Rizz goes round the world

Running from the cold up in New England... (Auckland, Northland, Rotorua, NZ)

...straight into the cold down in New Zealand.

After making fun of everyone back home, as they were heading into autumn while I was facing a year of endless summer, reality smacked me in the face and laughed as soon as I stepped off the plane in Auckland. It's cold here! Not freezing, but definitely colder than I had anticipated or planned for, a fact which has led to some emergency shopping for extra layers. Well, c'est la vie.

So, the first part of my journey in New Zealand, before I met up with Lance, which will be detailed in another post to follow, brought me through Auckland, up to Paihia, and back down to Rotorua through Auckland.

Auckland:

My apologies to Karina, who grew up there, but quite honestly, Auckland just doesn't impress me much. It's just such an anonymous city, nestled in a country of such heart-rending beauty--there's so much more to see than this urban anonymity! Still, I spent a nice couple of days exploring. After spending a week with my Fiji friends, I looked forward to trekking through urban streets by myself. Being alone in cities just gives me such a rush sometimes. So I dropped off my bags, bundled up, and headed into the streets of Auckland. There's really just one major drag, Queen Street, which runs perpendicularly into the harbor. After a few hours, as it grew dark I realized I was inadequately dressed. Back to the hostel I went, and I befriended Axel, a German boy sleeping in the bunk across from me. I had had enough alone time, so I tagged along with Axel to the Globe Bar... I had been to the Globe Bar before, 2 years earlier, when I was chaperoning the kids, and it lives in infamy in my mind. It was funny to be back there, in such a different situation.

Anyway, at the Globe Bar, I ran into Sandra, a girl from England, who I had actually met in Fiji and who had been on the flight over to Auckland with me. She was relieved to see me, as she'd been hanging out alone for the past hour while her friend Cat slept upstairs. I met a couple of Irish guys and we all played in a pool tournament being run by a couple of Kiwi hustlers. I of course lost the first game.

So, Sandra and I were hanging out, chatting, fine and dandy, when all of a sudden we were accosted by a couple of rugby players, Blair and Lance, who proceeded to literally toss us around in the air on the dance floor the rest of the night. There's something about feeling light as a feather--it was great fun. Unfortunately, the people of New Zealand are obsessed with awful cheesy American music from the 80s and 90s (I haven't heard Ice Ice Baby and U Can't Touch This so many times since a junior high school dance). While it was fun being thrown around a la Dirty Dancing as "I had the time of my life..." was crooning from the speakers, it got trite fairly quickly, and Sandra and I left Blair and Lance to get even more drunk than they already were.

The next day I met up with Sandra and Cat and we set off to explore the city. We navigated our way via bus to the adorable neighborhood of Ponsonby, where I think I ate at an Italian restaurant 2 years ago. We window-shopped for a bit, then headed back down into the city via Western Park, passing by children decked out in their school uniforms during, I assume, their gym class. We then hopped on another bus out to Mt. Eden, which we climbed up. Mt. Eden is an old volcano and is the highest point in Auckland. It's sounds much more exciting than it was. The "hike" took about 15 minutes and the crater was full of grass--it just looked like a dip in the ground--but, still, we had a fun time going up and spent some time toying around with the timers on our cameras and laughing.

After parting ways for a couple of hours, I headed back to Sandra and Cat's hostel for my first experience in cooking dinner in a hostel kitchen. Unfortunately, someone had stolen Sandra's towel and PJs from her bed, so after dinner she was in need of a drink. Auckland may be New Zealand's largest city, but let me tell you, it sure is tough to find a place to grab a beer! After a frustrating half hour, we finally found a place that was out of our backpacker budget, but this was an emergency situation. We drank our beers and sat mesmerized by lawn bowling, which was playing on the TV above us. Yes, lawn bowling. It's a big deal here. And it was a long day, ok!?

Northland:

Here is where my NZ adventure really began. If you look at a map, Northland is the region of the north island that sticks out of the top, leaning towards the west. It's a beautiful, isolated place. I hopped on a bus by myself to Paihia. Fortunately, Cat and Sandra were heading up to Paihia as well, through a tour organized by Kiwi Experience, and it was nice to reunite with them at the hostel. First, though, I spent a few hours by myself roaming for a bit, as my bus got up there much more quickly.

Karma was smiling down upon me broadly that day. After facing my first (well, second, counting the luggage experience) mini-crisis while on the road, I fixed my iPod. I walked happily down to the wharf to go check out my options for tours up to Ninety Mile Beach. I decided to book through a company called Awesome Adventures and walked into their office. Graham, a Kiwi who had lived for a few years out in western Mass., was at the desk. We started talking about New England and my trip and Bali, where he had spent a substantial time, and next thing I know, I have a free ferry ride to and from Russell, across the bay, free internet, free drink vouchers, and a discounted bottle of water. Karma, man. Of course, karma can be kinder when you're a girl and the person with whom you are dealing is a boy. Karma + rules of attraction = good luck for Allison.

So, I headed across the Bay of Islands to Russell. Russell is a very quaint little town, reminiscent of a town you'd find on the Cape. Unfortunately, like the Cape in the winter, Russell was pretty deserted and everything was closed, as it was still technically the off-season. I started getting a little depressed, as cold isolation can do to me sometimes, and then it started to drizzle. Fortunately, the ferry was coming. As I was down the pier to the ferry, a little sad, a little lonely, I glanced back over my shoulder, and there was a beautiful, bright, full rainbow.

Back at the hostel I saw a couple of familiar bags in my room. Cat and Sandra! Hurrah! We hung out that night at the bar attached to our hostel, which is apparently the it place to hang out in this small town. We chatted with the driver of their bus, a Maori guy who was the cousin of the bartender and who kept force-feeding us shots. We danced like madwomen, laughing at the snotty looks from the girls who were so dolled up they looked like trannies. Some people just don't know how to enjoy themselves travelling. The busdriver and his bartender cousin did the Haka, a Maori dance for preparation for warfare, and we headed off to bed.

Fortunately, after all those silly shots, which were more sugar than alcohol I suspect, my 6 AM wake-up wasn't that bad. Cat and Sandra were heading out to row a traditional Maori canoe with their bus driver, while I was off to Ninety Mile Beach and Cape Reinga.

Ninety Mile Beach is really only 56 miles, but it is still huge and empty and amazing. We rode in the bus right down the beach, with the water at times splashing the side. To our left was the Tasman Sea, to our right were sand dunes, among which wild horses ran and would periodically peer their heads over to stare at the buses and cars zooming by. It was beautiful. We'd stop every once in a while to dip our toes in the Tasman, pick up shells, and trek over the dunes.

Our ride seemed to go on forever, but finally we reached the end. How were we going to exit the beach? I didn't see a road. Easy. We drove down a riverbed. There was water running down this riverbed, mind you. It was the most unique "road" I've ever rode down.

We drove past enormous dunes, and stopped at one to slide down the steep sides on boogie boards. The climb up was exhausting, but the exhilerating ride down was worth it, as you laughed and swallowed sand the whole way. I had sand in my ears for days.

After eating my lunch in the sand at one of the most beautiful bays I've ever seen, we headed onward to Cape Reinga, the northern-most point of New Zealand and a place of great beauty and mythical spirituality. Ancient Maori legend says that when any Maori person dies, regardless of where he or she is residing, its spirit comes up 90 Mile Beach to Cape Reinga, then dives into the ocean to return to its mythic homeland, Hawaiki. As you climb to the highest point on the Cape, to your left you see Cape Maria van Dieman, and to your right you look down and see the lighthouse capping the Cape. That lighthouse and the public toilets are the only buildings that will ever be built on this sacred land. Straight out in front of you, the ocean swirls as the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean meet in a little dance. Far below you, the blue waters crashes against rocks, or foam more gently upon sandy shores. It is truly a magical place.

After we went for a quick stop in an ancient Kauri forest, where I hugged a Kauri tree (Kauris are enormous trees that at one time covered New Zealand's north island. As the trees grow to the sky, they lose their lower branches. The wood is very beautiful and the lumber is nearly flawless, so when the Brits arrived, they logged almost all of the trees. Most old houses in the UK will have New Zealand Kauri lumber in them. Today less than a quarter of the trees remain and they are protected.) Finally it was over to Uncle Stew's roadside fruit stand, where I bought some mandarins and kiwi.

The next day was another early wake-up. I walked back down to the wharf, and shivered a bit in the morning chill as I waited to board a boat. This boat didn't have a particular destination--we were off to find some dolphins! Karma again smiled upon me that day. Sometimes it can take 3 hours to find a pod of dolphins. Some trips don't spot any. It took us 20 minutes to find our first pod, and we also spotted 2 other pods later in the day. When we first came upon the dolphins, we laid on the front of the boat with our faces close to the water. We could have touched the dolphins as they played and danced and twirled under the boat, but they are very tactically sensitive and we were advised not to touch them.

Next it was on with the snorkel and the (short!!) wetsuits and into the water. Mind you, this is just the very beginning of spring in NZ. Think of the Atlantic in early March. This was gonna be a cold dip in the ocean! Also, please picture about 20 humans in snorkels and flippers, moving awkwardly in the boat and, without grace, plopping into the water 2 by 2. The silly humans then all swam frantically in the same direction, and a cacaphony of sound echoed from their snorkels as they sang, hummed, and laughed. Floppy, the woman on the boat who was the dolphin expert, told us the noise would attract the dolphins, but I think she also partially wanted to laugh at us.

It was worth it. As I swam through the water, humming, with my face below the surface, all of a sudden fron the murky dark depths arose enormous grey creatures. Some of you are aware of my fear of large things in the water (I hide my face whenever whales underwater are shown on TV), and I of course juped nearly clear out of the water and I may have shrieked. I forced my head back into the water though, and curled myself into a tiny ball as I watched these huge 200kg creatures swim by underneath me. They were beautiful, graceful and humbling. It was quite the experience.

After returning to Paihia, I hopped on a bus up to Haruru Falls, and had a lovely 2 hour walk through the woods back to the hostel with an American girl named Karen who was working in Auckland and would be in New Zealand for the next year. We had an interesting conversation about America, which maybe I'll touch upon in a later post. I've already spent too much time behind a computer today. But first...

Rotorua:

After an un-eventful stay-over in Auckland, I headed out to Rotorua. I had been here and seen most of the city 2 years ago, but I wanted to do the one thing I didn't have opportunity for last time: visit the Polynesian Spa.

Rotorua is a very geothermically active part of the world. I walked through a park across from my hostel, and here, there and everywhere, steam rose up from the Earth and mud and water bubbled. It also stinks like sulfur, but it's worth it. At the park, I sat and soaked my feet in pools that draw water from the geothermal hotsprings. I felt the energy of the Earth's core warm my feet, and sat and marvelled at the wonder of it, of feeling the Earth's power in such a way.

That was nothing compared to the next day, when I headed to the Spa. I decided to splurge and bought myself a hydrotheraputic massage, the kind where there are jets of water spraying you as someone massages you. Before and after the massage I soaked in pools of naturally heated water on the shores of the lake surrounding Rotorua. It was absolutely brilliant. I've never been so relaxed in my life.

A few hours later, I hopped on a bus to Hamilton for my reunion with Lance, and part two of my Kiwi adventure began, but that will have to wait.

posted by La Rizz @ 4:37 PM