From North to South

These are our last few hours on the North Island until just before we leave New Zealand. We bid farewell to the land of Maori, Zorb, and smelly warmth, and hop on a plane to Christchurch.

A quick tour of Christchurch reveals that it was truly devastated by the earthquakes last year, and is still recovering. We pick up supplies and head southeast to the Banks peninsula, and into a massive rainstorm. Eric puts on his Ryan Gosling face and drives straight in, through windy, foggy roads that are thankfully nearly completely free of traffic.

The clouds and rain don’t let up until after we’ve checked in at Kereru, our B&B perched on a mountaintop overlooking Akaroa harbor, so we head down into Akaroa proper to get some dinner. Oysters and Monteith’s Black tide us over while we take in the tiny town. Babushka Gloriane sings along with “Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” to keep us warm on the chilly patio.

We find that bookings really *are* essential, especially in a town as small as Akaroa, and accept a 9:15 reservation at The Little Bistro. But it’s well worth it — amazing French-tinged Kiwi grub, and dessert served with a tiny shovel — enough for sweet dreams that night back on the mountain.

Chief Eric of Kea Waka

Early morning at Lake Okareka: cool, tranquil, quiet. We find a trail around the lake’s wetlands and eavesdrop on pakeku, tui, and black swans. Off in the distance, we hear a woman calling her cows home (no, really!). Feels like a Kiwi Sound of Music.

Breakfast with avocado and Vegemite on toast (the Marmite factory is still rebuilding after the Christchurch earthquake, so the locals have to make do with an Aussie import for the time being), and we head down to Wai-O-Tapu, “Geothermal Wonderland”.

By “wonder”, I think they mean “I wonder why it smells so naaaasty.” Glad we didn’t have eggs for breakfast, because these bubbling pits with names like “Devil’s Hole” and “Sulphur Cave” stink something awful. But they have pretty colors and steamy currents, so they make for good photo-ops.

Not content to see without touching, we head up the road to Kerosene Creek, a natural hot creek. The pictures don’t do it justice — think a nice, hot bath, in the middle of a stream bed. And not too smelly 🙂

Lunch in Rotorua and then we drive north to find the home of the original Zorb. What’s Zorb? Imagine being tossed inside a giant inflatable hamster ball with a bucket of warm water and tossed down a big hill. With sheep watching you. We ended up choosing OGO, a newer cousin of Zorb, with longer runs and cleaner rides. Turns out the guy who created Zorb sold it to some other folks and let them run it into the ground, while he went bigger and better with OGO. Wish we had video from inside the ball…this was SO MUCH FUN and hilarious. Eric’s abs hurt from laughing the whole way down.

At night, we board the bus to a Maori hangi, Kea Waka (‘waka’, in Maori, is used to describe any vehicle), where Gloriane volunteers Eric to be chief of our tribe. This means Eric gets to stand in front of a hundred other tourists while Maori warriors swing spears at his face. You know, “representing his tribe.”

Arriving at the Maori village Tamaki, we’re schooled on the ancient Maori ways, learn Te Wero (“The Challenge”) and poi dances, and grub on some earth-cooked Maori delicacies. On the way back to town, Chief Eric is called up to the front of the waka to entertain his tribe on the ride back to our home village. This task mainly entails coercing the tribe into singing songs from their home countries, i.e. The Beatles.

As the waka pulls into its home port, Chief Eric manages to come up with a parting joke to further delight his tribe. “What kind of boat does Fozzie the Bear use to travel across the Pacific Ocean? …A “waka waka”! Heeeeeey!” And with that, Chief Eric jumps out the open door before his tribe turns into an angry mob.

Trial By Cold Water

Eric almost sank the marriage today, in 10-degree Celsius pitch black water. But Gloriane is a serious trooper, and managed to find some fun in our 5-hour “Black Abyss” caving adventure. What was this like, after a tranquil day in the Shire? Think “from Bilbo to Gollum” and you get the idea.

Awakening to a birdie symphony, we grab some breakfast and head to the caving departure point with an ill-fated good attitude. First step: put on cold, wet wetsuit. Next: sopping booties. Third: clammy rental helmet. Then all aboard a van that deposits us at the top of a 100m (~30 stories!) hole in the ground.

The abseil down the hole is fun enough to forget about the frigid rental suits…for a bit. But it’s c-c-cold down there. We duck through a narrow passageway and hop on a zipline, which we ride down about 15 seconds in complete and total darkness. At the bottom, a quick warm-up with hot cocoa and granola bars, then we stick our butts into innertubes and jump 8 feet down into cave water.

Have you ever been in a cave? Maybe. Have you ever been underwater in a cave? I hope not. Brrr. We paddle down an underground river for a good 5-10 minutes and, at a point, turn off all our headlamps. Up above — constellation upon constellation of tiny blue stars. Glowworms. Thousands of them.

Beautiful! Even after we learn that the glowing stuff is actually their poo. The beauty lasts only so long, however, as our butt cheeks start to fuse together into one solid block of numbness, hanging into the water below. We float back along the glowworm corridor, dismount, and then slosh through more water.

We wade through treacherous passages, slide down a short waterfall, swim a little, and finally make it to a second pit stop in a cramped cavern. Hot Tang and chocolate, and then we have a choice: climb directly up two waterfalls or take the easy way out. Eric easily convinces Gloriane to take the drier route, while he plunges upward into a spray of frigid cave water.

We make it out alive and thaw quickly over some hot soup, then hightail it to the civilized comfort of Rotorua, geothermal paradise of the North Island. Dinner at a night market and refuge in an incredible lakeside B&B round out this day of masochistic adventure.

Baa Baa, Bilbo

We rise with the sun (well, sorta) and head across the street to L’Assiette, a French bakery run by real Frogs, who make us an almond croissant to order. Passing up Movember macarons, we then check out and hop in the Mazda to buzz down to Hobbiton.

A two-hour drive south, Hobbiton is nestled in the Irish-green hills of a many-acre sheep farm. Gloriane gets a little lamb-feeding action, and we hop into a bus that winds through the patties and around a hill to where Hobbiton is hidden from view.

And it’s REAL. So real, we can smell the second breakfasts. Serious attention to detail here, with carvings in the windows and doors, rakes and hoes and mugs and jugs on the front porches, and a rocking chair for each. Not to mention the beautiful gardens, tended daily by human gardeners, and even fake moss made from real yogurt…well, just look at the pictures to get a sense of it.

Our tour ends at the Green Dragon pub, which is still under construction but will be open soon and serving beer available *only* at the Green Dragon. With the Lord Of The Rings already completed and the Hobbit about to be released, the place was in tip-top shape.

After our Shire visit, we travel to Waitomo to settle in for the night, in preparation for tomorrow’s “black water” rafting experience. Dinner across the street from our B&B at a great spot called Huhu, and at dusk we head to Aranui Caves for a nighttime walk. Our B&B hosts recommend this place to see glowworms, and we do — on either side of a bridge, with stars in between. Eat your heart out, Walt Disney.

Haere mai ki Aotearoa!

(Welcome to New Zealand, in Maori.)

5:30am — our New Zealand journey begins bleary- but bright-eyed in Auckland airport.  After a brief but adventurous wrong-side-of-the-road drive through suburban Auckland (did I mention the manual transmission is on the LEFT side, and the windshield wipers are where the turn signal is supposed to be?), we end up at our palace downtown, a 3-minute walk from the waterfront.

Breakfast at the marina leads to a walk around downtown, gawking at sky-jumpers (with unsolicited advice from a local: “that’s dangerous, I don’t recommend it.  You’ll lose all the small change in your pockets.”), admiring street art, and crawling through vegetation in Albert Park.

After a quick break, we meet up with Eric’s friend from NYC, Zee. Ramen Tanpopo fills our bellies, but there’s still room for liquid chocolate in the Parnell neighborhood. Gloriane windowshopped and shot photos until the rain starts. After the skies clear, we wander through Newmarket and break for beers at Lucha Lounge. (N-Zed seems to have a serious affinity for all things Mexican. Though we’ll stick with Cali burritos, thankyouverymuch.)

Back downtown, we hit up Depot for some incredible oysters and tasty fish, and hit the sack early to prepare for our adventure to the Shire tomorrow.