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Published: March 16th 2016
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Today I say goodbye to Rotorua and catch my bus to Taupo. I almost miss it despite being at the right spot really early. Instead of the green Intercity bus I was expecting it's a white bus with another company's name on the side and just an Intercity sign on a board in the front window. Lucky I checked and red faced Ray welcomes me on board. It's only a one hour ride so I'm very soon settling into my next hostel, the Rainbow lodge. It's a bit more rough and ready than the previous one (linked to the international YHA) but the reception girl is really friendly and helpful even helping me phone to arrange a switch of days for my Tongariro Alpine crossing shuttle - the weather forecast seems better in a couple of days.
Unfortunately I'm in a top bunk this time and inwardly sigh at the thought of struggling up and down the wooden ladder numerous times in the night (3 kids, weak bladder, say no more!). I'm sharing with three German girls who seem really embarrassed by the mess they've made. I'm not fussed, I'm not your mum. I'm on holiday from all that.
I have some lunch then rashly set out on one of the hostel bikes. Rash because it's a mountain bike making me have to lean forward instead of sitting upright like I'm used to, and with a razor blade for a saddle, well that's what it feels like anyway. I'm heading for the Huka falls and think that I'll be meandering along a lovely flat riverside path - that's what it looks like on the map. Silly me, cycle paths are designed by mentally unstable people who have zero idea how to enjoy cycling. The lovely flat riverside path has been reserved for sane people without bikes. Cyclists it seems have to endure a twisting, turning, bumpy, rocky, hilly, gravelly 'track' that involves cycling about five times further than necessary in order to reach the falls. It's all up high and nowhere near the river, with hardly any views - not that you'd be able to enjoy them if there were any as you have to concentrate really hard just to stay on the track and avoid hurtling into the abyss. I have to walk up the hilly bits and brake loads down the downhill bits. I'm sweating like sumo
wrestler, my face is the colour of beetroot and throwing off enough heat to warm an entire village for a year. I f**king hate mountain biking!
Thankfully when I do arrive at the Huka falls they are suitably impressive. They gush through a narrow gorge for about 500m at such a speed. The water is a beautiful sky blue and spills a out at the end over a short, but very violent 9m drop. The sign says that 200,000 litres of water plunges over the falls every second. That's enough water to fill 5 olympic size swimming pools. Apparently there are no eels in lake Taupo which feeds the Huka falls as they can't cope with upstream migration due to the strength of the water here.
We suddenly notice a power boat zooming up towards the bottom of the falls. It makes a few impressive and daring circles in front of the falls, the people in the boat screaming and laughing with each sweep past. They soon head off back down the river where they'd come from, not before heading straight at a rock face, veering away just at the last minute accompanied by yet more screaming.
After resting a while, fanning my beetroot face and pulling my soaking top away from my back, I head off back to Taupo the sensible way - ON THE SURFACED ROAD!!!
Mountain biking - heinous activity - never again!
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