Lime Green Hell
Since leaving Auckland, Mari and I have found that the least expensive means
of transportation has been the Kiwi Experience Bus. This giant lime bus carts everyone down the roads of New Zealand, letting you on and off where you want.
Sounds Great Right, well don’t be fooled. Basically, the Kiwi Experience has been a baby sitting service for people who are not adventure minded and independent, but like to think they are. The bus travels from town to town offering everyone a chance to Tandem Skydive and Bungy jump each day (using daddy’s credit card of course), but gets annoyed at individuals who travel to hike and camp (i.e. Mari and I). Needless to say, we have been forgotten twice, and have gotten the operations manager very sick of hearing from us.
That’s the bad.
We left Auckland and headed east to Whitianga, and then south to Rotorura.
The first stop allowed us to camp, and walk along a huge beach collecting
thousands of shells by moonlight. The second stop was a thermal town. We
were dropped off at a campsite, which was right beside a thermal park.
Breathing in fumes of sulpher, we decided to investigate.
The park was huge by municupal standards, and as we walked the paths, we were treated to the sights of water bubbling up over the path, small holes spouting very boiling water, and a New Zealand Classic – boiling mud. Having seen thermal areas in other spots (Chile, Madagascar)I had personally thought I had seen it all. I realized how immature that thought was as I clicked off frame after frame of dark brown gooo shoot into the air, in giant gasping bubbles.
That evening, we attented a traditional Maori Hangi. The Maori are the
indigenous people, and we have been very impressed at the way that Maori
culture has been accepted in daily Kiwi affairs. Our evening started as a very large man, approached us screaming and waving a long staff. He placed a twig on the ground and backed off. Since we picked it up, he didn’t beat us senseless, but instead invited us into the Maori village, where we were treated to song, and food like you wouldn’t believe. A Hangi is a earthen pit, that you place lamb and various gourds into. This slow cooks for a day, and the result is amazing.
Since the bus left us unfortunately, we stayed a second day in Rotorua.
Eventually we got south to a town called National Park, which is just
outside the famed “Great Walk” of the Tongarriro Mountain. Mari and I left
very early the next morning to climb it.
At 7am it was raining, but as we got to the park, the rain had slowed
down. We hiked for an hour over moderate paced terrain, and reached the
base of a mountain pass as the sky erupted. For the next four hours, Mari
and I stayed very close together as we were engulfed in fog. Rain falling
in sheets that would hit us sideways in the wind drenched us and our gear as
we worked over the mountain. On top, we walked thourgh puddles and rain
that worked into our boots. We crossed a ridge no wider than our back
packs, and as I looked down, I could see an almost vertical ridge dissapear
below me. I shivered and carried on.
When we finally reached our campsite, we found a very warm cabin beside it,
and decided that regardless of the price, that was where we would sleep.
When we got in, I hung the clothes up, as my wife in nearly hypothermic
conditions climbed into a sleeping bag. I crawled behind her, and felt her
shivers subside after 30 minutes. We spent the rest of the day inside.
In the morning, it was still pouring and we made our way to the next hut. Finding no one there we used the entire day to dry gear, and let our bodies rest. We hiked for two further days, and it rained on both of those days as well. On the last day, we finally saw one of the mountain peaks we had been 200 meters from. On the way out of the park, Mari bought a post-card, and asked the very surprised park offical where we had just hiked.
The next day, the Kiwi Experience Bus didn’t pick us up, and when we called, the operations manager made the bus backtrack for us. And on a brighter
note, its looking sunny out.