Andrew got a stretched limo again!

Ki-Ora!

No, not that orange drink you get in cinemas. Ki-ora is g'day in Maori. To be said with great gusto whenever you meet.

We've arrived in Aukland and been short changed by the time zones yet again. Another short day. We have a hotel in the middle of Aukland city. The most suprising thing is the amount of Asians in the city. Its almost like Singapore in this area. So we should get some good Asian cooking round here.

15th July.

Aukland is like a miniature version of Sydney. It is built on a harbour, has a harbour bridge and a sky tower. Auklands sky tower is taller than Syndney's which makes it the tallest structure in the southern hemisphere - much to the annoyance of Sydney. This tower benefits from glass bottomed viewing. You can stand on glass panels and worry about the tensile strength of toughened glass....

From the top of Aukland's tower, you can see for miles, across the bays, across the islands and inlets, and to the distant mountains. This is a land that has not yet been tamed. It has the same feel as Sydney, with perhaps a bit of San Francisco thrown in. There are some steep sloping streets down to the harbour. It is cold though. This is winter, and not tropical. Winter draws on.

We realise that we've made a slight miscalculation in scale. The volcanoes and caves that we wanted to see are 3-4 hours drive from here. Not a day trip at all. So, we organise ourselves a car and plan a two day excursion to the volcanic area.

Before we left, we went to a buffet style Chinese restaurant - velly cheap before 7:30. It was down some steps and through some doors, which meant you where past the point of no return if it turned out to be awefull in side. It wasn't, but we were early and so no one else was there. The food they had laid on was wonderfull. Great dishes full of some recognisable Chinese fayre, and many other treats as well. By the time we had eaten all we could eat, it was filling up fast. The restaurateur genuinely thanked us for attracting all these new customers - to top it all, it was probably the cheapest restaurant we had eaten at yet.

16th July

Got up early to pick up our hire car and take the 4 hour drive over to Rotorua, the volcanic area. Stopped off for breakfast at a place called Bombay PukeHole or something similar.

The back country in NewZealnd sometimes reminds us of Wales and sometimes of tropical rainforest. In places, there are some wonderfull panoramic views, and thick forests, then you turn a corner and find someone has just felled a whole forest, and the scenery turns back into open sheep pastureland. It somehow looks raw, prehistoric and unfinished. The Tree-ferns add to the effect. Its almost like round the next corner a triceratops will be blocking the road.

I wonder why the locals insist on felling all their trees to make their wooden clapboard bungaloes, when they have so much local stone available. I long to see a two storey Welsh stone cottage with slate roof, one that seems to grow out of the countryside and has been there forever. These houses are brightly coloured and, somehow look temporary and tatty even when not very old. They have as much sympathy with these surroundings as a caravan park!

Dont get me going about town planning. Hamilton. Quit a small place on the map, but it takes an hour to drive through. The industrial estates, retail stores and every thing else seems to be strung out along the main round, all with billboards and advertising cluttering everything. Its a mess. Give someone all this wide open space and they just fill it up with clutter.

We finally arrive in Rotorua. This place stinks. It really does. Its pouring with rain, and the fog seems to be hanging over the mountains. But much of the fog isn't fog at all. Its steam rising from the ground! These are sulphurous volcanic vents. Even the gardens of private houses smoke.

An old geyser spouts off here every few minutes. We ignore him and his rantings and instead make our way over to the volcanic mud pools and vents. There is steam everywhere, and it seems we cant get away from the stench of sulphur - rotten eggs (Or the smell of old farts - similar to the veteran hocky playing kind). This is a alien landscape. Bubbling mud, sulphurous yellow rocks, spouts of steam and that horrible stench. Worth driving all this way for. Andrew and especially David are very much impressed - NOT. We came all this way for this smell!?

Smelly place done, we have the remainder of an afternoon to kill. Its pouring with rain and the mountains are thick with fog. So, what do you do? Yes, do a tobogan/luge ride down the mountain. Its down to just me and Andrew now to brave the elements - Sue and David chicken out. First you get a cable car to the top. We cant see anything from the cable cars because of the rain on the outside of the windows and the condensation on the inside. This place is damp, we are damp and about to get damper. At the top you put on a crash helmet and take to your tobogan. This is a three wheeled sledge thing that you launch down concrete tracks down the mountain. It has steering and breaks, but its as fast as you dare let it go. After the second run, we are soaked through our clothes, through our skin and into our very bones but still; grinning. We should have this in England - but maybe when its a bit drier!

On the way back down in the cable car, I realise that I have left all my spare clothes back in Aukland. I wonder if I can get my jeans and shoes into the microwave to dry them out and what it would do to them? No need, theres a clothes drier at the hotel. Just enough time to get them dry before our next mini-adventure,

That evening, we are going to do the Mauri cultural heritage bit, followed by some nosh. Every one we spoke to recommended this trip. Well, the 'experience' started in the coach. The Mauri bus driver was Mr Warm-up man himself. He got us all Ki-Ora-ing each other, speaking Mauri , and introducing our selves, and generally getting into the spirit of the evening. Arriving at the Mauri 'village', the elected chiefs of each coach where challenged by a fearsome Mauri warrior, wide eyed, shaking a spear and sticking out his tongue. We where instructed beforehand not to laugh or stick our tongues out back at him. After a show of Mauri dancing and singing, including the Haka, we where to have a traditional Mauri feast. This was prepared many hours previously by layering wrapped food on hot stones in a pit. Meat first then vegtables on top. Unfortunately, Mauri and western culture have been intertwined for many years, centuries even. What Mauri's like to eat now has come to resemble a traditional British Sunday lunch! Chicken, Pork and beef, potatoes, carrots, stuffing and even cranberry jelly! All very nice, but somehow not what we where expecting. The coach trip back was even nuttier than before. To the tune of 'she'll be coming round the mountain when she comes', the coach driver went round and round and round the roundabouts, asking to keep an eye out for any policemen! This bloke was a complete headcase.

The 'Sunday Lunch' experience has made me realise that the world we are going round is all ex-British colonies. The influence of the British is quiet amazing. The early settlers, people who left everything to colonise these places, must have been either very brave, very stupid or very badly off back home. So far, every country has had English as their main language, drive on the left and have the queens head on their money. Its all very civilising from a tourist's point of view and makes the world seem a very small place, but somehow homogenises everything.

17th July

Today the 'Black Labyrinth' tour. We tavelled across country to the Waitamo area - realy...Waitamo was its name. This place had some deep water filled caves and potholes. We where taking the rubber ring tour. We all kitted up in wet suits, silly shorts and white wellies. What a sight. Lucky its dark down there. We then chose our rubber ring and set out. First we had to prove ourselves. We had to launch off a 8 foot high platform, backwards, with rubber ring attached to bum, into a murky cold and wet river. This was just a practice for what was ahead. We all made it and paddled ashore. The minibus then took us up to the pothole entrance. I'm not calling it a cave entrance as it was barely a manhole in the ground. We switched on our helmet lamps and clambered through the cave system. Stalactites hang down, and a stream became a river as we clambered downwards. We stooped in a cavern barely head height and switched off our lights. As our eyes got used to the dark, blue/green glow worms appeared on the ceiling. These are the laval stage of a fly. They look like small bits of slime or snot. Bigger pieces of snot eat the smaller ones. They catch flies by hanging down a string of mucus from the cave ceiling. We had come down here to look at bogies! Further down, the river swelled and we took to our rubber rings. The rain meant that in places the water was just a few inches from the roof, just enough room to duck through and pull our rings after us. A few waterfalls meant we had to do the jumping backwards trick again, but this time into the dark. The river and the cave widened and heightened, and we floated down stream on our backs. We switched our lights out again and the whole roof of the cave glowed with a constellation of glow-worms. WOW. Lying on your back, on a rubber ring a few hundred feet underground and watching the stars. I'm sure no dope head had a trip like this!

Emerging out of the cave we jumped back into the river to float back to the point where we did our first test jump. We were old hands by now. Some of us tried some fancy tricks off the platform this time, but only the guides seemed to be able to a 360 and land in the ring. Grins wide across our stupid faces, we set back to get out of this clobber and partake of the hot shower, bagel and hot soup that was all part of the package. Somehow it seemed just right

One of our potholing party was from Reading, doing the globe from the other direction - taking 6 months to do it.

I think that I've concluded that either you visit Newzealand for just a few days and do the major sights, or you need to tour round for a month and get under the skin of the people and the country. It definitely has an inferiority complex. It feels a bit like a minor part of Australia, which itself feels disconnected from the rest of the world. Rugby, sheep and tractors seem to be the main interest round here. That and extreme sports. Every where you can bungie jump, roll down mountains in plastic balls, Skydive, 'static' freefall over a fan, jet boat, abseiling, caving, potholing, white water rafting, black water rafting, every thing. ...

New Zealand is gripped by Rugby feavour as the big Ausi vs All Blacks part of the tri-nations championship is on, the Pacific Islanders being the third country in the tournament.

18th July

Fly out to Fiji

Getting out of New Zealand was a bind. First of all we had to pay $25 to get out, then fill in a form - four times, then join a huge queue thorugh passport control. I think they want to force people to stay.

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