From Auckland to Rotorua

Looking Out Onto the Pathways of an Old Coromandel Gold Mine

After getting my fill of the Far North, I turned my gaze southwards. This wasn't so much a decision on my part; the Pacific Ocean and Tasman Sea proved to be formidable obstacles, precluding overland travel in any other direction. So it was back to Auckland for a quick overnight stay, before departing on a two-day journey through the Coromandel Peninsula and onwards to Rotorua.

The coastline around the Coromandel is just as striking as the ocean scenery in the Northland Region. I'm not sure why I have no pictures. It's quite possible that I was more concerned about lying in the sun -- trying to warm up after a swim in the ocean off Cathedral Cove -- than I was in snapping off pictures along the beach.

Our group overnighted in the sleepy town of Whitianga, the main settlement for the Mercury Bay area.

(When you go wandering into pitch dark, abandoned mine tunnels and nobody thinks to bring along a flashlight, you end up having to use camera flashes to light the way. And then your memory card gets filled up with a lot of pictures of the back of Holly's head.)

On the way between Whitianga and Rotorua, we stopped over in Matamata, a town doing its best to cash in on the fact that the Hobbiton scenes from The Lord of the Rings trilogy were filmed on a private farm a short ways away.

It Had to Be Done

Rotorua is a major centre for tourism on the North Island. Lying close to mountain biking trails and white-water rapids, it was here that most of us received our first look at the Kiwi penchant for getting people to part with large sums of money to do crazy things -- which in itself is a crazy thing. Apparently, crazy is a positive-feedback loop.

The Rotorua Museum

Major geothermal activity in the area also makes Rotorua famous for its spas and hot springs. Our hostel had a naturally powered hot-tub next to the pool. Unfortunately, this same geothermal activity covers the entire city with the perpetual smell of rotten eggs.

Belching Out Sulfurous Gas

If adventure sports or spa days don't sound appealing to you, there's also a lot of Māori culture to experience. In fact, there's an large industry in Rotorua set up to allow you to do just that, through organised Māori cultural experiences. I went on the Tamaki Heritage Experience, recreating a visit to a pre-European-settlement Māori village.

We played the part of a visiting Māori tribe, undergoing a welcoming ceremony, a village tour and a tribal show, before our night culminated in a large hāngi meal.

Māori Carvings

I'm usually quite adverse to these type of re-enactment-style tourist traps. There's something about people running around in period costumes, trying to act how they think people acted hundreds of years ago that, by its very nature, screams inauthenticity to me. But I had fun on this one.

What got me to sign up in the first place were some glowing recommendations in the guide books, highlighting the humour displayed by all the actors and guides involved in the experience. Anticipation of this humour brought back good memories of a family visit to Hawaii back in 1990, when some of the presenters at a Polynesian village cultural experience had me laughing so hard I was crying. Of course, since I was only thirteen in Hawaii, it was possible that I was laughing at some really stupid stuff. I needn't have worried. I didn't cry this time out, but there were enough laughs to keep me amused throughout the entire evening.

Except that I was forbidden from laughing during the welcoming ceremony. Our guide had briefed us during the drive out to the village. Before being invited through the main gates, we would be greeted by a Māori warrior challenge -- an aggressive display of faces and grunts and shouts designed to ascertain whether we were friend or foe. Under no circumstances were we to laugh during this display, as this would be considered the height of insults.

Of course, this prior warning just made the entire thing hilarious.

No Laughing!

(It was tough, but it was easier to keep a straight face once I imagined that any breach in protocol would be dealt with by having that large stick stuck up where the sun don't shine.)

I'm convinced it's all just a gigantic practical joke on the part of the Experience organisers.

Related Entries:
1. The Bit at the Top of the North