Rotorua recap

This weekend, I hopped on the bus for a ride to Rotorua, about 4 hours south of Auckland, inland. Rotorua is known for its thermal springs, spas, bubbling mud and colorful sulfurous rock formations.

I arrived at about noon on Saturday and checked into my clean, modern hostel, Treks, then set out on foot to wander the town. I headed over to the city park (Kuirau) to see what the fuss was all about. It was a misty, Portland-type day. I was outfitted in my grey raincoat and grey travel pants to match the sky. Perfect for exploration of the mystical bubbling mud and ponds which would momentarily disappear in a cloud of steam and sulfur. I was enchanted.

After my hours of walking, I stopped into the Polynesian Spa for a soak in the mineral pools. (Rated one of the top spas in the world by Conde Nast.) It was not particularly fancy, but thoroughly relaxing and a perfect activity for the cool, drippy weather. I suited up and slid into a pool overlooking lake Rotorua. After several hours immersed in the heated waters, I re-dressed and headed off for the next adventure: redeeming free drink coupons that I'd received from the hostel.

On the way to the coffee shop, I sighted a sign of my dreams, "Manager's special: Bathrobes $20," attached to a pink-robed mannequin. I went inside and discovered aqua blue was the other choice. I've been watching for a robe for a while, but prices have been upwards of $95, which I consider high for temporary attire. When winter arrives, I'm sure this will be a necessary article of clothing at home. (They don't believe in insulation or central heating here, though it's about the same climate at Portland, so houses tend to run on the very cold side. I think it's a bit of denial on their part.)

After updating my journal in the coffee shop, Capers, I headed off to The Pig & Whistle to use up my second "free drink" coupon. There was a band scheduled, but I stupidly got there an hour early. I presented my coupon and was happily handed a ridiculously full glass of tasty red wine by the bartender. (NZ is actually known for its whites, and I've tried them, but nothing beats a red to me.)

I stood around with my wine and water, searching for someone to talk to. Everyone was occupied with their own clan or the rugby game on the TV set. I wanted to leave actually, but I was thinking, "I can't chug the wine, or I'll fall over on the floor." "Should I waste it?" "I can just stick it out- wait and see what the band plays." "It's my dad's birthday- he would want me to stay and dance." Finally, the band started warming up and I figured I could last a few more minutes of torture.

The first song was rendition of Hootie and the Blowfish or something equally painful. I was not hopeful. But then it was followed by the Rolling Stones, "Start me up." I felt the beat.

A single male got on the dance floor, and at first glance, looked like he was quite the dancer. After further inspection, it was apparent that he thought he was John Travolta and had memorized some dance moves, which he repeated over and over without regard to the beat. But he did eventually encourage people to get on the dance floor, including myself. Funny difference here is that the guys actually dance with each other and there were more men than women dancing.

I met two new girls after announcing, "I don't know anyone here!" Then met a pile of kiwi males and hung out with a group of about 8 of them (all very sweet) for most of the evening. They started out calling me, "Miss Canada," which I nicely corrected and ended up calling me, "Dakota." (Much better!)

I arrived home at about 1:45AM and after a shower, crept stealthily into my hostel bed, only to be awoken at 7:15AM by a Chinese girl with plastic-bag-crumpling-syndrome. It is a dreaded disease of hostellers. I figured, "Bugger it, may as well get up."

After my first bad coffee in NZ (they used too much water), I was off to Wai-O-Tapu Thermal Wonderland. It was gorgeous, though being limited by the bus time schedule was less than ideal. I felt quite rushed- we had to see the whole place in about an hour and a half. On my own, I would have taken twice that time. It was visually fantastic- a color lover's dreamworld. Who would even imagine a fluorescent green lake? I never knew such wonders existed.

I wrapped up the weekend with another dreamy four hours on the bus, reflecting peacefully on the weekend, watching the countryside go by-- mountains, small farmhouses, rivers, simple beauty. I'd met people from around the world (from an Aussie 60YO to a Swedish 19YO), discussed ideas and shared moments.