Remembering to Breathe
Friendly Card Games and a Tale of Two Volcanoes
My time in Rotorua was short and not especially eventful. It’s a cute little stinker of a town with plenty of activities to do outside the town center, but not much within it. And all of those activities cost money! I only had maybe one full day to do something of note in the region and wanted it to count for something. I could skydive, go-kart or sit in a hot spring anywhere. So last Saturday night, I booked a tour of the Waimangu Volcanic Valley.
The valley is about thirty minutes outside of Rotorua, and famed for its thermal activity. It’s a two hour walk through some thirty or so freaky highlights; bubbling pools, steaming holes in the ground, hot and smelly waterfalls, and a shockingly blue pond that looks fresh enough to drink (it’s not and extremely acidic).
At the end of the walkway, I was one of four who also booked a cruise on Lake Rotomahana at the foot of Mount Tarawera that made it all happen. There’s a substantial crack along the side of the volcano that trails under the lake and through the valley from when it blew up in the 1880s, creating the space I had just trekked. At certain spots in the lake, bubbles pooled up from fissures on the lakebed. It was all very neat, and despite being underdressed and freezing my ass off on the boat, it at least remained sunny and picturesque. The easy highlight to my time near Rotorua.
On Monday, I packed up and headed four hours southwest to my latest and so far favorite city - New Plymouth in the Taranaki region. Despite arriving tired and in low spirits (The Pacers had lost the NBA Finals in tragic and heartbreaking fashion), I rapidly acclimated to my hostel in the heart of the city. My hostel in Rotorua was pleasant from a design standpoint (who doesn’t love a jacuzzi?), but apart from the couple of friends I made, not the most sociable clientele. This one in New Plymouth had so much charm and I made more friends there than anywhere else so far. Some from Germany, France, Portugal, Japan, England, Scotland, The Netherlands, and Australia. There’s something very special about playing a card game with six other people and no one is from the same country. Everybody laughs in the same language.
This week has been mostly rainy, but before it all rolled in, I had to take advantage of the highlight of the region - Taranaki, the giant mountain that overlooks the city. It’s a massive dormant volcano you can spot from any point in town, surrounded by hundreds of miles of hikes. I opted for a popular lookout that was said to take about four hours in total. The signs that noted there was no drinking water up the mountain put me at unease, so I thought to myself I would only do part of the trail, get a good look at the mountain, and then head back down.
After an hour and a half up nothing but stairs, no mountain yet in sight, I figured I might as well press on.
The temperature dropped and my legs turned to jelly, but there was still nothing to see besides trees, ferns, and more trees. And stairs. Good god, so many stairs. This was a hike I’m glad I did alone so as not to huff and puff in front of my new friends. As far as they knew, I was a seasoned hiker with years of experience.
But eventually, after so many godforsaken stairs, the greenery opened up into a wide panorama of rolling hills. I could see New Plymouth the other way I came, some 25km away, nestled on the coast. The icy mountain winds smacked me around a bit, and I had to get a jacket out. Pouakai Hut, a lonely hiker’s retreat, indicated that I was pretty close, but I didn’t realize just how close.
Just over the ridge, plain as day, was Taranaki. Barely a cloud to obscure it. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. Also there at the lookout was my Portuguese buddy from the hostel! Have I mentioned how small of a country this is? We ogled over the mountain and took our photos (because who would believe us if we didn’t?). I headed to the nearby reflective tarns, and he headed towards another peak. I hydrated, ate a protein bar, and admired the absurdly picturesque view of the volcano over the pool. It was not long that my numb hands signaled that it was time to head back down. Two more hours of stairs. My legs hurt for three days, but those views will linger a while longer.
I had planned to leave New Plymouth Friday, but was enjoying it so much I extended a couple days to continue hanging with these people. I was actually pretty sad to head out. There were by this point over ten of us in this wonderful crew. I even checked with the owner if he had extra room for one more WWOOFer. He declined, much as he would’ve loved for me to stick around. So we had one more go at the farmers market and a few more laughs before I set out, along with a German friend who requested to tag along in my direction. Miss those folks already, but as is already obvious: this is a small country, and I have a feeling I will see many of them again.
I’m writing this from my latest location; Fareham Collective, a massive repurposed Victorian home with loads of character and history, just an hour outside of Wellington. I have my own room, the owners and the Finnish WWOOFers here with me are extremely cool and lovely. And of course the ghosts make for great billiard partners. More to come!
Seven Pictures From This Week:
fun and gorgeous! love "everyone laughs in the same language"