The Egg Waka

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My main (vague) objective for this trip was to, above all else, have a decently wicked summer. Clearly New Zealand is the place to be, but the reason why I decided to visit the other side of the world escaped me, as I stepped out of Auckland International. New Zealand - possibly officially the furthest country from my home town of humble UK - is of course so far South it is experiencing the bleak midwinter as you read this.*

Luckily for me though, Auckland (at least) in winter is indistiguishable from the UK in summer.

Auckland is a city pinched by bays of two oceans. The harbour bridge (although not nearly as impressive as Sydney's) spans across to part of the North and complements the skyline's impressive spattering of skyscrapers. It is officially the largest city in New Zealand, and although it only has a population of a few hundred thousand, would take about an hour to drive from one side of the other. Good for house sizes, very very bad for traffic.

The jetlag was starting to lift a little, and in my time in Auckland I managed to eat a (very highly recommended) beef and cheese Korean pancake, and force myself out to walk up the city's mount eden. Unfortunately this was the first stop on the bus the following day, rendering my only achievement redundant. Mount eden is an old volcano situated to the south of the city centre, and the highest non-manmade point in the city. It offers clear and brilliant views of the entire city, and over to both the Tasman sea and Pacific Ocean on either side of the city. The top has a colossal crater a good 50m deep, considered highly sacred by New Zealanders.

An alleged prank some years ago was some mystery jokers drove up to the crater early one morning, filled it with tyres, and set them alight. Naturally, the thick black smoke emerging out the top of the volcano caused all manner of panic and mass hysteria (the fact that the volcano has remained inactive for the past 15,000 years did not diffuse the general public chaos). The perpetrators were never caught. Best practical joke ever?

Those of you who have seen Prince Caspian will be familiar with the next stop - Cathedral Cove. This picturesque North facing beach is surrounded by limestone formations and sky blue water. For some reason, I decided to strip down into my underwear and go for a swim in the crystal blue water, to which I was joined by around 0 of the other people on the beach. The temperature and lonliness in the water forced me to cut my trip to a rock outcropping short, and, stepping out of the water like some ancient legged fish, I discovered the practical way that cheap boxers are not the ideal swimming garments for two reasons. One - white goes see through when wet. Two - cheap boxers don't come with buttons to fasten the fly at the front. My excuses about the water being cold did little to defend myself.

Any of you keen on the smell of bad eggs will feel right at home in Rotorua. The town is placed on a multitude of geothermal springs, placidly emitting a sulphurous odour 24 hours a day. Apparently when it rains it can make the smell especially potent.

Believe it or not, the aroma is not the only reason tourists come to visit Rotorua. It is a tourism hotspot for viewing the true culture and lifestyles of New Zealand (albeit through a pair of tourism-tinted glasses), and that evening was the Tamaki Maori Village experience. I can announce that, after an intense application process, gruelling interrogation, and assessment of my physical ability (or not), I was elected chief of the Waka (canoe (or bus)), meaning it was my job to lead my tribe off the bus and represent them all evening. Would have been more impressive if I had an electorate rival but there you go.

The beginning initial opening ceremony at the start was my main role - to stand and face up to the intimidation of the Maori tribes and their war dance. This was actually an incredibly moving experience, both for being part of an ancient tradition, and also for fear of being hit in the face by their swinging sticks. The worst offence (apart from doing bad imitiations of the warriors) was apparently to laugh while they were doing their opening dance. The fear of being assaulted safely suppressed this most primitive desire, and I walked out of the ceremony both in awe and with my face intact.

The rest of the evening was a look at the ancient ways of the tribe, such as games to improve hand-eye co-ordination, tattoos (carved into the face with a chisel? I may have missed something there), and a hangi, a huge dinner smoked on hot volcanic rocks. The climax of the evening was my chance to perform the All Black's Haka. Unfortunately I, along with the other chiefs, had had my fair share of Kiwi fruit cocktails and, even more unfortunately, there may be video evidence somewhere.

Moving on to a more recent addition to the New Zealand culture - sheep. The next morning I attended a quite hilarious farm show - tailored to take the mickey out of both tourists and the New Zealand economy. I'm afraid there is no way I can quite capture the magic of that via my mortal diction, but let me assure you, I would definitely go against 21 years of life experience and say, yes, it is worth paying to watch a dog follow a pair of ducks around a stage.

I'm parablogging a large portion of my experiences here, and for that I apologise. This blog has already become far too long, and I'm not sure what something becomes when it gets even longer than that. I will make a new addition in the next couple of days describing my (quite different) foray out to the East Cape of New Zealand. Until then, enjoy!



*Providing you are reading this in July.

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Photos

Auckland and Mount Eden Crater
To get a sense of scale, look at the car on the other side of the crater.

Huka Falls
The Highest Volume Flow Rate in New Zealand