The Green Hills (and Dark Caves) of Waitomo


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Oceania » New Zealand » North Island » Waitomo
December 23rd 2007
Published: January 3rd 2008
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Day 55: Slices of toast: 14, Lumps of prime beef: 10, Trimmed Angoran rabbits: 2, Electric shocks: 1

It wasn't a great start to the day when I was woken up at six this morning as the two women I was sharing a dorm with got up to start to start their packing (everyone knows that if you're leaving early, you pack up all your stuff the night before, especially if it's in plastic bags. Right?). Having to wake up at seven anyway, I didn't have enough time to get back to sleep, and so got up and head into town for breakfast, before catching the bus to Waitomo. Even with stops, it was only a three hour drive, and with a partially full coach and no children on board, I slept for most of the journey.

Waitomo, it turns out, isn't very big. Set in beautiful green hilly countryside with only twelve or so buildings making up the town centre, I had already decided on arrival that I could quite happily spend a week or two here. My hostel dorm in a chalet-style lodge wasn't going to be ready for a couple of hours, and so with caffeinated drinks on board, I walked down to the visitor centre to confirm my caving trip for the next day and see if they could suggest any other attractions I could visit whilst waiting to check-in to my room. The tourist information people there seemed quite keen that I should go for a little walk up the road, and pointed me in the direction of 'The Shearing Shed'.

So the Shearing Shed was a bit nuts, but as one of the few buildings in Waitomo, I felt it would be worth a look (and it was)! Rather than trimming sheep as I'd initially expected, the animals receiving a haircut were some giant fluffy angora rabbits. Taking it all very seriously, myself and a few other visitors were given a running commentary of the history of rabbit shearing and reasons behind it, whilst a poor fluffy creature (called Gareth) was tied up, restrained spit-roast style and clippered of all his fur resulting in a transformation from fur-ball to fur-less in about 2 minutes. Having met a couple of the other rabbits, it was then onto the shop, a knitters haven with balls of wool and jumpers aplenty. There was also an incredible amount of sheep memorobilia. I'm really going to have to be careful here, I can see myself shortly having to send home a whole assortment of sheepish items from fluffy toys and t-shirts to bathroom tiles decorated with frolicking lambs. I have finally found a country where there is indeed a sheep for every occasion.

After all the excitement of the shearing shed, I thought I should calm myself down a bit and head to the local museum, which contained interesting and informative displays and exhibits relating to the extensive cave system laying under a Waitomo, and a history of caving in the area.

I finally checked into my room in the lodge in the early afternoon, and soon after located the village shop to get some food for lunch and dinner. The selection of items were, shall we say, slightly restricted. I certainly wasn't going to be getting that USB memory stick, or indeed any sunscreen, and only managed to come away with a feast of bread, marmite (not the real stuff, it tasted like vegimite), and a tin of beans.

After lunch, I decided that suncream or no suncream, the weather was too lovely to not go for a walk and so I set off along the Waitomo walkway. Fortunately, half of the trek was through shady woodland, but with some exposed stretches alongside the river I did end up turning a bit pink in places. It was worth it though. After a few kilometres, I ran out of signposts marking the walkway, and instead found myself in a field surrounded by what looked like an electric fence, with no way forwards. I've never really believed in electric fences, that is, they just don't look any more threatening than any other bit of non-barbed wire attached to posts. With what seemed like restricted options, I thought I'd give the fence a go and tried crawling under. I tentatively touched the 'live' fence and nothing happened. Feeling a bit smug, I grabbed the fence to hold it up so that I could climb under it, but it turns out, that although I didn't feel anything from tapping the fence, prolonged contact had a different effect and I was soon seeking an alternative route!

Retracing my steps, I tried another track up a rocky hill, only to find myself in a field full of giant bulls. After realising that I wasn't doing too well and wishing that I had inbuilt sat-nav, I eventually relocated the not-so-beaten path and rejoined it walking alongside the river, over a swing bridge and into a forest. Thankfully, having arrived after the coach trips visiting the caves had left, I had the nearby forest and footpaths pretty much to myself and walking in a loop along the Ruakuri Natural track, I passed deep canyons, small cave entrances, crouched through natural tunnels, and followed paths overlooking giant caverns. It was a great walk, probably one of the best short walks I've been on, and definitely worth the few near-death experiences I'd had en route.

I managed to stick to the path on the way back, and being New Zealand and summertime, despite it being quite late in the day, it was still light and would be for the next hour or two, so I climbed up to Waitomo viewing point, a big hill looking out over the small village and hills beyond, to take in some of the fantastic scenery.

Back at the lodge, I was sharing with three girls from the 'Kiwi Experience' backpacker bus. Although Australia has it's fair share of fixed route 'Oz Experience' buses (other over-priced methods of backpacker transport are available), I didn't meet too many people who were travelling on them; here though, they seem pretty popular, with most people seeming to be affiliated with one company or another, leaping on and off buses and and spending nights here there and everywhere. Although I'm sure the companies have their advantages, I think I'll stick to my bus pass, which at least lets me have some flexibility as to where I go and when, and means that I'm not constantly surrounded by backpackers! (Yes, I do appreciate that there's something wrong with the previous statement). Anyways, I really am waffling today, probably because I'm loving the countryside here and it's such a huge contrast to the joys of Brisbane, but all the same, I'd better go and get some sleep!


Day 56: Going Underground

Avoiding the backpacker hoardes who were by-and-large restricted to half a day caving, I joined a group of four kiwis, two ozzies (all bloody couples, yes I am getting a bit Meldrewesque in the run up to Christmas, but along with too many backpackers, there are definitely too many happy families and loved up young marrieds around for my liking), and two guides, to a farm twenty minutes drive away, where we were provided with wetsuits and wellies ready for our caving adventure.

All dressed up in atire suited for underground explorations, it was thankfully only a short tramp to the mouth of the giant cave we were due to enter, and several safety checks later, we were off on the longest commercial abseil in the world, descending one hundred metres into the mouth of a ginormous cave. It took about half an hour to reach firm ground, and although it had been pretty scary at first, the scenery on the way down had been quite spectacular, with some great foliage and big rocky overhangs.

Although a slightly bizarre setting for a picnic, we were provided with sandwiches, biccies and a cup of coffee at the bottom of the huge pit, before starting some epic caving in search of a way out back to the surface again. Over lunch, we also got to meet 'Eugene', one of the guide's pet eels, who was waiting around at a nearby stretch of river and surfaced when coaxed a little with pieces of ham.

The caving itself was great, very cold and wet, with some big climbs, great waterfalls, and plenty of glow worms. We were down in the caves squeezing through gaps and dive-bombing into pools of water for a good five hours, before finally reemerging into the sunlight. Absolutely exhausted, it was then a twenty minute uphill struggle in heavy wetsuits back to the farm where hot showers and a barbecue awaited.

Whoever said that the common cold is caused by a virus was definitely wrong. I am now fairly sure that it's caused by repeatedly submerging oneself into icy cold water in dark dank caves (or similar), over the course of several hours. Although I had a fantastic time, I was definitely not feeling so fabulous a few hours later and subsequently had to dose myself up with chocolate cookies before collapsing into bed in the dorm, which with the tour bus gone, I was very grateful to have to myself.



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