Rotorua Smells Bad

Rotorua means “stinky egg smell everywhere” in Maori. Ok, it actually means “second lake,” but I’m sure they meant to call it “stinky egg smell everywhere.” Care and I were pretty pumped to hit our first real tourist destination on the trip. We’ve managed to steer clear of organized excursions so far (see our Whangarei posts), so it was actually a treat to head to the i-site (information center) in town to book our traditional Maori hangi – a feast similar to a Hawaiian luau. We chose Te Puia’s smaller hangi because it came with a Maori show, haka lessons, a feast (so good), and free access to the geyser field located on the marae (village) grounds. The welcoming ceremony was cool – a warrior came out and challenged us. The singing and dancing were pretty, and the weapons demonstrations by some of the guys was sweet...though it reminded me a little of the Star Wars Kid.

The best part though was the audience participation. Carolyn learned the poi dance, and I got instructions on the haka. Care did awesome. The only part she had a hard time with was catching the poi. My haka however was a disaster. I couldn’t stop smiling. I would make the least intimidating Maori warrior ever. Watch both below and vote for your favorite awkward dancer.

After the show we got to eat the hangi – mostly pork and chicken steamed in a pit – along with delicious seafood and pavlova – a popular Kiwi dessert. Once we’d scarfed down our food, Care and I rushed out to catch the eruption of Pohutu, New Zealand’s largest geyser, which erupts hourly and sometimes as high as 30 meters. The smell of sulfur was overpowering, but the range of bright colors from mineral deposits and the heat from the steam were really exciting to see firsthand. I’ve never been to Old Faithful, so this was my first encounter with geysers. Rotorua is covered with geothermal fields, bubbling mud pits, and geysers. By the end of the few days we spent there we were pretty over the smell, but for the rest of my life rotten eggs will remind me of New Zealand. That's probably not the best travel endorsement, but it's true. The hangi experience was well worth the NZ$90, and I whole-heartedly recommend it. Just don’t eat anything within ten hours of the show. There’s a lot of food at the hangi. Seriously. It's like "trying to eat your money's worth at a $12 buffet" amounts of food. You always think you can do it, but inevitably stuff yourself with mac and cheese and never finish that third plate piled high with shrimp tails and some kind of pudding.

Visiting Rotorua, New Zealand by Shawn Forno Rotorua, the city of sulfur and unofficial capital of tourism in the North Island, is home to traditional Maori hangis (feasts), geyser tours, thermally heated basins like the Champagne pools, mud baths, sky diving, bungee jumping, zoos, animal parks, sled luges, 4WD quads...read more

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Whakatane and Playgrounds

It seems like everywhere we turn New Zealanders are doing something active; and not just kind of active – insanely active. Marathon swims, 20 km “fun” runs, 100 km bike rides, there’s even this guy, Shaun Quincy, who just finished rowing a boat from Australia to New Zealand. Solo. (For those of you who have no idea about geography down here – that’s over 1,350 miles). Obviously this abundance of energy seems excessive and confusing to us lazy Americans. However, Care and I think we’ve discovered the reason behind all the famed Kiwi “Can-Do” activities. Playgrounds. That’s right – playgrounds. The high-quality and overwhelming number of playgrounds in New Zealand is staggering. Well-designed skate parks litter tiny neighborhoods. Full scale climbing walls are placed
right next to see-saws. Tire swings and a monstrosity called the “Roktopus” cozy up to these spinning platforms that are designed to fling you off. The best part is that most of these places don’t have the safe spongy floors that play areas have in the States. No, these Kiwi kid death traps/awesome centers are paved with sand, wood chunks, and even straight-up big rocks. One of the best playgrounds we found was in Whakatane, in the Bay of Plenty. (Remember “Wh” is pronounced as an “F”…shockingly enough in this case). This thing had a massive zip line, swings, slides, climbing, skate park, pirate ship replica, fitness center, pull up bars, balance beams, and even hurdles – all just steps away from the beach. Carolyn and I got so swept up in the awesomeness that we competed against each other in a grueling obstacle course comprising everything in the park. It was so sweet. The secret to all this Kiwi exercise insanity is the simple fact that Kiwi kids are provided with no end of slightly dangerous, but extremely awesome, playground equipment. They learn young that climbing, swinging, running, and flipping off stuff is super fun. How else do you think New Zealand invented zorbing? I have a feeling that if we installed a few more zip lines in American preschools, we’d have some kid continuously backflipping his way across Nebraska…or some other equally hilarious middle state.

Mean People Suck

Well, I hate to interrupt this chain of happy-go-lucky, “New Zealand is the best place ever!” posts, but it’s time for a harsh dose of reality. Yesterday Shawn and I were robbed. At 10 am we parked Flash in a spot that seemed like a great find because A) it was free, and B) it was walking distance from free wifi at the library. But in hindsight it was a sketchy lot hidden behind bushes where nobody would see the glass of our side window shattering. Why can’t foresight be the one that’s 20/20?
By the time we came back to the van at 1:30 pm, some jerk had invaded our cozy home and run off with my wallet, my American phone, and two of Shawn’s small bags. The wallet makes sense – it was a really cute Coach wristlet I received as a gift in my mortgage brokering days, and inside was: $150 NZ and $200 US, my NY driver’s license, 2 debit cards, 5 credit cards, 2 Starbucks cards, a sweet money clip, oh and only the keys to the ignition and Club on the steering wheel! We were lucky the van was even still there. Shawn’s bags held more eclectic treasures. Had the stupid-dummy-head robber looked inside the bags before stealing them, he would have seen: a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, razor, shaving cream, deodorant, wool gloves, $2 ladies sunglasses (you know, the gold ones Shawn always wears in the photos…), magic markers, pushpins, surf wax, a California Raisins figurine, and worst of all, Brendan. That plastic dinosaur really tied the room together.
Despite small frustrations (have you ever tried to cancel 7 cards from overseas?!), we’re feeling incredibly grateful. Yeah it sucks to lose money, and it kills me knowing that the things that meant heaps to us, but had no monetary value, are lying in a ditch somewhere. But we're counting our blessings because we still have 2 laptops, 2 ipod touches, our camera, NZ cell phone, passports, and Shawn’s money (hehe). Other than the one scumbag, the Kiwis have been nothing but awesome. Terry, the police constable, drove us to a used car parts lot where we found a perfect match for our 1987 Townace window. He even haggled with the owner to get us a good deal – “Come on mate, they had their money taken too,” he said and winked at us. Julie, another officer, drove out to us the next morning and fingerprinted the van while we ate breakfast. A young rafting guide we met in a coffee shop today heard the story and bought Shawn a flat white.
	To top it off, some complete stranger was a rockstar when he saw the broken glass. He crossed the parking lot, walked straight up to us, and put a $10 bill in my hand. He said, “I saw what happened to you and it’s just awful. Take this and buy yourselves a drink or something.” Then he ran off towards his car and added over his shoulder, “We’re not all bad!” I didn’t even have time to thank him. Woolworth’s parking lot dude – you’re my new hero. UPDATE FROM SHAWN: Deep breath. Ah… The window is fixed, the damage erased, and we’re shaking ourselves off, chalking one up to bad circumstances and rotten luck. Care and I are moving on – a little bit wiser, a lot warier, but by no means jaded. Traveling is all about exposing yourself to the elements, and it’s ridiculous to think that we’d only encounter sunshiney days and lollipop forests.
I came across a quote on my sister Cherise’s facebook page, and it’s eerie how appropriate it is to our current situation: “Any idiot can face a crisis – it’s day-to-day living that wears you out.” - Anton Chekhov. We’re bummed about what happened, but a robbery is small peanuts to the everyday stumbling blocks of monotony and apathy that sometimes crept into our lives in the States. While we may be low on cash at the moment, it could be a lot worse. I could be in a cubicle right now.

How to Theft-Proof Your Car in New Zealand by Shawn Forno New Zealand is best seen from the open road. The spread out nature of the country, limited public transit options, and affordability of self contained camping make exploring from a personal vehicle the best choice for any tourist regardless of length of stay...read more

Mount Maunganui and Tauranga

It’s a strange feeling to head east, leaving the safety and familiarity of Auckland behind us. We’ve taken our time getting to the jumping off point of the trip - vacationing in Fiji and staying in Auckland for weeks building Flash. Even driving up to Northland felt safe because we knew we’d swing back through Auckland to stay with Pete and Michelle again. But now that Hot Water Beach is behind us, we seriously have no idea what we’re doing. It was the last destination that we knew anything about. We're finally traveling by the seat of our pants, and it's an awesome feeling.

	The first stop on the “we’ve got no plan at all” leg of the voyage was Mount Maunganui – and it was sweet. We freedom camped right next to the water, and climbed the deceptively tall mountain at the mouth of the harbor. The 360 degree views of the bay, the beach, the ocean, and a long, thin, sandy island that’s actually a forest preserve are amazing. But the best part is that from the peak you can see the waves stacking up like corduroy. Carolyn chased down a few pocket-sized sheep for a photo-op on our way down as I ran to get my board. Seriously – best waves of the trip. Good size waves (overhead), peeling rights, beautiful sun, and best of all – no insane paddle out define Mount Maunganui's surf. A few hours later I got out, exhausted but happy, and Care and I watched the sun go down on the water. It wasn’t as cheesy as it sounds. After that we saw Avatar. Speechless. The “we’ve got no plan at all” plan is awesome.

Destination Guide: Mount Maunganui and Tauranga by Shawn Forno Mount Maunganui, the 256 meter mountain that guards the entrance to the city’s bustling harbor, is the namesake for this laidback jumping off point to the Bay of Plenty in the North Island. Mount Maunganui's gradual ascent and beautiful views provide just the right environment...read more

Hot Water Beach

The only bad thing about New York is that nobody owns a hot tub. And I mean no one. Sometimes I’m all, “Man, living in the best city ever is wearing me out with how awesome it is. I just wish I could unwind in a pool of really hot water.” But I can’t. So when Care and I heard from the Kiwi bartender at the Sunburnt Cow in Manhattan (an Australian themed bar) that you can literally dig your own hot tub in the sand at a beach in New Zealand, we were excited, yet skeptical. Turns out everything he promised was true.
Hot Water Beach (that’s its actual name by the way) on the east coast of the Coromandel Peninsula is home to a freak collision of geothermally heated underground water and a beautiful beach location. Two hours before and after low tide you can rent a shovel at the café in the parking lot and dig a few feet into the sand. Within minutes, hot water will seep up into the hole effectively making your own tailor built hot tub. It’s crazy. The only thing is that it’s hard to gauge how hot the water will be. Pools right next to each other can vary from lukewarm to 150C (that’s insanely hot). Care and I dug our hole pretty quickly – me shoveling, and Care constructing an awesome sand wall to protect us from the waves and other greedy diggers. We thought we had a sweet thing going – it was warm and certain parts of the sand were hot to the touch – like those hand warmer packets you put in your ski jacket. Then a few people abandoned their pools and we took a walk. A pool ten feet away almost burned my feet off. It was mind-blowing. We actually had to drain other cooler pools into it just so we could get in. We stayed forever, soaking away the stress of life on the road, while marveling at a tourist attraction that actually lives up to the hype. It almost never happens, but when it does it’s nice to kick your feet up and relax in a hot tub. Or at the beach. But it’s double sweet when you can do both at the same time. Hot Water Beach is double sweet.

Destination Guide: Hot Water Beach by Shawn Forno Every year thousands of vacationers from around the world descend on Hot Water Beach in New Zealand to dig their own hot tub in the sand. The source of the hot water is an underground spring of geothermally heated water located just feet beneath the sand, right next to...read more Destination Guide: Coromandel Penisula by Shawn Forno The Coromandel Peninsula is one of the last true hippie hideouts in New Zealand. The small population of towns like Thames, Coromandel Town, and Whangamata swell from a few hundred to thousands as visitors from nearby Auckland pour into town each summer...read more

"Hot Water Beach" - a comic by Shawn Forno

Travel Bug Bites

Carolyn here, reporting live with my first special-interest post! I'm half of this talented twosome some call "Carolorno"…or was it "Fornolyn"..."Carno"? It just doesn’t roll off the tongue like "Shiana"… Anyway, my contributions to this bodacious blogging duo are mostly behind the scenes, so I wanted to take this chance to jump out front and say hello. Also, don’t be afraid to show us some love by leaving comments! We wanna know what you love about the blog, what you can’t stand, and what you want more of (please say knock knock jokes). If you have no opinion, we love you anyway and want to know what you had for breakfast.

But the real reason I’m writing today is to tell you about insects, AND HOW THEY ARE THE MOST EVIL THING IN NEW ZEALAND EVER EVER EVER EVER. I grew up in the muggy South, so I’m no stranger to mosquitos. In Auckland, we breezed past the bug repellant aisle when we were loading up Flash – bug spray is for wimps and DEET can kill you, right? So wrong. A few weeks of beach-hopping and a few thousand bug bites later, we learned our lesson. Maybe we’re spoiled city slickers from New York, but it felt like these Northland mosquitos swarmed twice as hard and bit twice as often as those in the States. And when the mozzies were sleeping during the day, we were devoured by sandflies, a New Zealand specialty. The sandfly is a nasty little bugger because he looks like a harmless gnat to the untrained eye, but up close, his true, evil identity is revealed! Some of their bites are hard enough to draw blood.
We’ve also had bad luck with bees and wasps. I got stung while I was driving on the highway. The angry little wasp bounced off the sideview mirror, down the back of my pants, and stung me 3 times in the butt before I could pull over and jump out of the van (just like in Tommy Boy). Shawn's bee attack was more traditional. He got stung in the face. When we went through Auckland again we spent almost $100 NZ on the war against bugs. We bought itch creams for the bites we already had, spray repellant to drench our skin and clothes (80% DEET yo!), and a Raid mozzie lantern with smoke that kills every bug in a 10 foot radius. Consider yourself warned - this was not an overreaction.

Bayly's Beach - New Zealand's Longest Beach

Flash has tiny tires - seriously itty bitty - so we’ve done our best to keep him off gravel roads and sandy beaches. However, the densely packed sand at Bayly’s Beach let us take Flash on his first beach sleepover. He was pretty stoked about it. The first thing that attracted me to Bayly’s was the monstrous surf. The beach is a bit out of the way for most travelers headed up to Cape Reinga, but after my session at Ahipara I was craving some good waves with size on ‘em. Bayly’s delivered.
	I’ve never paddled that hard. Ever. Set after set rolled in during the evening session, and just when I thought I’d made it to the line up, the break zone receded as outside sets kept pounding those of us foolish enough to paddle out in the large swell. The worst part was that the current pushed north so quickly that when my exhausted arms and shoulders finally pulled me past the breakers, I was a few hundred yards up the beach.
Poor Carolyn with her camera was a little dot in the distance vainly trying to pick me out of a wetsuit clad line-up with the setting sun in her eyes. It was cute watching her try. I caught a handful of waves, but they kept re-forming off a hidden sandbar. It was impossible to get a good ride, so after an hour of flailing I paddled in, thoroughly humbled. The sunset was nice, though. That night Flash’s solar powered twinkle lights battled thousands of stars as the sound of waves lulled him to sleep. I'm sure he dreamt of flying down the flat packed sands of New Zealand's longest beach at breakneck speeds. In the morning I paddled out for another surf to slightly better results. I've always heard that even your worst surf session can leave a fond memory behind. If that's true than I will forever remember Bayly's Beach.

Destination Guide: Bayly's Beach by Shawn Forno Many people mistake Ninety-Mile Beach at the tip of Northland in the North Island for New Zealand’s longest beach. However, that particular honor belongs to the sprawling coastal cliffs of Bayley’s Beach on the southwestern coast. Sandy beaches stretch as far...read more

Opononi and Opo "The Friendly Dolphin"

We stopped in Opononi through sheer happenstance. I’d been driving for a bit and wanted a milkshake (New Zealand makes a really good milkshake) so we pulled over at a dairy/takeaway to grab a bite. Next thing we know, we see these beautiful sand dunes across the inlet and in typical backpacker fashion we said, “Wanna go for a swim?” Guess what - we did want to. The water was insanely cold - but refreshing - and the people put up with our bizarre antics with typical Kiwi tolerance. Care and I even had a hopping race, where we frantically hopped down the beach. Good times.

The only thing besides the dunes and good milkshakes that Opononi is famous for is Opo, "The Friendly Dolphin," who in the summer of 1955 swam into the inlet and played with human swimmers for several months. Her interactions with the people were so entertaining that thousands of New Zealanders flocked to this tiny hamlet in Northland to catch a glimpse of the friendliest.dolphin.ever.

Tragically, Opo was murdered by local fishermen (allegedly) after the city passed a law giving her special protective status. A bronze statue in town still commemorates her life and death. Opo was even given a full Maori funeral with all the rights of a tribal member. Here’s a link to a fan site for Opo that even includes a popular 1950's song about the beloved mammal. Strangely enough, when we first landed in Auckland some of the front page news was of a new friendly dolphin, Moko, at the beaches near Whakatane. He was such a popular attraction that the city council hired three full time minders (lifeguards) that ensured his safety, and that of swimmers. Unfortunately, Moko didn’t stay in Whakatane for more than a few weeks, but the nightly news speculated on possible places that he might head to next, with guesses ranging as far as Gisborne.

It’s tales like Opo and Moko, the friendly dolphins, that put the subtle differences between New Zealand and American culture into perspective. The U.S. erects statues of war heroes, generals, politicians, and business moguls. New Zealand commemorates friendly dolphins. Maybe we could use a few statues of Flipper.