Report 11.

Continuing our travels twixt country apt. and city townhouse, Susie’s report continues: On March 13 we drove to Rotorua (of course, I call it Roto—rooter! ), about 3 hrs. SE of here. Anyway, my only “bi-lingual” experience is to learn that Rotorua means two rivers. This area is on a volcanic fault that still has many active thermal areas. (R: There was a major eruption in 1886, if I recall correctly, that buried some local villages. The boiling springs and escaping steam make you think another eruption could happen any time, but I’m sure the scientists know better.) It’s a great place to visit if you don’t mind the smell of rotten eggs. Actually, you get used to the smell after a while—well, maybe! We stayed in a “Holiday Park” with individual log cabins—very cozy. However, the cabin of our neighbors, who were from Australia and California, was totally burglarized while they were out to dinner---passports and EVERYTHING—only had clothes on their backs. So much for the hospitable New Zealanders---unfortunately, there are “bad guys” everywhere.

There were many memorable activities in this area: a visit to the Government Gardens with beautiful flowers, a distinctive building housing their museum, and a croquet course the size of a football field; observing many active thermal hot spots (even on the golf course—beware the steam traps!); a two hour walk through the Whakarewarewa Forest Park took us up and down, around and across, in and out of beautiful hills, lakes, hot spots, waterfalls. “Rob, are we there yet?” I KNEW I shouldn’t have married this kid. There were so few other people tramping on this path that I knew I had to keep up with him or he might just leave me breathless and I would never had been found. The interesting part is that we had to PAY to go on this walk. It really was something not to be missed.

However, the absolute Rotorua highlight was the performance by a Maori group displaying dances and dispensing cultural information in one of the town’s hotels. One dance was representative of the gyrations and the chanting that the warriors did as they prepared for battle. A lot of energy was expended and the “scary” signal was the vigorous extending of each warrior’s tongue and rolling the tongue around the chin or as far as the tongue could be projected. Well, you guessed it. Rob was one of three chosen from the audience to learn and, subsequently, perform the dance. I almost embarrassed myself from laughing so hard. He would try to stick his tongue out (which he can’t – a genetic defect) and doing so, his eyes would pop out. So much for Easterling the Maori warrior. (R: fortunately Susie didn’t have o camera.) He was a good sport and was rewarded by a bear hug from one of the dancers. I told one young man that the Maori men needed to come to the US to play football. Many of them are HUGE.

On the way back from Rotorua we stayed in the town of Thames. Well, ‘ole nostalgic Rob wanted to stay at the Brian Boru Hotel which had been advertised as “ an eye pleasing colonial hotel built in 1868 offering a wide range of rooms…plus an attractive old-fashioned dining room, comfortable lounge and plenty of old-time atmosphere.” Oh my gosh!!!!! The lobby and the restaurant were magnificent. He looked at these areas and booked a room (R: I actually looked in a room also). Well, up the stairs we go and the magnificence ended. One little lock on the door, no glasses, one recently used towel, curtain blowing out the window, saggy bed, who knows about the history of the bedspread, and no wastebasket. We asked at the desk for a wastebasket and glasses. We got a plastic bag and two beer glasses. And a fresh towel.

We took a drive along the coastal road leading to the town of Coromandel (R: had to get Susie away from the hotel for a while). The towns and villages along the route are backed by the Coromandel Range and it is a beautiful locale (read in paper later that this is one of hottest real estate areas in the country). We returned to Thames and walked through the town, ate at a CHINESE restaurant (yes, they are EVERYWHERE), and went to the movie to see “The Whale Rider” which is about the Maori tradition in New Zealand. We were really glad that we had seen the presentation the night before because it helped us understand the movie. Back at our historic room, at 3:30 a.m., I said to Rob, “We are out of here.” We could not get into our townhouse until 4:00 p.m., and Auckland was a two hour drive a way, but I didn’t care. I had had enough nostalgia for one night. And—you want to know the honest truth? Right across the parking lot was a modern day replica of this wonderful hotel with GORGEOUS facilities. The sacrifices I make for this man!!!!!!! (R: But it cost twice as much and had no historical significance.) We drove back to Auckland, had breakfast, then called our landlord and made arrangements to move into our townhouse early.

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Love to you all.
Susie and Rob

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