We departed Tongariro Lodge to push ever northward.  We had a really lovely stay there — the staff so very nice and helpful — but the operation about as organized as a Florentine train station.  At breakfast this dreary, Bach, dirge-like sonata played on repeat accidentally.  Just funny little stuff like that.   

We traveled over to Taupo, and found ourselves in a cute beach community in the middle of the country.  Reminded me so much of Nags Head. People swam in the lake, and I wanted to yell, “You’re swimming in a freakin’ caldera!”  The natives seem at peace the beautiful, massive lake will one day kill us all. 

Huka Falls is close to Taupo, so we stopped.  Water drains from Lake Taupo and feeds several hydroelectric plants downriver.  This system of plants accounts for 15% on New Zealand’s power.  The water flowed through a channel in the rock, which looks fun to raft but I don’t think anyone does.  

Between the jet boats, regular boats, helicopters, and crush of people it was difficult to contemplate the majesty of it all.  Nature can so easily be drowned out by humans.  

A ten minute drive away, we heard about a dam that does a controlled release at noon.  I just had to see that.  We stood on a bridge overlooking a dry river valley with steep rocks up either side.  Small, not very wide.  After a series of extremely high pitched shrieks at five, two, and one minute, the flood gates opened.  I took time lapse photos of the event, which I thought was totally badass.  It’s not often one sees a flash flood fill up a small river valley.  Many watched with us.  

Fifteen minutes later, the gates shut and water drained out, as if it never happened.  

Our next stop was Hell’s Gate Thermal Wonderland, a place which celebrated 1960s wood panel as if peak interior decor had been reached and there was no reason to change.  We took a tour of the well-manicured park, pictures of which are below.  They created a 3 km trail that “safely” navigated in-between the pools of hot mud, gas, and boiling water.  I really don’t think anyone is truly safe in this place.  The crust here is just so thin, by some estimates only 2km below our feet resided tall magma spikes, which create this racket (in more ways than one).

After our tour (with RBD fully freaked out), we started the mud bath portion of our stay here at Hell’s Gate Thermal Wonderland.  Promises were made about the healing powers of mud.  Skin rejuvenation, anti-acne, anti-bacterial (which doesn’t even make sense), soul-healing, etc.  I am reminded of a quote from my favorite Australian, “You know what they call alternative medicine that works?  Medicine.”

We all sat with mud everywhere in the pool, but only for twenty minutes due to unspecified “safety reasons.”  Really I think they meant to say, “crowd control.”  RBD stayed in a little longer, because she’s rebellious like that.  After the mud portion, you bathed and sat in the hot pools to cleanse your pores, or something.

At some point the staff wheeled in giant containers of mud.  The pools were running low.  I wondered where you source industrial-sized buckets of super-fine silt.  Then I thought that I didn’t want to know.   

Since towels were $5 extra, I sat in the changing room cold, muddy, and wreaking of sulfur.  Let’s just pause here a moment to say a few things. 

One, include towels in the price of admission!  It’s not like getting wet here is optional.  Secondly, if we were meant to enjoy sulfur, it would smell like lavender, or vanilla cream, or fresh bread, or babies.  It doesn’t, it smells like rotten eggs (or worse).  And now, so did I.  

RBD booked massages after, which turns out to be just the thing after bathing in warm diesel fuel.  The masseuses, who live here in Rotorua, were super nice.  As usual, we got to chatting about politics.  It occurred to me this topic might not be a great de-stressor.

Rotorua is a cute town, though the entire area smells like sulfur.  It wafts around in invisible clouds and just smacks you in the face.  It is unrelentingly terrible.

Still, if you don’t mind the omnipresent odor, there is lots to do here.  We will have done none of it.  Also, my eyes burn.

I’m off to meet with a colleague who does lighting in Auckland.  Then we drive to Auckland for the last stop on our tour of this beautiful country.