Good on Ya - New Zealand

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Bulls

We did not stay long in Wellington. In fact, the moment we left the ferry we started driving north on the 1. I already noticed a world of difference between the North and South Island. Although the South Island is considerably larger than the North, the North has about 4 million inhabitants, whereas the South has less than 500,000. In the South, we could drive for almost an hour between towns larger than two or three buildings. In the North, we were hitting towns every 15 or 20 minutes of driving, which meant, we were seeing McDonalds, Pizza Hut, and KFC just as frequently. In the South, every drive we took involved some major mountains and roads winding back and forth and up and down, driving Eric up the wall in Tom the van by the end of our South journey. The North, in comparison, sported faster highways, with a lot of straight lines. We did not have to worry about when we needed to fill up the gas tank or hit an ATM. In the South, you never knew when your next stop would produce gas or cash.

We were on our way to Taupo, towards the center of the North Island. We knew we would not make it the entire way the first night because we did not get to Wellington until well after 4pm, so we drove for about two hours, until Eric became too tired. That meant that we stopped in Bulls, New Zealand. We hit the Holiday Park just after the sign announcing the town. It was not until the morning that we continued our drive through Bulls, and they really take their name seriously - no bull. Every store, bar, market, hotel all had some form of bull in its title. It was quite quaint.

The other huge difference between the two islands was in the scenery. For the large part in the South every turn provided some vast view of brilliant scenery. The North, not so much. During one stretch we felt as though we were in the desert outside of Las Vegas. There were some dry looking mountains in the distance, a desert type scenery, with huge power lines running along the roadway, three deep. In addition, this stretch of road also included the NZ Army proving grounds, with numerous signs warning of the possibility of exploding live weaponry on both sides of the street. I kept my eyes peeled, just like I did for kangaroos in Sydney, but no such luck. After about three more hours, we passed through generally unremarkable scenery to finally arrive in Taupo.

Hot Springs

Taupo is known for some extreme activity including: (1) bungy - no thank you - been there done that; (2) hot springs; and (3) the cheapest skydiving deals in New Zealand. Mostly because I do not think skydiving is somewhere we you should be looking for a deal, we stayed in a great Holiday Park - DeBretts Spa Resort. Eric picked up the brochure at the information center, and I told Eric, “spa resort” was generally out of our price range. This resort, however, had the spa, the hot springs, and a caravan park for only USD$20 a night. The entrance to the hot springs was and additional $USD 10 for both of us. It was easily the best $10 we have spent.
We parked Tom in a quiet spot with a slight view of the lake that Taupo is built around. We threw on our suits and checked out the hot springs. They had several outdoor pools, ranging from hot to cool. The hot pool was about 41C, the main pool was about 39C, and the “cool pool” was about 35C. Each of the pools had bubbling and massaging sections, which we needed after spending so many nights sleeping in our tiny campervan bed. We spent at least an hour or so hopping from one pool to another, before retiring back to Tom. I took a nap, and was woken by about five kids who checked into the campervan site right next to us. After forcing myself to wake up, Eric and I decided to take a ride into town. We had a beer and a snack, and returned for another dip. This time we checked out the private pools after our pool hopping outdoors. The indoor, private pools were in the 37-40C degree range. We chose a little pool at 39C, the just right temperature. It was a little hokey, with a Tiki god hanging from the wall, spewing hot water into the pool. But again, totally relaxing. We moved to a more quiet spot for the campervan when we returned to the park, and were so tired and relaxed from our hot springs and our beer and snack, that we had a salad for dinner and called it a night.

Saying Goodbye to Tom

Our next stop was Auckland, for our last night with Tom. We arrived in Auckland in late afternoon, and headed to the city centre to do some shopping. Eric’s patience had been tried at this point. It was easily the worst drive yet. The road, heading south to north, had wicked cross winds almost the entire trip from Taupo to New Zealand. The winds just wanted to carry the hi-top van across the road. There was a cyclone or tropical storm hitting the east coast of Australia, so we were unsure whether the winds were related, or if they were normal for the area. Then, on our approach to Auckland, only a little after 3pm, traffic was atrocious. Eric was certainly happy to get out of the van, but trying to find parking for the hi-top in the city was also frustrating.

Once we parked Tom, we headed to the area surrounding the Sky Tower, similar to the one in Sydney and Seattle, and who knows how many other cities. We walked down to the water, and to the ferry terminal, which did not come close to giving Sydney a run for its money. We ran our shopping errands and went to search out our last Holiday Park for the night, and of course, hit a ton of traffic to get there. We did not go out in style for our last night.

The Holiday Park had a series of cabins surrounding the outside of the park in a concentric circle, with a small round campground in the center. In between were more cabins, and campervan parking spots everywhere there was a spare few square meters of space. We were parked next to a campervan, and backed up onto a cabin window, with several cabins just across the path from the front of the van. We felt a bit claustrophobic. Every time we walked through the campground to find the toilets and laundry more and more people filled in the space. We were quite a distance from the toilets, and it was cold and rainy. The cabins in front of us were filled with high school students who possibly were in a chorus or something. The strangest part was around 9pm a station wagon pulled right up beside us and parked in what was left of our site. The couple inside had the dome light on and spent about a half hour reading and looking at maps, and opening and closing their doors repeatedly. For awhile, we thought they were going to sleep in the back of the car in our site, but eventually they moved to the camp grounds. The entire time we were at the Holiday Park I was thanking god that we did not start in Auckland, making this park our first stop. We would never have lasted in the van thinking all Holiday Parks were like this one. In the morning, I realized that there were only three showers for all the woman in the park. It was the first time I waited for a shower, and I did so for close to twenty minutes. Not my favorite.

Despite the close quarters, the cold and the rain, we slept through the night, packed up Tom, and returned him to Explore More in the morning. We exchanged him for a normal rental car to spend the last five nights in New Zealand outside of Auckland. Overall, we were quite happy we rented the campervan, glad we extended it the extra two nights, but also happy we did not extend it further. I think if we had it longer we would have slowed down more, spent more than one night in several places, and maybe spent a night in a cabin at a Holiday Park to rest the back for a night. At this point, we were desperately looking forward to a real bed, and a closer toilet and shower.

Bay of Plenty

After picking up our Nissan Bluebird (which you would think would be a tiny little European thing, but was a full sized, four door, beige, automatic - a perfect retirement car), we headed east toward the Bay of Plenty. The Bay of Plenty is a long beach community running from about 2 hours outside of Auckland and continuing east from there. We stopped at Waihi, a small gold mining town half way between Auckland and our destination, Whakatane, for lunch. We stopped in the Pumphouse Café, a quaint restaurant run by a mother and son. We stopped at the counter to read the menu hung from the ceiling and Mum came out to walk us through the menu and take our order. She walked me back through the kitchen to escort me to the restroom. Eric paid the son at the register and when I returned, the three of them were in a lengthy conversation about the US, Baltimore, and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The son encouraged us to try a local lemon soda, an L&P. He then walked through the history of Waihi and the mining industry’s activities there, complete with visual aids - large aerial photos of the town and the mining pit. He was so proud of his town, explaining everything until our burgers arrived. And, oh, what a burger. We both ordered the “Worx Burger,” mostly because I wanted in on the burger action Eric had in Murchinson. The Worx included lettuce, tomato, onion, peppers, mushrooms, a fried egg, rashers (Irish style bacon), pineapple, beets, and the crowning achievement - a fried hash brown. The burgers initially arrived without the hash brown, and Mum brought it right out after, saying they forgot. At that point, I could barely get my mouth around the burger, and now she wanted to add a thick hash brown. It was crazy, wonderful, and amazing, bursting with flavors for only USD$4. We may try to stop in at Waihi for another on our way back to Auckland.

The goal for our last five nights in New Zealand was to relax by the beach and try to do as much nothingness as possible. We found our place. The commercial nature of the area started to thin out after we hit Tauranga, one of the larger cities on the Bay, which in fact faces the Pacific Ocean. We drove directly along the beach for a stretch, hit some farmland, and found our Holiday Park. Rather than staying in a town at a hotel or a hostel, we decided to check out some of the more unique accommodation offered by the Holiday Parks in New Zealand. We have seen the range of accommodation from tiny little cabins with little more than two bunk beds and door, to elaborate spa motels that look more like a Hilton or a W than a Holiday Park. We found the Thorton Holiday Park through the directory we brought from the states. We ended up with what is referred to as a “Park Motel,” which generally is on the high end of the accommodations offered. Our PM looked like a New England beach house, or at least one half of a beach house. It was split in two, like a row of townhouses. We had a two story, two bedroom cottage, with a decent sized living room, dining room, kitchen, and an enormous balcony. We had a view of the ocean from the upstairs bedroom, and a view from downstairs. We were set up on a tiny bit of a hill overlooking the parking area for the campervans and something referred to as a “batch.” It was a tiny bit of heaven.
A batch is a fancy trailer, semi-permanently attached to the Holiday Park grounds. They are purchased by their owners furnished, and the owners pay a rent to the Holiday Park owners for the land. They are two bedroom, with a little kitchen and living area, with a nice little balcony. I think little is the key word. To me, they are the perfect holiday home. They are not meant to be permanent residences, and are technically limited to only being used for 100 nights a year. But, they are right on the beach at the top of the sand dunes, only about two years old, and initially sold for only about USD$45K. And, if the owners want to change location, they can tow away the trailer and move it to another Holiday Park. Crazy. A batch is a great way to have a little vacation home at a completely reasonable price. Sheer genius.

Overall, this was the nicest Holiday Park we stayed at, with great amenities, including a giant bouncing pillow, which despite our size, we totally used. We walked on the beach, spoke to the local fisherman, but basically we slept a little later than we did in the campervan, and perfected doing nothing. We went grocery shopping in the local town, so we were fully self-contained. We enjoyed some local beer and still had a box of that fancy Country Wine we purchased for the van. We bought a red and white before shipping off in Tom, but the white did not fit in our tiny fridge. I will note that this very classy white wine was also clarified in the traditional way, using dairy and fish products. We, of course, referred to it as the fish wine. Quite high brow. Perfecting our laziness, we read our books, planned some of our future travel, and most of all, listened to the waves crash along the beach. A brilliant way to end our trip to New Zealand. It was also nice to play house and feel some normalcy before heading to Asia. To have our cereal and yogurt in the morning, watch some TV, including classic American shows like Ellen and Tyra, in addition to two nights of American Idol. We made dinner each night, paid bills electronically, and watched the sunset off the balcony. Brilliant.

My Life as a Hamster

We planned a day trip from our haven at the Bay of Plenty to Rotorua, about 90 km from Thorton, which is known for thermal hot springs and adventure activity. The thermal hot springs hit us in the face when we arrived. The windows were down and all we smelled were the sulfur hot springs, some of the most amazingly pungent, rotten eggs. I was thoroughly thrilled that we enjoyed the hot springs in Taupo instead. I don’t know if I could enjoy the hot springs with that awful smell. I was also very happy we did not decided on a lakeside Holiday Park in Rotorua for our last five nights. Our tour to Rotorua was driven by our desire to do one activity - Zorb. The next in our series of adrenaline filled, crazy kid behavior. The Zorb was developed in New Zealand. It is an “11 foot high inflatable sphere” - essentially, a giant hamster ball, in which humans are the voluntary hamsters. We had seen the Zorb on TV in States and it was on the top of our list of experiences we wanted during the M.P.

There are two Zorb rides. The Zorbit is a straight shoot down the hill, while harnessed into the ball. This means you roll head over feet numerous times before arriving at the bottom. The Zydro includes water inside the ball, and you are not harnessed in, allowing you to slip and slide all through the ball on the way through a zig zag route down the hill. The Zydro is advertised as a crossover between a water slide and a rollercoaster.

Going in there was no fear of this seemingly innocuous activity. Eric, in fact, was disappointed in how short the hill was. No shoes, no glasses, which of course, obscured my vision for the entire experience. I chose one of each type of Zorb, going for the dry first. We waited at the foot of the hill for a truck to take us to the top. Eric was first to go, into the wet Zorb. He dived in like superman and was shoved off, but I had to wait until the dry Zorb was returned via conveyor belt to the top of the hill. When my Zorb arrived, I climbed in feet first and sat in the seat with the harness. My feet were strapped into the base of the Zorb, and I had a shoulder and waist harnesses clinched (I note that there was more harnessing inside this inflatable ball than there was for bungy in Queenstown). There were two roped straps on the top of the ball for me to hold onto. My instructions were to press my feet into the base to help with the shock absorption, whatever that means. Within a few seconds, I was pushed straight down the hill. Head over feet I went over and over, bouncing my way down the hill. It was a weird sensation rolling down this hill, losing all sense of balance and perception. I knew when I was facing up because the sun was shinning, but the walls of the Zorb were more opaque, so you could not focus on anything in the distance, like, where is the end? When I made it towards the bottom I hit some sort of hill and bounced really high a few times, thinking my morning Fruit Loops would make a reappearance. I slowed down and the Zorb Wranglers grabbed my Zorb and pulled me to a complete stop. I tried to exit gracefully, feet first out of the tiny hole to the ball, but I do not think graceful exits are possible from an inflatable ball. It was completely amazing and I was excited for my second Zorb!

My second Zorb was the wet zorb, the Zydro. The hole to the Zorb is not all that big, enough for a human to squeeze into, but they ask you to dive in “superman style.” I dove in an splashed into a small amount of warm water. The Wrangler zipped me up and pushed me over into the zig zag. I had been concerned about the claustrophobic nature of the Zorb, and I started to feel it about half way down the hill. The warm water, mixed with the bright sunny day made the inside of the ball feel hot and steamy, and I started worrying how much air was in there. I bounced back and forth, left to right and back again, and I started wondering when I would reach the bottom. Despite the fact that Eric thought the hill was not all that high, I thought it was high enough at this point. During the first part of the hill I was entirely laying on my back rolling down and splashing around. I tried to prop myself up to sit inside of the ball, which helped me feel more in control. It was still fun, but I think I enjoyed the dry Zorb more, which according to the Wranglers, is unusual. I again, tried to exit gracefully, as the pull the Zorb hole down towards the ground, letting the water escape along with me, like a birthing calf. Overall, it was a great experience, but I am excited to be off to our next adventure.

Pulling the Cord

The Zorb experience is part of a larger company that has an Agrodome, which is a farm adventure, including a sheep show (not sure what the sheep do at the show), and Agrovetures. Agroventures includes several activities including Agrojet (like a go kart on water), bungy (again, no thanks), freefall xtreme (a skydiving experience, but only a few meters off of the ground), shweeb (human powered monorail), and Swoop. We were there for Swoop. Swoop is like a crossover between a superman flight and bungy. We were thrilled. We rode the Swoop together, with one arm crossed across the other’s, each packed into a canvas bag attached to cords that dragged us up to about 40 meters (only 3 meters shy of our bungy jump). We were slowly raised back and up and watched the scenery around us, including miniature ponies and other farm animals, and the other Agroventures stunts. When we arrived at the top, staring down to the stream below, the Swoop Guy was going to countdown to three and say ready. Of course, again, I had no glasses on and could not see him do the countdown. Nor could we hear anything with the Freefall and the Agrojet both whirring in the background. I asked Eric if he could see the Swoop Guy, and he assured me he could, so once Swoop Guy conducted the countdown and Eric pulled the cord.
We immediately dropped the 40 meters below, both of us screaming bloody murder. We flew through the take off area, and swung back and forth allowing us to fly through the air, each time a little lower than before. This, my friend, was totally enjoyable. This was way more fun and energizing than bungy, and even from the same height. Eric confirmed that, if asked, he could “pull the plug” so to speak. It also made us wonder what is wrong with us that we spent so much of the last 6 weeks, climbing the Sydney Harbour bridge, taking impromptu flights in tiny airplanes, paragliding, bungy jumping, zorbing, and swooping. What’s next? I think our next adventures will relate to risking malaria or dengue infections and eating questionable food. I can’t wait. We are off to Laos, via Bangkok, Tuesday, St. Patrick’s Day. Can’t wait!

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Photos

Waikato River
Thrusting the waters into Huka Falls

Huka Falls
Huka Falls in Taupo

View from Beach House
We can see the water past the Baches

Our deck
Perfect for relaxing.

Dinner is served
Local fish from the fish monger with Thai chilis. Spicy yummy.

Bay of Plenty
At the beach

The bouncy
Eric enjoying the bouncy, with our two story house in the background.

The Zorb Hill
That's me coming down the straight away.

Zorb
That's me in my Zorbit.

The Graceful Exit
I don't think there is a graceful way to enter or exit a Zorb.

Hanging out
The Swoop

40 Meters High
Eric had to pull the cord for us to fall the 40 meters.