laundry it totals $12 NZ ($9.60 USD). Ah, but now we are assured of clean underwear for another week.

After we are settled and finished with laundry, we explore a bit and we find pool after pool of thermal activity. Some of them are encircled with decorative stone but there are others that are just out in the open alongside the road. There are lots of places where you can see steam rising from little holes in the ground. The air is ripe. Bob keeps telling me that I’ll get used to it. We shall see.

Dinner is in a historic pub called the Pig And Whistle. The building is unique. The pub food fantastic. We leave satisfied and smiling. A good meal makes most anything seem better.

Wordless Wednesday