Blustery Day in Rotorua

And do you know what's good on a blustery day in Rotorua?  Fish and Chips.  That's what.  In my case accompanied by some crisp New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc as I sit comfortably in my motel room listening to the wind and rain.
Pil, what's up with the motel?  We all know you refuse to drive in foreign lands--especially when they drive on the left.
Lotsa motels in New Zealand, and none of them require the guest to have a car.  This place happened to be convenient and to have the facilities, I needed.
Today was given over to exploring the town and spending money.  It's easy to spend money in Rotorua.  I saw few touristy stores in Hamilton and none in Wellington.  Well, here every third or fourth store on some streets is given over to souvenirs.
Whadja, buy, Pil?
My linen bag from Battle in Sussex (1066 and all that) is on it's last legs.  I thought I'd get a new bag in New Zealand, but I had requirements.  If you want a bag that says New Zealand on it, there are zillions of them.  They are for amateurs.  I wanted one with the Maori name--Aotearoa.  It translates to Land of the Long White Cloud and was supposedly the first words by the first human discoverers.  I found a nice bag today.  Snagged it.  I also bought some earrings with New Zealand shell, which people will be forced to admire.   I got, wrote, and mailed some postcards.  There were a few other odds and ends, one of which I will discuss in a bit, and, of course, the fish and chips.
The owner was a friendly chap--a Chinese immigrant--who asked me where I was from as my accent was easier for him to understand than those of New Zealanders.  While my fish and chips were being prepared, we chatted of this and that.  He asked me about pollution in Los Angeles, and I told him what the state had done to improve it.  He hesitatingly asked me about the political scene, and I assured him it was all right to discuss it with me.  People in other countries are Very Well Informed about what goes on in the United States.  Most of them do not hold this against us.
I got a lot of walking in before coming back to gorge on chips.  Rotorua is flat although its surroundings are not.  I walked down to the lake front where I saw sea planes being tossed on the waves.  I was looking for an atm for my bank's Southern Hemisphere partner.  I eventually found one once I figured out that group of stores was a giant shopping center or centre.
One big product in New Zealand is the famed Manuka Honey, which apparently is chock full of anti oxidants or probiotics or something healthful.  The stuff sold in the United States is probably fake or inferior given the prices for the stuff here.  I opted for some chocolates filled with the stuff.  Shall I try it?
Don't let us stop you!
Tasty enough, but the ratio of chocolate to honey is high, so I didn't get much sense of the honey.  If you know me in person and are nice to me, I might share when I get back.  Maybe.

Wellington to Rotorua

Rotorua smells--not unpleasantly--of sulfur.  As we turned into town I spotted a few hot plopping mud holes. The town is famous for them, and the region abounds in thermal springs.
I set out early to catch the 7:45 bus here.  It was worth it to me, as sorry as I was to leave Wellington, to have a direct bus without any dreaded transfers, and to arrive at a reasonable hour.  More people smoke on the streets in Wellington than Auckland, and another difference is Wellington folk cross against lights often and enthusiastically.  Sometimes I followed their example.
The trip was only a little over six hours this time.  Except around Auckland and Wellington, there are no multilane highways.  The main routes across the North Island are single lane in each direction.  We recrossed the desert.  Let's just say that it's not my favorite part of New Zealand.  We also got new views of glaciered Mt. Ruapehu as well as the ominous Mr. Volcano festooned with old lava flows.  We also passed through the usual gorgeous countryside and crossed numerous rushing rivers.
One of our stops was in a town called Bulls.  We went through it on the way to Wellington, too, and I thought who names a town Bulls.  Why?  It is clearly a place of great civic pride with bull models and images All over.  They must think their town is admirabull.
We passed my motel on the way to the bus station, so I knew where to come.  There's a grocery store pretty much right across the street.  The issue is that it's a major thoroughfare, and there are no lights or crosswalks or anything of that description.  My hostess told me to sprint.  This seemed to work.
Now you may have noticed a Major Omission on this trip, and it is one I have determined to correct this evening.  I am talking about cheese!  I got a selection of some nice grass fed New Zealand cheese.  Shall I taste them for you?
Why do you think you have to ask, Pil?
All these are cows milk cheeses. I going to start with something called Livingstone Gold, which is semi soft and colored with annatto so it's orange.  I have nice crackers to put all this stuff on.  Now for a bite.
Nice.  It doesn't taste like much at first but then a mild but complex flavor develops, and it's rather like very good Monterey Jack.
Now for something called Aged Airedale.  It's aged in red wax and is described on the package as sharp.  I don't find it so, but it has a very interesting and distinctive flavor.  I can't compare it to any other cheese, but I like it.
The next is a cheddar style cheese called Totara Tasty.  Here we go.  Mmm.  Good cheddar flavor!
Last we have Windsor Blue, a soft cheese described as "buttery."  The texture is nice and it has a sharp blue cheese taste.
Now I feel I have done my duty--but it was also a pleasure!

A Day Out in Middle Earth

Or at least that part of it on the North Island of New Zealand.  I sprang for the full day LOTR site tour that included pick up and drop off at my hotel, a Weta Workshop tour, and lunch.  It was a great day out, and I am very glad I did it because there was a lot of fascinating information about the filming and the sites were beautiful in themselves.
As we drove around Wellington picking folks up, our driver/guide pointed out historic spots and told us fun facts about the city.  Then we took off for Mount Victoria also known as "the outer Shire."  It's a heavy-wooded hillside with many trails, and it's where Peter Jackson began filming Fellowship of the Ring with the four Hobbits.  Our guide was very knowledgeable about the filming and throughout the day told us a lot of inside stories.  He also could tell us about the history and botany of the sites we visited.
I am not going to list all the places,  but although all the places are reachable by the public, they are not reachable by public transportation, and unless you knew what you were looking for you would not notice anything in particular no matter how familiar you are with the movies as there were a lot of special effects used to enhance the images.
We went to the river that stood in for the Anduin where the Fellowship paddled their canoes while being stalked by Orcs.  Oh.  Do you know why there are no Orcs in Wellington?  'Cause they're all in Orcland (Auckland).  Yuk yuk!  We also went to the site where Gandalf met Saruman at Orthanc and visited the national park where Peter Jackson and Co. built Rivendell.  As an added adventure, our own "Fellowship" crossed the swinging bridge--perfectly safe but exciting.  This park is covered in lush forests and streams and rivers abound.
Despite the heat of the day, we drove in air conditioned comfort and found plenty of green and shade.  There were plenty of chances to use the public toilets with which New Zealand is blessed.  I would recommend the tour highly.  You can book on line, and I encourage you to do it about a week in advance to get your preferred dates.
I am leaving Wellington tomorrow--early, and I'm sorry.  I wish I had scheduled more time here.  The truth is I think I like Wellington and the area more than Auckland, but let's just keep that between us.

A Day Out in Wellington with Friends

Ah.  Here I am sitting at my ease in my luxury flat with CNN on doing my laundry.  There are few things More Luxurious on a trip than clean clothes.  I have a full size washer and drier in my suite, and the lovely, good people at City Life left me some washing powder.  Also I discovered this morning that my suite had an Actual Teapot. I'd been getting along with improvisations, so a teapot in which to steep my breakfast tea was a real treat.
Presently I will pour myself a glass of some nice Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc--my white of choice.
This is a nice story.  During World War II my mother lived in San Francisco while my father was away in the Navy, and she connected with some folks from New Zealand.  One woman who returned to New Zealand after the war remained in touch with my mom.  In short they were pen pals.  When she died, her daughter Jan took up the pen, and she and my mom stayed in touch until my mother died.  Jan is also in touch with some of my other relatives, and my mother went to see her in New Zealand, and they came to see us in California.  My cousins hooked us up, and we arranged to meet today.
I did some chores before that.  I confirmed my tour tomorrow, and I booked my bus trip to Rotorua for Wednesday.  I'm glad I did because the seats available had dwindled, and I'm back in the fancy  seats, but I'll be able to go direct instead of having a nasty wait and transfer.
I also went to Te Papa--the Museum of New Zealand, which is a large modern facility near the waterfront.  I was after Maori and Pacific Island Art. Auckland has a better collection, but Te Papa has some incredible pieces created by contemporary Maori Artists and the exhibition is accompanied by haunting Maori melodies.
Also not to be missed is the justly popular exhibit on Gallipoli where so many soldiers from Australia and New Zealand died in World War I.  The story is told though eyewitness accounts and artifacts and recreations of the battle.  Weta Workshop contributed some giant models of featured soldiers.
Then I went to meet Jan and her husband John.  They took the train in from their home, and then we took the cable car up the hill to the Botanical Gardens and strolled down through them to the rose garden and the cafe where they took me to lunch.  It was so pleasant catching up with them.  After lunch we came back here for cooling drinks and more chat.  Then I saw them off at the train station.
It was a hot day, but it turned out well.

Hamilton to Wellington

My idea of a sound trip is to go from the airport to my apartment and  plunk myself and my bags down for the duration. This trip is not like that.  I'm fond of Hamilton, but I must move on.
I figured out a short cut to the bus station and tested it yesterday.  It's hilly but avoids the scary roundabouts.  I am sure New Zealand drivers are taught to watch out for pedestrians, but the roundabouts make me nervous anyway.
I got my bus ticket yesterday. The only seats left were the "Gold," i.e. fancy seats in front.  I'll feel like an idiot sitting there, and I don't know how to make a long bus ride interesting.
Here's some practical advice for when you walk out of the grocery store with a big container of ravioli and then suddenly realize all you have in the motel room is a microwave and not a burner.  You can microwave pasta.  I poured boiling water on it and then zapped it for four minutes.  I used some of the starchy pasta water to mix with the pesto I got, drained said pasta and added the sauce.  it works.
Yesterday I forgot to mention the birds.  As I was walking though the indigenous forest I came upon two tiny brown birds engaged in . . . something.  They looked like sparrows but then fanned out their tails and the tails had vertical brown and white stripes.  It looked like some kind of dominance display, but at any rate the birds were oblivious to my presence.
And here I am in Wellington after a ten hour bus ride.  Argle.  The driver was skilled and courteous, and there was an additional person to look after the passenger list and our luggage.  I was comfortable enough.  The bus was a double decker, and the fancy seats were upstairs.  We had ample bathroom and food stops.
The trip here was--well--long and tiring.  At first we passed lush farmland featuring not just the usual sheep and cattle, but alpacas and red deer.  Then we began to climb and went up and down heavily forested hills and deep valleys with rushing rivers.
We crossed something our driver referred to as the Desert Region.  It was a high plateau with scrubby plants.  Desert?  The Californian in me sniffed, "Amateurs."  And it was boring and Went On Forever.  As did the trip, but I did get to see a lot of the North Island including a glacier covered mountain and an obvious volcano.  A lot of it was beautiful, and I loved the green.
Whoa!  I got upgraded to a luxury suite.  I have so much space--it's almost as big as my condo.  And what am I going to do with two bathrooms?  Never mind I'll think of something, and I totally deserve it.

Glorious Hamilton Gardens

I'd been anticipating Hobbiton even before I started seriously planning the trip.  That's one kind of pleasure--the long awaited one.  Hamilton Gardens was another kind of pleasure--the unexpected marvelous experience that takes one by surprise.
There was a thunderstorm last night that did nothing to decrease the heat and humidity, so I knew I needed green, shade, and if possible flowing water or fountains.
I don't know why these gardens are not more famous.  They are a fifteen minute bus ride from the station.  I expected to be dropped off at the gates, but the bus stop is near the information center.  There's also a path beside the river that you could take to the gardens from the town center.  If it had been cooler I would have walked back.
First I explored the "Gardens of Paradise."  Oh My Goodness!  These are recreations of various styles of gardens from different cultures, and each is exquisite.  I saw the Nineteenth Century Romantic Garden, which was very pretty, but I'd seen such things before.  The same with the Italian Renaissance Garden, but the recreation of the villa and grotto was highly impressive. The Mughal Garden glowed with brilliantly colored flowers, and there was a fountain.  I adored the Chinese Scholar's Garden from the Sung Dynasty with its trees, pond, and small temple-like pavilion.  The Japanese Zen Garden invited rest and contemplation.  One side was combed sand, boulders and sparse plants.  The other a duck pond surrounded by beautiful plants.
That was just the beginning.  The herb garden was fragrant, and there are two vegetable gardens--one farm-like and the other a model for a productive and sustainable backyard.  One of the most fascinating was a recreation of a Maori garden.  Part of it was cultivated plants and part wild plants they gathered.  I won't list all the specialized gardens I saw, but they were all fun, and more are opening all the time.
I am going to pause here to have a refreshing sip of some Australian Rose since I've already had my water.  Ahhh.
Now where were we?  From these gardens I strolled through the Camellia Lawn and into the Rose Garden, which is extensive and has a lovely scent.  While I was walking though some of it, I thought, "This reminds me of Malmaison."  And indeed I came upon a sign explaining that that part of the garden was modeled on the Empress Josephine's.
One of the things I enjoyed most was the Valley Walk through native woodland.  So lush and beautiful, and the textures and varied shades of green lent it magnificence.  Those giant ferns are positively primordial.
So if you are in the neighborhood, don't miss Hamilton Gardens.  Entrance is free, and the cafe will feed you if need sustenance.
After I returned to town I did some errands.  I found a post box for my cards, and I have my ticket to Wellington.  Tomorrow I am facing a hideously long bus ride.

¡HOBBITON!

One does not simply walk into Hobbiton.  But it is a quest worth undertaking, nevertheless.  Getting there is a process.  For one thing the visitor should book ahead.  Now I thought I had blown it by not booking soon enough.  Nope. All the visitors traveling by bus, traveled as I did.  There is no less complicated way unless you want to book a Very Expensive private tour--and the trip is expensive enough without that.
You can go from Auckland, and many of my fellow travelers did, but they had to change buses in Hamilton. They had to get up early for a long bus ride. I spent the morning leisurely, and I explored the town before hopping aboard.  After about an hours ride through pretty, green countryside with rolling hills and farmland one arrives in Matamata.  The bus station itself is done up like a hobbit hole! It's so cute.
Then one transfers to the Hobbiton shuttle after receiving the tickets from the desk inside.  One reason the entrance fee is so steep is that there is a mandatory guided tour.  The visitor cannot just go wandering. Our tour guide was a cute Glaswegian named Michael.
It's a beautiful site and well-worth seeing.  A lot of people in our group had not in fact seen the movies or read the books!  For those of us who are real Tolkien geeks, the experience is magical.  This is Hobbiton.  You are in the Shire!  There are narrow clay paths winding around the site taking the group past a variety of Hobbit holes--all with their unique personality.  Photos are encouraged.  I took about a zillion of them.  Kind fellow tourees took a couple of me posing with a Hobbit hole.
There are ducks in the pond, and because of the vegetable and flower gardens, butterflies flit and bees hum.  It's just delightful.  But wear stout shoes when you come.
The commentary explains the history of the site and the construction and points out significant details. The details!  The people who designed and built these sets were obsessive!  They hoped their work would appear for a few seconds in the film and contribute to the sense of reality that Peter Jackson hoped to create.
The day was hot and muggy, but we all had fun on the tour which then finished up at the Green Dragon pub.  A drink is included in the price of admission--and most welcome it is by that time.  I honored my Anglo-Norman heritage and had some cool, refreshing cider.
The shop is a let down however.
Then we were bussed back to Matamata.  This is where things began to fall apart.  There was a long layover until the bus for Hamilton came, and Matamata is pleasant enough but on a muggy afternoon after one has walked down the main street and back again and strolled under some oak trees--well, that's it.  To make things worse there was an accident on the highway from Rotorua, and our bus was more than a half hour late.  Those poor saps needing to return to Auckland would miss their connection.   Because of the delay, I think the bus driver was stressed.  She was very unpleasant as a result.  The first New Zealander I've encountered who has been less than gracious.
So I got home late, wilted and hungry, but didn't Bilbo, Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Sam suffer worse?