So I will admit to being rather neglectful to my blog over the last few weeks but in my defense my Contiki journey was rather full on for the whole 15 days and I have spent the last few days relaxing in quiet serenity trying to recover from it all. I'm not even sure where to begin, when I left my last post I was on my way to the small town of Waitomo, a place that is home to the famous glow worm caves and black water rafting.
Now when I say small, I do mean that it is small, with a population of less than 50 permanent residents, when the Contiki bus (and sadly the Kiwi Experience bus ) roll into town the population experiences a palpable surge. There is little to nothing to do in this particular town outside of heading to the glow worm caves which were very cool or river rafting.
Black water rafting in Waitomo was an experience. Donning wet suits and helmets we entered the caves through what was apparently the original entrance found many years ago by a fellow’s dog, completely on accident. There we were surrounded by the eerie sound of water rushing and echoing off the cave walls. Now when they say ‘rafting’ you have to take that term rather loosely. We had our own individual inner tubes that we used to float down the waterways in the cave only to be interrupted in our float by the odd waterfall we had to jump off of into the next pool.
The caves were maybe 10ft wide at points and several stories high and were lit up with the luminescent glow of the worms and our head torches. All in all it was a lovely afternoon spent even though I could not feel my feet or hands after all was said and done.
The evening was spent having a lovely kiwi bbq and socializing with my new group of friends. We only lost one person that evening, apparently walking the 30ft from the pub to the hostel was too much to ask and he spent the better portion of an hour lost on the many streets (there’s only one) in Waitomo.
The next day we made our way to the bus bright and early to Rotorua. There is something to be said for the smell that is given off from a natural sulfuric hot springs. It’s probably the most unpleasant and displeasing aroma to have to get used to. Which you don’t get used to it, in case you were wondering.
We stopped for a short time at a place that did a presentation on a bunch of different kinds of sheep in NZ. Finally got to see a Merino in person. Can’t say I was overly impressed with watching them shear one of the little guys, buddy doing it was a little on the aggressive/showman side for me but I guess the sheep liked his new haircut once it was done.
The best part of this day had to have been when we got to the outskirts of Rotorua and stopped at the Zorb track. If there was only one thing that I wanted to for sure do while I was in NZ it was Zorbing. Consider all the mental things that kiwi’s have invented over the years (ex. Bungy, Canyon Swing), this has to be one of the silliest ones ever. You are driven to the top of a hill where the track is set and you find yourself faced with a giant blow up hamster ball filled with a few gallons of water. You hurl yourself through the opening of said ball and find yourself sitting in a bubble of silence save for the dripping of water. When the time comes the gate is opened and you are pushed down a track of zig zags collecting speed and sliding around like an idiot the whole way down. It’s AWESOME. Kind of like being at the waterslides but way cooler.
One last stop before getting to the hotel at a place where a few of us participated in downhill lugeing. I wanted to take small steps in adventure; Zorb was first, Luge second. We got two runs down the hill and although it wasn’t lightning speed it was pretty epic fun. I almost ran into my roommate Sam a few times but she didn’t know at the time so it was all good.
That evening we got to watch and take part in a traditional Maori presentation, listening to songs and watching dances. It was all very interesting to see. The dinner was nice but nothing spectacular although I did get to try the famed kaori (a glorified sweet potato). I chose to keep a rather easy night in opting out of the smell hotsprings and rather for a little one on one time with my computer and the wireless.
Something about NZ that I think everyone on the bus was a little displeased with was is the fact that there is almost not free internet anywhere. When I was in Europe almost every hostel had free wifi available to the people staying there and if there was a charge it was generally nominal. NZ however, is a pay as you go kind of country with charges ranging anywhere from 5$ for 60mins or 20mb (whichever you cap out at first) all the way up to 100$ per month for wireless access where available for that particular network. The only free wifi is usually doled out in 30min intervals from places like Starbucks or MacDonalds. I can’t say I am overly impressed with all of this but it has taught me to be very aware of my internet time and to use it when I can find it for free.
My other big issue while I have been here (now that I am on a bit of a complaining rant) is that my cell phone only seems to work with one particular company that does not service many places outside of the major cities. I wrote an e-mail to Telus asking them if there was a way to fix this particular problem as my phone should be connecting to the main provider out here and their response was ‘Sorry, give our technicians a call and we will figure this out.’ If I could call your technicians, Telus, do you think maybe there wouldn’t be an issue in the first place. Customer service fail.
Another early start the next morning (there is a trend here, wait for it) with bags to the bus sometime before 8am. Sitting down with breakfast on my plate the morning was rudely interrupted by the sound of alarms. Apparently the hotel was on fire. Where Contiki goes… Hauling our stuff outside with grumbling stomachs, we watched as fire trucks pulled up and the firemen (not ‘A’ grade sorry no pictures) poured out. It was only a small fire, possibly burnt toast in the kitchen, but a little morning excitement nonetheless.
Finally after a rushed breakfast we piled into the bus yet again headed for Taupo, yet another tiny community on our journey through the country. On the way though, we stopped at the Craters of the Moon Geothermal Park to check out the hot steaming vents and massive craters. It’s a rather desolate looking area with an ethereal quality. I’m not sure I woud go so far as to say it resembled the moon but I get where they are coming from. Steam is pushed up through cracks in the earth from what I can only assume are the bowels of volcanic hell. I know the tour manager Brendan explained it but with so much information and so many early mornings on this trip certain facts escape me at the moment.
From the craters we headed for Taupo and for what was an easy afternoon for me. Some people were dropped off at a glorified monkey bar/team building/scary the poop out of you course that involved many high wires and harnesses. Not the best situation for someone that is only slightly (MASSIVELY) afraid of heights. I bowed out of this one gracefully and picked observing the first group of bungy jumpers do their thing. Bungy was the one thing I was undecided on this whole trip. Being in the home of Bungy I felt a certain obligation to participate in this activity but my chicken shit insides were completely against the illogical idea of hurling myself off a perfectly good platform with only 6 elastic bands and a towel saving me from utter death. It didn’t help that someone had nearly died a few weeks ago from a bungy cord snapping somewhere in South Africa. So I decided to try to psyche myself out by watching other people perform and live through the feat. Courage builds through proof.
After the bungy we were dropped in town for a little shopping, coffee and planning as that evening was to be our dress up dinner boat cruise on Lake Taupo. Everyone defected from the bus raiding dollar store and the salvation army in search of the best costume. After putting together perfection we all eventually congregated at the coffee shops basking in the heat of the day and commiserating on our successes. Not to ruin the surprise but I went as a cheesy tourist complete with ridiculous kiwi themed shirt and boxers on the outside.
Something we learned the next day as we were leaving Taupo was that the lake we had been sleeping next to all night and boating lazily on in the evening is actually the largest and most dangerous in al NZ. The lake is actually a giant crater and underneath it lies a type of volcano that apparently gives absolutely no warning when it is to go off. A comforting thought. That being said it was a gorgeous evening of food and dancing aboard the boat in our own private party.
The next morning, again, early we set off for Wellington. It was a long drive and by the end of it all we were pretty tired. Wellington is the capital of NZ and a funky community holding not as many people as you would think for a capital. NZ in general is a tiny country having only around 4 million residents. If I remember my numbers correctly that is just slightly more people that Vancouver. There really is no real big city on the islands in the way that I am used to at home.
Wellington has a funky vibe to it in a way with certain streets that show off it’s political side with people in business attire and with briefcases and a whole other side where the hippies and emo’s hang out. It reminds me a bit of Vancouver with the harbor being a huge attraction, ferries and cruise ships running in and out, endless wind storms, botanical gardens and a coffee shop on every corner. They even have my beloved Starbucks here. It’s not the same though all this long black and flat white nonsense. All I want is a grande dark roast please.
We had yet another dinner out as a group followed by some silly antics by the boys on the bus which included but were not limited to dancing on the bar in their underwear. Silly boys trying to impress all the ladies. That’s what happens when you have only 6 guys on a tour full of women.
The next day was a relaxing day off wandering around the city with some of my new friends, visiting the botanical gardens and seeing the beauty of a city basking in sunshine. (It is a good thing it was sunny my first time through Wellington because I am currently back in Wellington hostel bond by the massive rain storm that has been following me all day since I left Nelson. But I will tell you more of that later.)
An easy night in followed by some sad goodbyes in the morning. I didn’t realize, nor did anyone else, that when we booked our trip all the different options were in fact the same bus and same trip but done in different legs. I was on from start to finish but many people joined and left throughout the journey leaving only a handful of the originals left by the time we returned to Christchurch.
Back on the bus, EARLY, to catch the interislander ferry from Wellington over to Picton. The trip is a little over 3 hours of the most boring time ever spent alive. I hate ferries. I hate the crowds of people, I hate the smells, I hate the exorbitantly overpriced food and beverage they trap you into buying. And the swaying, I hate the swaying. I don’t get motion sickness often but when I am on the ferry the swaying, silent seething over prices and my irrational fear of impending doom combine to make me feel unsteady at the best of times.
Happily, I can report that there were no incidents on the ferry and we all escaped unscathed by the evil floating metal box of doom. On to Christchurch we went.
We made a few pitstops on the way including one to check out a seal colony just outside of Kaikoura a town known mostly only for it’s whale watching expeditions. There are a lot of one off little towns in NZ, A LOT.
Christchurch, a town devastated by a multitude of earthquakes in the last year and a half. A town that spent the day today in mourning over the loss of lives in the big earthquake that happened one year ago, the one that brought it to it’s knees. We did not do much of anything other sleep in Christchurch. The ones that had started at the beginning like myself were midway now and ready for a break from all the go go go that the previous week had brought. One of the reasons I was never able to do a proper blog update while on tour was the simple fact that I had no time. The moments that we did have pause from either bus life, dinners or activities was generally spent lying on the bed wondering how we could keep going at the pace we had maintained up to that point. I have never been on a tour that was so full on as this one was. I think I aged far beyond my upcoming birthday age of 28 (which must have been apparent as I never got ID’d ONCE on this entire trip. You know you are getting old when a country that is excessively strict on it’s acceptable ID regulations, passport only, never asks for your ID cause obviously you are over 25. *le sigh*).
The next morning as we made our way away from our hotel we took a brief look at some of the devastation that the earthquake had thrust upon the town. Much of the worst parts have been torn down though there are several high rises that they are taking apart from the top down, layer by layer which still remain upright. There are empty lots everywhere, a tell tale sign that the buildings that were there before were rendered unusable. I would later on have a much more thorough drive through Christchurch and the surrounding suburbs with an old friend Mike but I will tell you more about it all later.
Seeing the devastation a year past was unsettling for me. The circumstances around the earthquake a year ago hit a little too close to home. If you weren’t aware of it already, Vancouver is also on a fault line, one that they say could give off ‘the big one’ at any time. I have always scoffed at this notion not really giving it more consideration than you would an old wives tale. Not as much anymore though.
They didn’t even know that there was a fault line underneath Christchurch. People in NZ always knew that there would be a big Earthquake but no one expected it to be in Christchurch. It wasn’t only the Earthquake though that caused the damage. It was the land itself that gave up. Being a town on the coast it is the product of sediment build up not unlike Richmond. When the earthquake hit the loose sediment started to mix with the water and started a process termed ‘liquefaction.’ This liquefaction caused roads to collapse into sink holes, houses to lean with no firm roots of foundation and a slurry of silty mud to ooze out of the ground. I can see the identical situation happening in Richmond and areas if we have an earthquake.
As I said it left me unsettled seeing the potential aftermath that could happen to us at home. I try not to worry about the future in regards to things that are completely out of my control but I have to admit it left me wondering if Vancouver is the safest place to live. 1 year later and they haven’t finished tearing down let alone rebuilding that town.
The letters are blurring on the screen, my eyes telling me it is time for bed. I will continue tomorrow. Nothing else to do in this rainy city anyway.
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