Aukland, Rafting, Spas and Worm excrement.

---

Greetings one and all - or KIORA! - from New Zealand, Rotorua of the North Island.

We landed in Aulkand nearly one week ago, straight into the flow of yet another fast moving week.

Our time in Sydney fullfilled our plans nicely - chillax, see some of the great sights and get in some R and R. We managed to blag a room in Tracy's rented house for a week - thanks to another housemate moving out, suddenly, the sub-letter allowed Nic and I to have the room for fourty of your English for the week each - bingo. It's good when people throw you a bone when on a travellers budget.

Amoung the sights we soaked up, was Circular Quey. After a little memory loss as to exactly where this was and a slightly frustrating walk around the city, we eventually found ourselves sat with a view of the Harbour Bridge to our left (a.k.a 'The Coat Hanger') and the Opera House to our right. Arriving late in the afternoon, meant we caught them firstly in day light, but as the time and the sun slowly faded away, the light upon the harbour changed and formed a beautiful sunset, a time of day that is rapidly becoming my favourite. Too precious and special a moment not to embrace fully, I decided we'd do it in full force and scrapped our budget plan in order to purchase two rather nice glasses of white. Posh wine in hand, accompanied by a very special friend from Aberystwyth, I sat at the swanky Opera house Bar, looking out to the Bridge as the sun changed it's colour and surroundings. Beautiful. A moment I can't quite capture in writing as amazingly and beautifully as it happened in reality.

Another site we checked out was that of The Blue Mountains. Kindly, Carolyn drove Nic, Trace and I there and we had a little time to check out / reunite with another of my favourite Sydney sights. The Mountains did not look any less blue nor did the Three Sisters did not look any less stunning. At the look out, among several other tourists - all with the same idea, we took plentiful snaps, not of mine quite capturing the rich colours or sharp formation of the sisters, but none the less, a nice little memory for me, of the time, place, scenery and special company.

Aside from a quick trip to Paddies Market - a true haven of mixed nick nacks and clothing, the rest of our Sydney time was spent at the different beaches around or near Coogee, where we were staying. The weather has really started to pick up in here and having weather in the high 20s / early 30s was a treat after shivery Melbourne. We walked, ate beautiful breakfasts, drank delicious coffees at cute coffee houses and took in the scene and life style surrounding us at Coggee / Bronte and surrounding localities. The walks eased the guilt of the beer consumed on our Great Ocean Road trip and allowed us some time to breathe more fresh sea air as well as the chance to stop and sit upon rocks to admire the blue waters, their waves and the brave surfers who rode them effortlessly (or so it seemed). I am not sure when I will next get back to Sydney, but it was a pleasure to be there once again and I feel truly lucky that I have a good friend living there - giving me the perfect excuse to go back again one day :-)

On our last night in Sydney, after farewell drinks and a wee night out on the town, ended by the stealing of some items left out for rubbish by the neighbours (namely, a chair) we found ourselves unpacked at 3 am and ever so slightly intoxicated. After collecting my life once again and placing it delicately into my back pack, I decided upon a 5 am call to mother dearest - which was lovely but large amounts of chatter resulted in 5.45am to bed. Guess what was lined up for the next day.... yes, you guessed correctly, another flight. I don't get any smarter with the organisation of nights out and flying. We don't do it on purpose, but each time we board a plane, there somehow seems to be a guarantee that we will do so whilst feeling like shit.

Our arrival to Aukland was on the back of 1. 5 hours sleep so as you can proabbly imagine, we were not feeling fussy re accomodation and did not object when given a windowless box room to land in. A room in which we lost all sense of day light and consequently time and had no idea that we had slept until 2pm the following day - a welcome mistake after such little sleep the night before.

After catching up on sleep and indeed ourselves, we made our way around Aukland, exploring the Viaduct harbour and eventually stopping for a bite to eat. Although quiet and a Sunday, there was still a sense of a scene here, with a couple of live singers and cute bars - I wouldn't mind seeing this harbour one day in summer when the weather is fine and the amount of people busier. Aside from a little touch of shopping, posting some over due postcards ( I have sent them to everyone I could think of / had address for - please let me know if you want one and I haven't sent one, I'm collecting so many - just e-mail me your address), our time in Aukland was pretty quiet and chilled. We did make it to Mount Eden in the rain and Mist, a cute little mountain which we nailed effortlessly after Mount Kinabalu (we have re-named that mountain Mount KILLER-balu). The lush greenery and cows we came into contact with helped momentary feelings of homesickness and made me feel once again, like I was in Wales - a very welcome feeling.

After a delayed and somewhat shaky flight, Tracy came to meet us in Aukland, ready to board our bus and begin touring the North Island the next day. Our bus awaited us at stupid o' clock (this is also known as 7.30 am) and we soon hit the road - bound for a charming little place called Waitomo. En route, we had the most bizare stop. We pulled up at a shed that had written on it 'Sheering'. Feeling so much like I am in fact in Wales, I expected nothing other than seeing some sheep loose their hair. Wrong. This sheering was done to that of rabbits and the wool later used to make a very expensive range of produce, ranging from jumpers, skiing hats to baby booties. Feeling as if we had drifted back fifty years in time, we watched as a poor rabbit was tied to what I can only describe as a barbeque stick / device (and twisted around on it too) before loosing the majority of it's hair to a machine resembling a tool one might see at a hairdressers when they ask for a Grade One. Surreal. Life certainly isn't boring here in New Zealand.

Our next stop also confirmed the above as we were taken to 'kit up' in wetsuits, helmets complete with torches and bright white wellingtom boots, ready for our next bizare adventure. We were aware that we were off to see Glow worms in a cave, but as to how, for how long or at what speed remained very much unknown to me.
In our full attire and feeling pretty much like a bunch of wankers, our group of 8 walked through a field of cows (and their excrement) to the cave openings. We first entered a clearling, whereby we had to pick up a rubber ring ready for our trip to the cave. At this point, I assumed that our journey would consist of tubing quite speedily through a series of waterfalls and rapids, so I was later to be proved wrong.

Our cave experience began with a few quick introductions and then a gentle walk through the caves. We were brought to a halt and asked to switch off the torches attached to our glamorous hats - when we looked up, it was a delight to see so many different bright, beautiful colours shine above us. It made me think instantly of christmas and the most beautiful light display I ever saw and suddenly, in the dark, muddy caves, in october and thousands of miles away form home, I began to feel rather festive. Not only were the colours of the worms so stunning and eye catching, but the patterns they formed so very easy on the eye too. Our leader was someting of a joker, so it was very hard to tell if he was jesting when he claimed that the beautiful colours that shone down at us were not actually the worms, but in fact, their excrement. It would appear over time that he was not messing around and I am enlighted that in fact poop can be so very pretty - such a shame I can't prove this with a photo - but no cameras were allowed for what followed was a rather wet trip through the caves. During this, with use of our tubes, we formed a human daisy chain and floated through the caves in total darkness and silence (apart from the odd comment and prank form our leader). Looking up at the worms (well, their excrament) and hearing the dropping of water made for a surreal yet surprisingly relaxing journey through the caves and it was only as we could hear the sound of a waterfall ahead (accompanied by further winding up from our guide) that I felt ever so slightly panicky. Before I knew it, I was being told to jump backwards down a waterfall and ready to land a large muddy, not to mention bloody cold pool at the bottom. Interesting enough, however our journey became even more so as we later had to go down a slide in the midst of a waterfall, yet again set to land in a mud pool. Luckily, this drop led us to the end of our caving experience and we were soon taken home for hot showers and soup and ready to travel onwards to Rotorua, where I write from now.

Surrounded by a somewhat strong smell of rotten eggs - this haven of sulphur is certainly an interesting place to be.
Plentiful natural spas and hotsprings - all of which heated naturally, it has been a relaxing (if a tad smelly) place to be for a few days. Trace and I made our way to Hellsgate yesterday - a local spa, where we got to lie in and cake ourselves in natural mud. After a very cold shower and a dip in a sulphur pool, we changed and took ourselves on a pretty walk around the area. Feeling like I was on some kind of movie set, maybe Charlie and The Chocolate Factory (but with far smellier and much less tasty choclate) we observed the several boiling hot sulphur pools and admired the biggest hot water fall in the southern hemisphere. We walked past bubbling pools, which occasionally errupted, reminding me of volcanoes. An interesting morning and indeed and a relaxing one too.

Among our exciting adventures and activities here has also been an insightful visit to a Maori village. Where we first walked around the village, secondly watched a concert performed to us by Maori people and thridly ate a traditionally cooked Maori meal. Following a hilarious bus journey to the village, whereby the driver spoke more than fifty different languages (including welsh!!!), beeped his horn relentlessly and selected a leader to take us into the village, we made our way in. The concert that followed was really interesting and I sat trying to work out the reason for what seemed to be slightly aggressive dancing and the patrouding of the eyes and quick poking in and out of tounges. It was later explained that this was a traditional ritual for preparing one'self for a battle - as if to psyche themselves up and protect themselves. Great to learn new things, especially within ancient tribes in a country so far from my own.

The dancing and singing that followed was done so tunefully and with such passion and fine movement, that I felt moved myself and wished I could dance and sing so publicly, happliy and freely with no end of ease and passion. After a traditional and beautiful Maori meal, all of which cooked under ground with use of fire, stones and a bedsheet, we were performed one last dance before being driven home by the same nutty driver. It was soon proven that I can not sing with such ease or little effort, when our driver forced members of each nationality present to sing their country's National Anthem. I thought he would let it go when we hid and refused, however, he pulled the bus over and refused to continue driving until we sang (thank GOD there were two of us and I didn't have to encounter this public humiliation and indeed HELL alone). After a supportive turn off of the light upon realisation that we were mortified to have to sing, with all our might we pelted out a bit of 'Gwlad Gwlad' and turned crimson as the entire bus applauded our eventual bravery. The driver became no less nutty and drove along, singing nursey rhymes, whilst INSISTING other national anthems were sung. What a gem. The evening itself and visit to the Maori village was very memorable and insightful, the journeys there and back will be remembered equally due to their pure hilarity and high level of entertainment.

The most recent of our adventures took place this morning, as Nicola and I made our way, once again to Hellsgate, this time to encounter some White Water Rafting. I am glad that I enter these escapades with very little idea of what to expect, as if I knew what was ahead, I may well pull out. Once again, we put on our attire, sexy wet suits, this time complete with a felt insulation jacket and some diving boots. I have become accustomed to feeling a plonker in this gear by now and am not lying when I say it's quite enjoyable to dress up this way - pride schmide. Fashion, pride and looking good were amoung the least of my worries when our raft leader began uttering commands and drills for if the boat tips (whilst stating this could be a possibility - great.) After a few quick tips from our guide as to rowing, we were ready to rock and row (sorry, I have been listening to such bad jokes on tours lately, they are starting to rub off on me now).

We were soon in the midst of rapids of The river KAITIAKI and being asked to paddle backwards, forwards and learning the 'GET DOWN' command. It didn't feel long before we were faced with our first waterfall. Rowing frantically towards it, suddenly, it was time to put 'GET DOWN' into reality. Holding on for dear life, we sped up to the edge of the fall and were soon very much part of it as we shot down, like children on the bumpiest, WETEST, fastest and possibly most unsafe slide. Ridiculous fun. The Waterfalls only got steeper and as we faced a 7 meter fall, that apparently hurled 26 tons of water per square mile (you do the math) it'd be fair to say I was pretty scared. We bellowed Maori phrases and rhymes under the guidance of our leader (myself, very much hoping they'd do the trick) and drew nearer and nearer to the waterfall. Our raft scooped up a large amount of water, practically turning itself into a swimming pool as we delved under the fall. We made it to the other side and held up our oars for a celebration. Our rafting experience carried on in much the same vein and I had an excellent morning. I am now however cream crackered and ready to draw this to a close.

Such a small country, yet so much to do and see, not to mention the similarities to Wales. I love New Zealand so far and I really hope it'll remain this way and my first impressions are correct. I am sure I will get to writing another blog along the way to let you know and share.

Sending huge amounts of hugs to everyone reading and huge thanks for messages - these really put a smile on my face as do the comments on here. Don't forget to give me your address if you want a post card all the way from the land of Kiwis. With all my love, Lisa xxxxx

---