Sunday, 22 November 2009

Shipwrecked!

It's been such a long time since we've updated this blog that it feels strange to be starting off by writing about our last few days in New Zealand while I'm sitting on a beach waiting to leave Fiji, but I will try my best to cast my mind back to over a week ago.


We left Rotarua and drove to Hobbiton and as I expected you couldn't see very much unless you paid to go on a guided tour. In fairness to the owners of the farm they were really milking the Lord of the Rings thing. They were attempting to charge about £30 to allow you to go to the middle of the farm where the film set is. That wouldn't have been that bad had the place still looked like it did when they made the film, but in actual fact, Hobbiton is now not much more than a few large holes in the hills covered by white bits of MDF. All the accessories that were used in the film to make this place look like a Hobbit Village have gone back with the film crew themselves. We decided it really wasn't worth the money to go and look at some holes in the ground and we drove on to our next destination.


Whangamata was our next port of call and there we found, as expected, a beautiful surfing beach. The town centre seemed lovely as well with loads of surf shops and bars, but there was just one odd thing and that was that on this Wednesday afternoon, everything was closed. It took us a long time to find out that we were there slightly out of season and so it seems no-one bothers to work unless there's a whole heap of tourists to cater for. We decided that we were going to spend the night at the side of a road here as it was a safe little town and it seemed that's that what everyone else was doing. We'd been determined to spend at least one night in the traditional backpacker way! But as it hit 5pm and we had nothing to do, no bar to go to, no power to watch a film on the laptop, no light to read a book and conversation ran out a long time ago, we decided to move on to the next big town in the hope that there would be more to do there.


So we drove to Thames in the rain and the fog through the mountains (it wasn't a nice drive) and we saw that it was a nice little old mining town, but again, there was nothing really happening, In the guide book it had said there was a hostel that had unpowered sites outside for hardly any money so we thought we'd check that out before deciding whether to stay at the side of the road or not here. The hostel, it turned out, only rented out it's sites in peak season and so we would have to go out of town to the only campsite there was (although I don't think that's strictly true, I think the owner of the hostel had a deal with the campsite we stayed at!). The hostel woman told me that it was illegal to camp at the site of the road there and we would get charged $80 if we tried. So, now it seemed we had no choice and it was getting dark so we went up to the campsite she had suggested. Along the way we got stopped at a road block where they were breathalising everyone so that was a bit exciting as we'd never been breathalysed before. It was a bit of a dump and totally overpriced but we parked up anyway, annoyed that we had even come to Thames. We spent the evening in the games room watching rubbish on TV, so it was a bit of a wasted evening. I think it's fair to say that we felt the last week in New Zealand was a bit of a waste of time. We'd seen all we wanted to see and every day cost us so much money that we began to really resent the place.


The next morning we quickly wandered through the town of Thames and then, having seen nothing that interested us, we drove on through Auckland and over to a secluded little beach town called Piha. Driving through Auckland was a shock to the system to be on roads with more than one lane, sometimes even three lanes! But before we knew it we were back on single track windy roads through the mountains to Piha. Piha is about half an hour away from anywhere and is a beautiful little beach. We parked in a lovely and really cheap campsite and went for a wander on the beach. It was really lovely until we began walking back. At the other side of the beach was a car park and a take away hut and all around it were kids. As we walked through them I realised they were all drinking and getting rowdy and I heard one shouting at another that he was going to 'kick his head in'. I thought they were just mates all messing around, but Kev had seen that it was a group of skin head kids who were arguing with a bunch of Mauri kids. We walked through and said to each other how horrible and intimidating it was to walk through them. Once we were a fair distance away we looked back and things had really kicked off there. The kids were fighting really badly and smacking each other with cricket bats – it was the most horrible thing I've ever seen. We hurriedly walked back to our campsite and there I decided I really didn't want to stay in this place anymore. This place was so tiny that it was the kind of village that don't have police, the community themselves do what they need. For example, when we arrived we read the information from the campsite and it said that if you hear a siren then it means that there has been a fire or an accident or something and it's a call for all the local volunteers to meet and sort it out. So, when we saw this fight it really dawned on me that we were a long way from any type of police and all of a sudden, I really didn't feel safe there even though we were now no-where near the fighting.


It took a long time, but Kev calmed me down and I agreed to stay in the campsite, but I wasn't going out of the campsite. It's funny because this is such a quiet, sleepy little place where nothing usually happens, so it was just really really bad luck that we saw that fight. I saw a police car go by and realised that the locals had called the nearest police and that made me feel a bit better. We went to the local shop and were chatting to the owner who told us that the school exams had just finished and all the kids from Auckland had come to Piha beach to get drunk. He said it happened every year but that they always leave by the end of the afternoon and no-one in Piha allows them to stay the night there. He assured me that Piha was an incredibly safe place to stay and that calmed me down a lot. He pointed us in the direction of the local members bar and so we headed there to have a drink on the balcony overlooking the beach (but a long way from the beach front, thank goodness!) and some really great food. It was a nice bar and at first the owner had been reluctant to let us in because he thought we might be from some hotel organisation who were clamping down on members bars who allow non members in. But we convinced him that we were not there to catch him out and he signed us in! By the evening I could tell that Piha was a lovely community where everyone knew each other and we did have a good night. Not sure I'd go there again though and by now I was so ready to leave New Zealand and still nothing had managed to change my mind – it's a nice place and I'm glad I've been, but I don't think I'll be going back in a hurry.


The next morning we drove to Auckland and dropped off our camper van. It was a sad moment but Kev took it hard and walked around in silence for most of the day with the key chain from the camper van round his neck (minus the van key). Honestly, you'd have thought Rehab was a person the amount he mourned the loss! We walked up to our hostel which was a huge place on the main street in Auckland centre. It was hard to get used to being in a really big city and there we saw homeless people and beggars and crowds and crowds of people which was something we had not seen for a month- it was a little overwhelming at first and we just wanted to get to the hostel and chill out. But the hostel was one like the one in Sydney – huge and full of really annoying travellers who are really just doing a typical like Spanish 18 to 30s holiday, but for a much longer time and in countries that are a bit further away! (Oh, man, I just suddenly realised that I couldn't go on a 18 to 30s holiday now, even if I wanted to, which I don't, so just as well!)


So anyway, we went for a wander to the Skytower, which isn't really that impressive at all, and then to the harbour, which is really lovely actually. Then we headed back to the hostel where we upgraded our room to an en-suite with a TV and where we chilled out with a take-away for the rest of the evening. It was nice to shut the door to the chaos of the 18-30s crowd although it was slightly annoying every time a voice came over the tanoy into our room to tell us that there were free drinks and the bar, or a call to join the Jeigermeister train, or some other load of rubbish that we really didn't want to go and do!


The next morning we got up really late because we figured the later we got up the shorter the day would be – we really were ready to leave New Zealand. We walked to the big park and then along to the harbour again and then we went to the skytower to watch the sky jumpers. I had considered doing the sky jump which a a base jump from the top of the sky tower, but when I saw people doing it it looked a bit tame. It lasts for like 11 seconds and no-one was screaming when they did it or anything. If people aren't screaming then I figured it's not worth doing!! I looked into the price just on the off chance that it was really cheap and then I'd do it, but was horrified to find out that it was about $200 or something like that, for an 11 second thrill that wouldn't even make you scream, I couldn't believe it and this just made me resent New Zealand even more. Honestly, that place has realised that they've been given the title of Adrenaline Capital and have milked it till it bleeds! Everything you want to do, everywhere you want to go, anything you want to see...it's get your wallet out time and everything is just a rip off – although there are a few exceptions – sky diving was cheap and sledging and kayaking was value for money – but that's it.


That evening we went to the cinema because Kev was really missing films and we watched 2012. It's a ridiculous film but easy to watch and fairly entertaining. There were many many moment where those who were about to die would ring their family and say goodbye and as you can imagine, I balled my eyes out to each of these moments, much to Kev's amusement. It passed the time and killed our last night in New Zealand.


Next morning we were up and out of that hostel in a flash. Straight to Starbucks for a pick me up and then onto the airport bus, woo hoo, we were heading to Fiji. The flight was quick and painless and we were both so glad to be moving on.


As soon as we got off the plane the heat hit us like a brick. It was back to that humid hotness that we'd had in South East Asia, but here the airport wasn't air conditioned and I didn't hold out much hope for the rest of the country being air conditioned either! As we waited for our bags it was boiling and I did begin to appreciate the pleasant weather we had had in the north island of NZ. Slight panic when the cash points at the airport wouldn't work, but this was soon sorted when our driver stopped at an ATM in the the town, so no problems there. Getting to our hostel was easy and we rang the free phone number at the airport and the minibus was already there waiting to take us to Smuggler's Cove.


Smuggler's Cove was cheap and so I was preparing myself for the worst, but when we got there our room was fine and air conditioned – basic but absolutely fine. The bar and the pool area downstairs were lovely and we spent the evening there. Kev watched the Scotland v Fiji rugby match on the big screen while I enjoyed the local entertainment, the Fire Dance. The Fire Dance was basically a load of very muscly, very tattooed, Fijian men in nothing more than little skirts dancing around, sometimes with fire, sometimes not. It was a sight that would have pleased the most demanding of hen parties!


The next morning was an early start again and after a basic breakfast we headed outside to meet our pick up service which was going to take us to paradise. The minibus was waiting and already on board was a couple of Polish guys who were really friendly with an awesome sense of humour and a British guy – James who was a law student from Devon, incredibly well spoken and one of those guys that oozed with confidence, but in a nice way! We set off on our way to the harbour and picked up Rodney and Britany, an American couple from Colorado. We also picked up another couple, but they didn't really speak so we're not sure who they were!! We arrived at the harbour at 9am and had to wait until 10am when the boat would leave. We took some shade in a cafe, but just as we were relaxing so we were summoned onto the boat for some reason.


(Sorry, just need to interrupt this bulletin to say that it is now 1.20pm on Sunday 22nd November and while I am sitting on a beach in Fiji writing this, I am actually also just arriving in LA at this very moment – this time travel thing that is going to happen tonight is still pickling my head!!)


So we got on the boat and we sat there waiting for about an hour and a half. We were waiting for another couple that were due to arrive at 10, but they were really late so we just had to wait. There's one boat that goes to Waya island and one boat that leaves every day, so we just had to wait for them! It was really hot on the boat but it was a good chance to get to know some of the people we would be spending the next week with and we soon bonded with the gang.


Eventually the other couple arrived and we set off for the hour and a half journey into the Pacific Ocean to Waya Island and Octopus Bay Resort, part of the Yasawa group of islands. It was a bit of choppy ride but was fun and absolutely beautiful, passing by deserted islands, and over the crystal clear waters. The only down side was that having been told there was no toilet on board, of course my mind decided I needed to toilet right from the word go – typical!


As we approached the island so the staff all gathered on the beach for their daily welcoming song. We were told that when they finished singing, we would all have to shout a big 'Bula', which is 'hello'. Kev was cringing and I couldn't stop laughing, but over the next week we would come to love that welcoming song and the local customs.


We jumped out of the boat and into the water and then headed to the bar area to be welcomed onto the island. Walu is a huge island and over the hills there are 4 villages with around 200 people living in each. Me and Kev, I'm ashamed to say, didn't venture off the resort once and so we didn't actually see any of these local villages (apart from a long distance view from the boat). We had always booked this week in Fiji as a complete break from travelling and a time to completely relax and do nothing, and I can honestly say that for 5 days on the island, that's exactly what we did.


We collected the keys to our Beach front Bure and we went down to check out our new home. It was a traditional thatched cottage with an outdoor shower and a patio and a hammock under the shade of the trees in the garden. We didn't use the hammock much though to be honest because getting into it was like an act of contortion, first sitting, then reaching back with both arms and swinging your legs round to balance it – I fell out of it on more than one occassion! Our garden led onto the beach where we had our own private area and loungers along the water. There's a huge reef there and so it's a perfect place for snorkelling and so we snorkelled just about every day. The water was so clear and there were such amazing fish in there, it was great.


Once our bags had been delivered to our Bure, Bure 9, it was time for lunch. I loved the routine in this resort – every day you got up at 9 for breakfast, you waited to hear the blowing of the shell at 12.30 which signalled the beginning of lunch and then at 7.30 again, the shell siren would go and it was time to settle down for dinner. After dinner, the staff would tell you what activities were happening that night and the following day and you could chose to participate or not. Meals were served on large tables and so we got to meet so many people while we were there and it was nice to head over to lunch and see people that you knew. I'd missed seeing people that I knew.


It wasn't long before we were settling into 'Fiji Time' which is basically a time where nothing gets done! There was a few new Bure's being built on the island but every day me and Kev laughed at the fact that the builders never appear to be doing anything but sitting around – it's so hot here though that I can see why. But it's not an uncomfortable heat on the islands because there's such a breeze.


We'd been told to bring snacks with us to the island because some reviews of Octopus said that the food was horrible. But that was just a lie. The food there was amazing and as everything was all inclusive it was nice to not have to worry about paying for things. We ate a lot of Walu which is the local fish and that is delicious – I'm going to keep my eye out for it at home but I'm not sure if it is sold back home. Every day the meals were amazing, from the omelettes at lunch to the buffets or steaks for dinner – just awesome – ah, my mouth is watering just thinking about it!


The days were the same every day, breakfast, snorkel/ read book, lunch, snorkel, dinner, beer. I thought I would get bored but I loved the routine (routine fits in with my organised personality) and I loved having time to just sit and read and to not have to go and look at things or experience things – I could just sit – forced relaxation and I loved it. Kev was a bit bored of sitting and doing nothing by the end but he still enjoyed it all the same. Every day there were activities on offer but we chose not to do any of them and by the end of the week we couldn't believe we had to go back to doing things as wed got so lethargic.


Each evening was different however and the first night was our welcoming ceremony where the elders of the village welcome you to their island. Basically, Waya island is still a very traditional island, where the villagers still speak Fijian (English is the first language on the mainland) and the owner of the resort (a guy from New Zealand) had to work miracles to get the elders to agree to have the resort there in the first place. The resort provides a lot of money for a boarding school on the island so the children benefit and as far as we could work out, that's why the elders agreed to let the resort go ahead. We were so glad we chose to stay at Octopus because we met a lot of people who were island hopping during their time in Fiji and without fail, every single on said Octopus was by far the nicest resort.


So the welcoming ceremony was a little scary. You sit on a mat with the elders of the village and they mix together a huge bowl of Kava, which is the local drink. I had read before we came that Kava was hallucinogenic and I was not going to have any of that stuff. It freaked me out slightly that I was an hour and a half away from any medical facilities anyway and I wasn't about to try hallucinogenic stuff far out in the Pacific Ocean. I'd gone my whole life avoiding any sort of peer pressure when it came to drugs and I was not about to give in now!! So as we sat on the mat I was glaring at Kevin and trying to convey that I was not happy about this, not happy at all.


It all turned out fine in the end though as I found out that the Kava at the welcoming ceremony is a type of tourist Kava that isn't hallucinogenic after all – in fact, it doesn't do anything at all except taste really bad and it makes your tongue go numb for about a minute. So the elders play a song and then do some chanting and then we all clap a few times and then a cup of Kava is passed to each person in turn. Even though I knew we weren't drinking the real stuff, ever cautious me still asked the elder to tip away half of my cup full, I was taking no chances! And I point blankly refused to drink the second, which probably offended them in all sorts of cultural ways, but I felt that I had done my bit already by sipping the first cup. Kava looks like muddy water and tastes pretty much the same, so it's not something I'd recommend. I didn't drink any alcohol that night as I was paranoid that mixing alcohol and this tourist kava would do me some damage (it really was just mud and water to be honest and so I was being totally ridiculous, but you can never be too careful).


That night was crab racing night and after dinner we were all told to go over to the crab master and pick our crabs. I was excited about this sport until I realised that pick your crab literally meant pick up your crab! Foolishly I had burdened Kev with my bottle of water and his beer so it was down to me to pick up the little nipping bugs. On the floor were tens of little hermit crabs, poor little things, and surrounding them were all of us tourists trying to sus out which one had the longest legs, or which one had the lightest shell, or which one was a suppressed Olympic gold medallist! I picked my two based on which ones looked like they had the smallest nippers! I picked up my guys by the shell and hurried over to the entry table, getting faster with every nip of my fingers. I pushed in the queue and dropped my crabs on the table as the crab master painted a tipex number on their back (they do crab racing night twice a week at Octopus, so it's not unusual to see hermit crabs with numbers on their backs strolling across the beach). The crabs were taken to the centre of a circle in the sand and we all gathered round as they raced to the outer edge of the circle. My crabs got through to the final, but alas, they were pipped at the post by a tiny little thing who had defied all odds – using his tiny legs to out race his larger oppenents, who'd have thought it eh!


It had been a tiring day and so we had an early night that night. It was hard to get used to sleeping next to the sea, which was surprisingly loud, and with no air conditioning.


The next night was International Volleyball night where they encouraged the tourists to take on the locals on the volleyball court. Having watched the locals play there was no point in us joining in, so we spent the evening chatting to various people. It was a good night and we ended up staying up pretty late.


The night after that was games night and the night after that was back to crab racing. That afternoon, me and Kev had found a couple of crabs by our Bure and we were convinced they wanted to run for us. We made them a sandy little home in an old plastic bottle and took them to dinner with us that night. When the crab master gave us number 29 and 30 (our ages) I was convinced these guys were going to win – but number 29 (Krabi to us) was knocked out in the semi final and number 30 (Turtle to us), well, I didn't even see him in the race, in fact, I didn't see him again until the next morning when I saw him walking along the beach – what are the chances of that, I think he must have got lost on the track.


After crab racing we decided to play some volleyball. It was really good fun, although the bruises on my arms have yet to go down – it's a tough ball. Playing volleyball was a good way to meet people and we got chatting to a couple from Scotland, the guy was from Glasgow but they both now lived in Edinburgh, just round the corner from where we used to live. They were leaving the next day but they're going to be on our flight to LA tonight. We also met the Doctor on the island. Jimmy was from Texas and his girlfriend was an investment banker called Cathy! So we got chatting to Jimmy first who turned out to like alcohol a lot! We ended up going back to Jimmy and Cathy's place where they had a free bar. Basically, these guys had hired a place called Poppy's lodge which was just next to the bar and on the beach. It was a three bedroom villa with air conditioning, free bar to the value of $2000 FJD (about £700), satellite TV, everything – it was luxury. They had hired the lot but there was only those two staying there so they invited us to stay in one of the spare rooms for the night. Kev refused to believe they had the whole place to themselves and so wasn't sure about using the spare room, but I insisted! Jimmy and Cathy were really nice guys and now I want to go to Texas even more when we get to the states.


The night after that was our last night and it was Friday night, Fiji night. Every Friday, the villagers come to Octopus to perform a few traditional dances for us and to put on a huge Fijian buffet dinner. The dances they put on were really awesome and their singing was amazing. We found it funny because when the owner announced the dances he said that these guys are not professionals, just people who are really proud of their culture and that they're the plumbers, the builders, the waiters.....etc.... it made us laugh to think of tradespeople in the UK getting up in a grass skirt and singing and dancing, it just wouldn't happen! We cringed a bit when we realised we had to participate in a few dances, but it turned out to just be a kind of conga thing around the pool which wasn't too cringe-worthy. Then we all had to stand around the pool where each of the local villagers came round and shook each of our hands and said thank you. The shaking of hands and thanking went on for ages, there were a lot of villagers, and I had to fight to hold back the laughter because in my head it was the most surreal thing. As each villager shook my hand and said thank you, I would say thank you, but at the same time I could hear Kev on one side of me repeatedly saying thank you and Cathy on the other side of me saying thank you and it just seemed like a bonkers situation to be in. but in all seriousness, it was really touching actually and it was really good to meet the locals properly.


We sat down for our Fijian dinner and we had a great table for the last meal. Me, Kev, Cathy, Jimmy, Rodney and Britany (our original gang members and probably the people we got to know best during our time there, really really nice couple) and another couple who had just arrived who were from the UK.


The food was absolutely amazing, although we weren't too sure about the huge fish head that appeared in the middle of it all. The fish was a Miti fish and it had huge teeth and eyes that stared up at us. Me and Cathy were the first to get in there and dig out a bit of the meat, but even for a fish lover like me, this was a bit too fishy. I don't know if it was the fact that the eyes and the teeth were looking at me as I ate it's body, but no, we didn't like that fish.


After dinner the locals all sat around their Kava bowls and drank, lots.... the tourists were welcome to join them but this time it wasn't 'tourist Kava', but the real stuff. We gave it a miss and stayed at our table chatting, although the British couple headed over. Later we saw everyone slumped around the Kava bowls, smiling and looking a bit spaced out! We met a great couple from San Fran called Nate and Janice and Janice had given about 20 cups of Kava a try - she giggled a lot!


We didn't stay up too late that night, I think me, Kev, Jimmy and Cathy had outdone ourselves the night before – although poor Rodney was gutted he hadn't stayed up with us the night before and he was ready to party!


The last morning we went for one last snorkel and the water was perfectly clear so it was a great day for it. I was really enjoying it until I saw one of those huge Miti fish that we had eaten last night – I saw the size on it's teeth again and was paranoid that he knew I had eaten his friend the night before, so I headed in to the shallower water. There I saw a lovely Picasso fish and reached out to it (not to touch it you understand, just to reach out for some weird reason), anyway, I don't think he liked that and he darted straight for my face. That freaked me out and even though the fish was the size of a Captain Birdseye Fishfinger I didn't like seeing something coming straight for me. I swiftly turned around and then felt it bashing away at my flippers. I knew it was time to leave and I swam to shore. Kev came into shore and told me that the fish had probably laid some eggs near where I was swimming and that I just needed to avoid that bit of the reef. So we decided to go back out, but then every time I saw a Picasso fish I got a bit scared and Kev said that I kind of ruined the relaxing snorkel because all he could hear was me screaming underwater whenever a fish came anywhere near me. I now go back to my original view that fish are for eating and not for swimming with.


After lunch the boat arrived and we were called to board. It was sad to say goodbye and if there had been a hospital for emergencies on that island, I think I could have stayed there forever. The boat trip back was super choppy and Rodney managed to get totally soaked as the waves came over the boat and landed directly on him every time. It was good fun though and I didn't get sea sick, woo hoo! At the harbour our mini bus picked us up and dropped us back at Smuggler's Cove. Smuggler's Cove had been lovely on the first night, but now, compared to Octopus, it didn't seem quite as lovely! We went down to the bar for a short while and then got an early night.


This morning we had to check out by 10am but were able to leave our bags in the luggage room and have been able to sit in the shade by the beach and the swimming pool for the day. The beach here is pretty horrible and the sea isn't even clear so it's not that nice. It's cheap here too and there are a lot of Brits Abroad type people staying here for their whole holiday – it's a good place to come just for one night while you're waiting to get to an island, but unless you want to spend your time in Fiji in horrible water, on a dirty looking beach, surrounded by red raw tourists oiling themselves up and drinking cocktails then I would avoid this place for the long term stays.

We'll be heading to the airport about 6pm and there we should meet up with the Scottish guys and Jimmy and Cathy who are also on our flight to LA. They're getting a helicopter out of Octopus today and going straight to the airport, but we're looking forward to seeing them at the airport – it's so nice to see people you know.


So for now it's over and out from Fiji. Apologies for this blog not being too entertaining, I don't think I'm on form today and we've not done much over the last week or so to be entertaining about. I promise my next instalment will be more exciting. We get on our flight at 11pm tonight and arrive in LA at 1pm this afternoon (so as I say, I'm already there!).


And in fact I am already there because I didn't get round to uploading that blog while I was in Fiji afterall. As soon as I had finished writing the above, the lovely Russ and Carole from York (who we had met on Octopus Resort) turned up in the Smuggler's Cove beer garden. We ended up spending the afternoon chatting with them before getting a taxi to the airport and dropping Russ and Carole off at their hotel along the way. The airport was rammed and despite us turning up 4 hours before our flight we had to stand in a massive long queue. Then at 11 O'Clock we set off and the next 10 hours were pretty horrible. The guy infront of me was so big that when he leaned back in this chair infront of me it almost crushed me. Then the food came and when I put my drink of my tray, because the beast infront was making my tray slope down, my drink fell off into my lap so I spent the next ten hours in soggy trousers feeling like I'd wet myself! The movies played automatically so by the time we'd finished our meal we'd missed the start of the film and the plane landed before I got to see the end too so I only saw half of GI Joes (that was the best of a seriously bad bunch of film choices) and to top it all, it was probably the most turbulent flight I've ever been on! We were glad to get off, but had been warned about how bad LA airport was. Those warnings were true and it was the most choatic airport arrivals area we've ever seen. We got a shuttle bus to the hire car place and there the lady told us there was going to be a problem because I'd put Kev down as the main driver yet I was using my card to pay for it. She told me I needed to remember that ...'In America, nothing is transferable! Blah blah blah....' I really couldn't work out what the big deal was, but it got sorted and at first I thought the lady behind the counter was being rude when she said 'You're really starting to annoy me!', but then I realised that's their odd little sense of humour here. It turned out the lady behind the counter was actually really nice and gave us an upgraded car anyway!


Kev had his first experience driving on the other side of the road on a 6 lane freeway through the centre of LA which was trial by fire, but he did good and we made it to our hotel. The hotel is in Santa Monica and is pretty nice actually and it's so great to have a huge TV again with more than 3 channels. We popped out to try and find a Wallmart as we need to buy a Sat Nav but by the time we found the Walmart it was getting dark and I didn't want to get out of the car – America looks scary at night. So we drove back to the hotel, picked up a Wendy's take away and now we're going to watch TV all night and recover from what has been the longest Sunday 22nd November ever!


The lap top is now fixed and we're hoping to have free wi fi in a lot of places in America so hopefully we'll get to skype you all soon.

xxx


Tuesday, 10 November 2009

In Luge





Thermal Wonderland







Huka Falls

Sledging Your Bets!

Kev woke up the morning after the Tongariro crossing with no aching bones, no sore feet, no nothing!! So there went my second lazy day by the pool!! Deep down I was thinking, surely he's going to be in pain after that marathon and he's going to want to stay in Taupo another night just chilling by the pool – but no! So before I knew it we were off! We packed up the van and drove to Huka Falls for a quick sight seeing stop. They were actually way more impressive than I thought they were going to be. I remember when I went to Niagra Falls in Canada, I thought to myself, hmm, it's nice, but it's just a whole heap of water falling off a cliff. So, you can imagine that I wasn't holding out too much hope for New Zealand's Huka Falls. But I was wrong. Huka Falls are awesome. They're not high like Niagra, but the amount of water that is squishing itself through the small valley is amazing and I couldn't help but be in awe of it, I could have gazed at it for hours to be honest! The power of the water is so obvious and the turquoise blue water gets transformed into a white froth as it lands in the machine machine like pit at the bottom. It really makes you appreciate the power of the water there, much more than when I was in Canada to be honest – sounds silly, I know!

After Huka Falls we went to Craters of the Moon, on the outskirts of Taupo. It was cheap to get in and it was basically a wooden path around a thermal area. There were strict warning to keep on the path in case you burnt your feet. We wandered around the steaming pit of craters and it was really fascinating ,but the weather was getting warmer and being surrounded by all that steam was making me too hot for my liking. I kept saying to Kev, 'are you're feet boiling', because mine were and it was only afterwards that I realised I was burning the back of my legs as we walked round as I was wearing a skirt and the stupid natural thermal heat from the ground was taking it's vengeance out on my poor little milk bottle legs! It was OK though, because as soon as we were back in the van I could see the red rash appearing on my legs and I caught it in time, chucked on some trousers and a whole ton of Sudacrem (thanks for the tip Matthew about bring that with us, turns out we didn't need it for the chaffing as you had suggested, but came in just as handy for burns – good times!)

Back in the van and we were heading to Rotarua but we needed to decide which of the many thermal parks to stop off at along the way – there's so many to chose from on the way to Rotarua and various people had given us their tips on which were the best. Thankfully, we stopped at Orekui Korako (now that is totally the wrong spelling but I know the place begins with an O and then a K and I can't be bothered to dig the map out to tell you the right spelling!!) and pulled up in the car park only to see that it cost a fortune and you had to get a ferry across to this 'hidden wonderland' which Lonely Planet had supposedly described as like the best place ever! Well, we'd learn along our travels that you can't trust a Lonely Planet recommendation as they love everything (I suspect they're on commission). So we decided to check out the postcards in the gift shop to make our decision whether it was worth paying the money to get the ferry across to the hidden valley. All the postcards showed the view that we could see from the gift shop anyway and a few other pics which didn't look too dissimilar to Craters of the Moon. So we decided to give this one a miss and we headed on down to Thermal Wonderland.

And we totally chose the best one to go to. Thermal Wonderland stinks, but is really worth the reasonable price they charge (cheaper than most of the others and all the locals agree it's the best by far – or fart – ha ha, that's a Rosy joke, because that's how it smells, ha, I've made myself laugh now!!) So anyway, sorry, thermal wonderland has massive clouds of sulphurous gases that engulf you and huge pools of either mud or pea green soup coloured lava. There's a huge lake in the middle where the water is bubbling at like 'I dread to think how hot that is' degrees and the gasses blowing off it (ha, blowing off!! sorry I didn't even plan that, ha– you should see the photos we took if you want to realise how much of a child I am) are like bright orange. So yeah, it's a cool place but we raced around because the smell was pretty overpowering.

Back in the van and we were off on the road to Rotarua, which I must add smells real bad, not the van, but Rotarua, although the van's starting to get a bit funky now after 3 weeks too! Anyhoo! So we arrived at the Rotarua information centre and for the first time the lady behind the desk admitted that even though we're not meant to we could get away with just camping out for free in a car park somewhere. I still wasn't keen on parking up on the side of the road, but then she directed us to a cheap backpackers hostel which has a camping area. It turned out to be the cheapest and best place we've stayed the whole trip. We get to use all the youth hostel facilities for hardly any money – needless to say we've taken advantage and stayed here three nights!

The following morning we had a much needed lie in. I was feeling like I had a cold – I've honestly never had so many colds as while I've been away travelling! So I needed a lie in and a day to chill out. We took a drive to the Agroadventures centre, which is basically just a farm that thought to itself 'hang on a minute, New Zealand is doing pretty well out of tourism and here we are just milking a few cows and sheering a few sheep – let's milk a few tourists instead and sheer their wallets by building some rubbish rides and call it Extreeeeme dude!'. We weren't totally blown, ha, sorry, away by their adrenaline attempts at rides, although it was pretty good to watch the original Zorbs – the big inflatable hamster wheels that you get into and then roll down a hill, arriving at the bottom 2 seconds later and about 50 bucks poorer! Didn't bother having a go because if money was endless then yeah you'd do all these things, but adrenaline junkies like me can get pretty poor pretty quickly here unless you reign yourself in once in a while and sometimes you've just got to think, hmm, someone here is ripping you off!

We went back into the centre of Rotarua for a wander round, but it smells bad here of sulphur, in fact the park on the way to town is just a big puddle of bubbling mud, not dissimilar to the bog of eternal stench in David Bowie's Labyrinth. And the town centre is pretty rubbish to be honest. One thing we've noticed for sure here is that crime is an issue in the north island, where in the south you begin thinking you're living in Heartbeat where there's one police man for like the whole island. You didn't even have to think about locking the van door, or leaving your valuables in the car, let alone wandering around at night – it's totally safe in the south. But here in the north, you suddenly see a lot of police and the menacing looking teenagers make it obvious that it's not as safe here as you'd like and the constant reminders to 'lock it or lose it' are a stark warning to anyone thinking the north is like the south. The people in the north aren't as friendly here, but probably because in the south it seems literally everyone works in tourism, it seems that that's all there is there (sorry, that's probably really offensive to anyone from there), so it seems that they all really like tourists, but in the north, there's a few that work in tourism and then there's the rest who just have normal jobs so not everyone here welcomes you because not everyone here's job depends on you!

So yet another early night and we had to be up early this morning for White Water River Sledging. Now, I had been really surprised when Kev said we should do this because I was thinking, Kev hates these kind of things. It turns out Kev really didn't want to do this but he knew I'd totally regretted not doing it when I had the chance in Queenstown and he didn't want me missing out again so he pretended he was up for having a go!! Bless him!! I would have done it on my own, but he said he wanted to challenge himself anyway!! We arrived at the White Water Rafting place and while some of the group went off to do the rafting, me, Kev and three other guys went off to get wetsuited up and to be introduced to our boards.

Our boards were literally sledges that we were told to never let go of because we were about to get into grade 3 rapids and these boards would provide 70% of our buoyancy. I knew people died doing White Water Rafting which is why we'd chosen not to do that, and I thought the sledging was the safer option. When I joked with our guide that Sledging isn't really that hard, is it? I was disappointed to see his face turn very stark as he replied 'people die doing all these sports on white water!', this was not what I wanted to hear and Mum, you'll be glad to hear I survived and won't be doing it again, so breath a sigh of relief!!
Without doubt, it turned out this was more dangerous than me jumping out of the sky! The first part was the scariest for me as we were told to take a flying leap into the river. I knew I was in for trouble when 1) I couldn't even pick up my sledge to carry it to the river, and 2) I could barely bring myself to take this flying leap into the water. We did jump in though and we steered ourselves into the first Eddy at the side of the river where we could catch our breath for a second. There Kev decided he didn't want to do any more, but the guides weren't having any of that – they told him 'he was going to do this' and that was that, but he was earmarked as one of the ones to keep an eye on. I, on the other hand was still feeling pretty excited but I still had some learning to do. We all had to practice the essential flips that we would need to do if our sledge filled up with water. I struggled to do my practice flip and wasn't too happy when Andy, our guide, said, 'hmm, yeah you're going to struggle because you're vertically challenged' – turned out, the sledge was bigger than my body!! So that we me earmarked as another one to keep an eye on – good luck to the other three guys because our two guides were now assigned to me and Kev and they were out there on their own!!

So we spent the next 45 mins sledging down some rapids and it was great fun (although I don't think Kev would agree). I was just disappointed that my size meant I couldn't really do any of it on my own. I went down one rapid on my own and ended up under water with my board on top of me thinking 'hmmm, somehow I've got to lift this thing out of the water and away from myself, when I couldn't even lift it on dry land....this could be a problem', but survival is a funny thing and somehow I managed to do it. Kev said I was under the water for like a couple of seconds, but to me it felt like ages. It was awesome fun though. We got out just before the river turned into a grade 6 waterfall which all of us were petrified of accidentally drifting down.

A few bruised arms and elbows later and we were on dry land and Kev was able to release every muscle in his body from the constantly tensed position that he had spent the last hour in (and the last night he later admitted to me as he had been silently bricking it since the day before!!). Kev was in more pain from that work out that from his epic trek across the wilderness in Taupo – horses for courses as they say, there's no way I could have done that trek, but I enjoyed the white water.... never again though. Our guide kept saying Mauri prayers to the river as we went down and at the end I was very thankful to still have my life and I won't be taking that chance again in a hurry).

We came back to the campsite and had a well deserved beer before heading to the Skyline of Rotarua. Basically, the Skyline is a gondola ride up a huge mountain which gives you amazing views of the lake here. I didn't really want to do the gondola ride, but I did want to do the luge ride at the top and you can't have one without the other. So we got in the gondola and headed up the slope. At the top we got in our little three wheel sledge thing (you'd have thought we'd have had enough of sledges, but this one had brakes, so we liked it!) Then we shot down the mountain side, Kev much faster than me, along the slalom style track. First we took the obligatory practice scenic route and at the bottom we got on the ski lift back up to the top – wasn't keen on the ski lift at first as I wasn't too comfortable being about 50m above the ground on nothing more than a high tech basket on a rope, but I got used to it.

Next luge ride we took the intermediate course as we were getting a bit cocky and were in need of our next adrenaline fix. This trip was over too soon and so the next ride down we did the scenic one, but a bit faster – I think Kev was trying to race me at one point but I was having none of that, hand constantly on the break thinking to myself, 'I've only got short sleeves on, oohhh, if I come off this, that is going to hurt!!'. I think I have a misplaced sense of danger as I loved going down rapids on a river that many people have died on on nothing more than a bit of plastic, but put me on a toboggan which is suitable for 8-year-old children and ohhh, my mind suddenly recognises danger – bonkers.

By the end of all that we were exhausted so we headed to the supermarket to pick up dinner – a huge bag of massive NZ live mussels which I just cooked successfully all by myself and hopefully will not kill me by the morning! Kev didn't eat any so he shall report in my food poisoned absence if need be!! Met some lovely guys from Switzerland who will be camping around the world for 2 years – mad as hatters! Good stories they had to tell though, but no, three more nights in the van is enough for me.

So while not too much to tell on this blog though I'd better get up to date as we're not sure when we'll have email again, probably not until Auckland on Friday. Heading off to Hobbiton tomorrow (hmmm, I've never even managed to stay awake through a whole Lord of the Rings film, so not sure how I'll get on looking round the film set!!) and then onto a beautiful beach called Whangamata for a couple of nights. Dropping the van off on Friday and then Staying in a real bed in a hostel in Auckland for two nights – a real bed, imagine that!!

Looking forward to hearing from you all soon. Big kisses xxxxx