Week 2 Waitomo and Taupo
December 5, 2011
Today I successfully exited Raglan and made my way to
Waitomo. I had tried yesterday after
meeting yet another French national who owned a car was headed south. But after his car broke down 35 miles from
Raglan I hitch hiked back by standing in the rain with my thumb pointed back
the way I came. After being involved in
2 broken down cars (each with French drivers) I left the surf spot today with a
young sociable Dutch man by the name of Bas Heineka. Although when he says it it sounds pretty
much like Boss Heineken, an all together awesome name to have. His car fared better than those before him and
in two short hours we arrived at a new hostel called Juno Hall. Waitomo is not so much a town as it is a spot
where many tourists come to explore the Waitomo Caves. Although this spot is significantly more
geared for large amounts of tourists than I would prefer I can’t help but want
to explore the caves as well. And so Bas
and I have booked for ourselves a bit of black water rafting tomorrow. It is not quite as it sounds; it is not true
rafting in pitch black, rather a cave exploration with wetsuits I think. Whatever it will be it had better be
impressive considering the heap of cash that it has parted from me.
December 6, 2011
Well Bas and I have just returned from our blackwater
rafting trip down one of the many Waitomo Caves. Yes, it did cost me $132 NZD but I have to
say it was a certainly a remarkable experience.
Our group was small; there were only four of us and our guide, crawling
and groping our way through the caves.
There are no rapids per se, but there are plenty of opportunities for
excitement. You must be careful not to
knock your head on the stalactites (top) and bump your knees on the ‘mites
coming up from the bottom or go wandering down the wrong passageway. One of the biggest selling points was our
view of the glowworms that are attached to the cave ceilings. Emanating a beautiful blue light, the tiny
worms apparently vary in brightness depending on their hunger. Turning off our headlamps and floating
through the cold water we gazed up at our own little conservatory, silently
taking in their bioluminescence. At
other times we were squeezing our bodies through tunnels watching that we
didn’t cut ourselves on the limestone that surrounded us. Staying underground for nearly three hours it
was a shock to my eyes as we surfaced to the forest’s surrounding green.
December 7, 2011
Bas and I have relocated ourselves to the central landing
of Taupo, a small but roomy town that derives its name from the adjacent
lake. It is here that one can partake in
any of the wild adventure sports that any man could possibly invent. There is bungee jumping, skydiving, heli
rides, jet boating and more. Anything
you can think to jump off or from or strap an engine to is found here in Taupo.
Of course I will avoid most of these due either to my limited interest in
heights or my miserly ways. There are
also some day hikes to be done in the area and I will pursue these with earnest….tomorrow.
There wasn’t enough time nor energy to
participate in them today except I was able to enjoy my first natural thermals
of New Zealand. Free to the public we
walked to the site where a natural hot spring has formed and flows into river. It is here, where they meet, that you sit and
soak. So strange it is to feel hot water
pouring at you in currents hitting your chest while at the very same moment your
back endures the cold river behind you. There
could easily have been a 50 degree temperature difference and at times the thermal
currents would make sudden change and your right arm and left foot would be in
a cold pocket while you stand, thinking nothing, as your head is bent under a 105
degree waterfall. This is one of the
many reasons to come experience New Zealand.
We did not however,
come to this beautiful new spot until I had spent the previous night in the
throngs of my little misery. You see I
had purchased what I believed to be a 1 man tent that was supposed to be waterproof
and well, fit 1 man. Its acquisition was
more for those unexpected Biblical events of “no more room at the Inn” but
while I was at my previous hostel I decided to pay for the camping rate and test
my lady before the big dance. My first
mistake was when I bought the damn thing and read its size in metric, I failed
to accurately convert its measurements. To
its credit the tent was easy to assemble since both poles combined
didn't reach past my knees. The box should have
shown a midget ducking under a line and said “You must be this short to
sleep in this tent”. Once assembled, my
tarpaulin coffin never allowed enough space to even sit without my head poking
through the paper like roof. This may
have been manageable, but as I lay awake last night my breath began to condense
on the interior of my human shopping bag and by mid-morning it was raining both inside and out.
December 9, 2011
I have spent the past two days taking in the free
activities of the Taupo area by putting my size 11 transport hard to work. The first day I headed out to the popular
spot of Huka Falls, a vividly blue waterfall that is more spectacular to
witness its color than actual fluid volume.
Many tourists drive or make the relatively short hike out of Taupo to
visit this spot, only to snap a photo, turn around and head back. Instead I pushed on to the Craters of the
Moon walk and for a nominal $6 entrance fee I entertained myself under the hot
sun by listlessly touring some active and hissing craters somewhere beyond Taupo. Compared to Yellowstone these craters and
thermal hotspots presented little competition but the surrounding scenery was
worth the hike. Having completed a
modest 15km at minimal slope, the day was to be but an exercise in exercise,
preparing me for the following day. That night as I prepared my dinner in the
hostel kitchen I found myself rubbing elbows with Germans and Israelis alike.
The next day presented itself in such a spectacular
fashion that I would have been a fool not to undertake another expedition. This time I opted for Mt Tuarhara, a high
point nearby to Taupo that was supposed to yield excellent vistas. The only “problem” as some had told me was
that it would be a 2 hour walk out of town to the trailhead alongside the
highway. First of all, everyone’s
predictions on how long it will take are often too generous as I find it
necessary to beat any prediction if only for my own satisfaction. Secondly, the shuttle to take you there would
have been $20, a cost too offensive to even consider. And I would have walked the whole way too if
it hadn’t been for the generous Sheriff’s deputy who pulled up alongside me on
Highway 1 and requested that I be escorted the final distance to the
trail. I think we can all hope that is
the only time I ride in the back of a New Zealand police car.
The hike began in the pasture of a local resident before
ascending quickly through native bush until you finally break free to a
clearing at the top. I was amazed at how
far I could see as I slowly turned my feet in a 360 degree arc. Lake Taupo to my south seemed to stretch
forever, inviting a comparison to the great Flathead that I had seen so many
times. The weather held perfectly and I
found myself passing the next hour perched on a rock, feasting on a can of tuna
and the view below me. After exiting the
trail it was but 15 minutes to hitch a ride back to Taupo and wander the
streets for the nearest grocer to select the appropriate meat and beer to be
had for the evening. The answer is
suspiciously similar to back in the USA; the cheapest one available.
