2006/05 NZ trip - Rotorua |
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We arrived back in Whakatane about same time as the rain, so we thought we might as well move on to our next destination, Rotorua, another part of New Zealand’s Taupo Volcanic Zone, which stretches diagonally across the north island. On a dark and very wet evening, we climbed into the mountains surrounding Rotorua. We saw our first road signs warning drivers of frost on some of the tight corners. Imported North American trees seem to do well in the Rotorua area and the autumn colours of the maples, oaks, and ashes reminded us that New Zealand’s May is like our November.
We drove around the big lakes of Rotoiti and Rotorua to the Whakarewarewa thermal area, and found the Rotorua Thermal Holiday Camp. It was dark and still raining hard, so this was a good evening to get the laundry done.
Thursday May 25th
The rain continued all night and into the next day. I found the camp’s Internet connection and caught up on finances and e-mail. Then we had to decide where to spend the day. Rotorua is a thermal area similar to Yellowstone, except that it isn’t a national park. Geyser basins are owned by private companies and they’re all competing for the tourist dollar. “Come and see our geyser/mud pots/waterfall/Maori village…” In the end we went to the campground office and said we want geysers, Maori, walkabout, and cheap, and the lady sent us to Te Puia, which turned out to be a great choice. It’s part of the Whakarewarewa thermal valley, so it has all the volcanic attractions, and it has a Maori concert and guided tour, and lots of trails through the bush to the attractions.
On the way in we met a local dairy farmer, who was complaining that with all the rain he had to keep moving his cows about or they’d turn a field into a mud hole. He and Sandie spent a while discussing dairy farming economics, in the rain, of course.
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Te Puia (2.25) |
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Whakarewarewa is short for Te Whakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawahiao, the Maori village that was here originally. I believe it means “The gathering place for the war parties of Wahiao”. Some of the village has been recreated, rough and ready personal houses and spectacularly carved meeting houses, canoes, and totems.
The concert was held in a large meeting house. I have no idea how closely the concert followed traditional Maori music, but it was entertaining anyway, and the “warriors” certainly hammed up the Maori grimacing: bug eyed with tongue hanging out. (It’s supposed to frighten your enemy
away so you don’t have to actually fight him.) The women were dancing with poi, rather like tennis balls on strings.
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Te Puia concert (36.28) |
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We learned a few Maori words, including “kia ora” which means “good health”. I always thought it meant a little box of orange juice that you’d drink at the pictures, during the Intermission, while listening to Mantovani. I didn’t even know the orange juice came from New Zealand.
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Te Puia skirt demo (7.32) |
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The guided tour was conducted by a young Maori lady with a gift for “telling the story” and keeping the audience’s interest. She said her name was Rhyl, part of her Welsh ancestry, but her Maori name was a yard long. She showed us how the Maoris made their skirts from flax, or at least one piece of the skirt, with 239 to go.
We got to see a kiwi, actually a couple of them, and we could see why very few New Zealanders have ever seen one. The kiwis spend their lives rummaging through leaf litter in the middle of the night, so most of the time all you see is a mound of leaves moving about, rather like a nocturnal echidna. Photography was forbidden and just about impossible through the glass in the darkness anyway.
The thermal area included geysers, mud pots, boiling 
ponds, hot waterfalls, difficult to see at times with the steam and fumes and steady drizzle. The tour ended at the carving school where they are now teaching new generations of Maori carvers.
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Te Puia geysers (5.00) |
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For lunch we treated ourselves to a couple of hangis. This hangi includes chicken, potatoes, yams, pumpkin, and swede, and is traditionally cooked underground, with hot rocks, wet leaves, and a layer of earth. Our underground cooking might have been the microwave in the basement. It tasted OK, but not something I’d want to eat every day. The Maori “warriors” don’t seem to be wasting away on it. Although a “h
angi” is a meal, a “hongi” is a nose-rubbing, so be careful with your pronunciation!
We spent the rest of the day walking around their gardens: beautiful 
plants, streams, mud pots, and carved figures in the woods, until the combination of steam, rain, and darkness forced us to leave, or at least retreat to the gift shop. Back at the campground, we headed for its thermal pools, not very pretty, just concrete and tile, but the warm water was welcome after a day of tramping around in the rain.