Day 8: Bungy, Taupo, Tequila, oh my!
We departed Rotorua early in the morning, our first stop being Huka Falls, just north of Lake Taupo. This waterfall wasn't particularly tall or imposing (you quickly become jaded to waterfalls in New Zealand, as you do to cathedrals in Europe), though the water was moving fast and furious. Then we stopped at the Wairakei Natural Thermal Valley, a giant geothermal power plant. There we stood for several minutes, watching steam rise out of fat pipes, contemplating the miraculous natural forces which power this world, like Red Bull, which I really needed at that moment.
And then it was time to bungy. At least, it was for Gemma, Penny, Tony, and Jeremy. They all were leaving the tour after we reached Wellington, and so they wanted to take the plunge in case they didn't make it down to Queenstown. The whole bus poured off at the Taupo Bungy like so many paparazzi. Part of me wanted to participate in the show, but I chose to save my dollars for the more famous Queenstown bungy jumps.
There's something glorious in the voyeurism that is watching someone terrify themselves to death by walking to the edge of a tall platform and hurtling off while attached to a giant rubber cord. A mixture of sympathy for the terror they must feel--and even standing a long ways away, you'll feel the tension transmitted from the edge of the platform, through the air, to your suddenly moist palms--and relief that it isn't you standing up there. All four were troopers, with Jeremy screaming in his Australian accent "Holy shit!" as he fell through the air.
Gemma and I sat next to each other on the bus, and we gossiped endlessly about all the beautiful Aussie celebs. It turns out most beautiful Aussies have beautiful sisters. Elle Macpherson? Nicole Kidman? Kylie Minogue? All had tall, gorgeous sisters. Gemma had actually met Kylie at one of the restaurants she'd worked at in Australia. What I wouldn't give...
Finally we arrived at the edge of Lake Taupo itself and stopped for an hour in the town of Taupo to admire the view. My first stop was a local sports clothing store where Jens recommended I purchase an authentic Adidas New Zealand All Blacks short sleeve rugby jersey, with the special collar. Very good suggestion. The black and white colored team apparel was phat.
Corinna and Jens and I strolled out to the lake's edge to take in the view, with what I believe was a snow-capped Mount Tongariro in the distance. And lo and behold, what did we come upon but the lakeside "Hole In One" Challenge. Out in the middle of the lake, some 115 meters away, was an artificial golf green on a floating pontoon, with three different colored flags, red, white, and blue. The object of the game? Hit a golf ball onto the green and into one of the three holes to win a variety of prizes. Red hole in one? Trip for two to Europe. Blue or white holes (12 inches wide each)? A grab bag of prizes including lodging, adventure packages, meals, and local products.
I hadn't golfed in a year and a half, and a stiff breeze was blowing left to right, but a few phantom swings were enough to convince me I still had the mojo. I paid for 12 balls and Jens, Corinna and I picked out some irons and lined up on the practice mats.
Here's where I note that this wasn't a competition between Corinna and I. After all, the object of the game was to compete against the elements. Still, after I skulled six ugly shots nowhere near the green and Corinna at least sent two of her three balls airborne...I don't want to talk about it.
Off again on the bus. Our next stop was the side of the road on highway 1, I believe. There we stopped to take in a view of Mount Tongariro and Mount Ngauruhoe, two imposing, breathtaking volcanoes located in Tongariro National Park. Mount Ngauruhoe is now famous the world over as Mount Doom in the Lord of the Rings movies. Unfortunately, just as we departed, my Nikon SLR body went haywire on me. So my best shots of the mountains are on video. Someday I hope to return and hike up Mt. Tongariro.
We made yet another stop before Wellington for lunch. The store we stopped at looked just like any other roadside shack, but an unexpected bonus lay behind the building: the Flat Hills Sprint Jet course. Forget the jet boating in Queenstown, this was the single most thrilling boat ride I've ever taken. A former jet boat racer, now middle-aged, had built a tiny course in his backyard, a short moat shaped like a figure eight. His old racing jetboat was back there, tied to the dock.
Kjetil and I were the first two back there, and without hesitation we plunked down our cash. This former sprint jet racer strode out of this wood shed like an aged gunfighter, tall, white-haired, taciturn, his face weathered, mouth curled up in a wry grin. Kjetil and I donned life vests and hopped in with him. Everyone else from the tour was inside eating, apparently, so we were all alone out there.
I had my camcorder in hand, a silly grin on my face. Our pilot (that would turn out to be the appropriate title for the operator of this vehicle) backed the sprint jet out into the center of the figure eight. These jet boats were designed to be operated in as little as six inches of water, an amazing feat of engineering. Still, how exciting could a boat ride be in a course so small I could sprint around it on foot. Our pilot could sense our expectations weren't set properly, I think. Thus the twinkle in his eye as he pointed us at the far end of the course and then tossed the throttle lever to the top...
...We instantly accelerated to about 50mph and went rocketing into the top of the figure eight, our hair trailing behind us horizontally as in the famous Maxell music ad. Given our velocity, we had no chance of negotiating the sharp turn. We were going to shoot off the course into the dry grass fields beyond, unless...unless the sprint jet was so maneuverable it could turn as if on a track, as if our pilot, seated to our left, had reached out and grabbed hold of a lamp pole and used it as an axle. That's just what it felt like as we flew through the course like the cartoon hydrojets shown on the Safeco Field scoreboard during Mariners games.
It didn't last long, maybe just five minutes or so. But it was one of the biggest adrenaline rushes of my entire trip. Add a sprint jet to my list of toys I'll buy for my backyard when I'm a multi-millionaire. If you somehow happen to pass by the Flat Hills Sprint Jet roadside stop, by all means, stop.
From there we cruised into Wellington: New Zealand's capitol, Peter Jackson's hometown, and the site of the world premiere of The Return of the King. My Frommer's guidebook described it as a miniature Hong Kong, and while I didn't see enough of it during the daytime to validate that, any city that is home to Peter Jackson's Weta Workshops and Weta Digital is cool. We checked into Sharella Motor Inn where we had to bid farewell to Tony, Jeremy, Gemma, Penny and Trudy. Gemma promised to meet us out later for dinner. Before I could even contemplate a nap we all set off for dinner in the bus, fast becoming our second home. It was supposed to be a free night for dinner, but Angie and Johnny organized a group dinner at Molly Malone's Irish Pub and everyone looked forward to getting to know each other even better over a few drinks.
We filled the entire upstairs dining room of Molly Malone's. This was supposedly the place that Sean Bean liked to frequent while on location in Wellington. After dinner, I bought a first round of tequila shots. For a moment, as I was about to down my shot, I hesitated, looking at Stephanie and thinking, "This girl is only 18, just recently of legal drinking age, and I'm corrupting her for life." It was, I admit, a brief brief moment.
Then Angie insisted I try one of her shots, dubbed a cock-sucking cowboy. No joke. I nearly refused just on principle. But, realizing my machismo might be mistaken for American close-mindedness or snobbery I indulged in what was one of the sweetest shots I've ever downed. No wonder it's so popular with the ladies.
We migrated downstairs and continued purchasing shots. Vodka, more tequila, sambuca...you name it, we drank it. Beer, liquor, wine. At some point I crossed the tipping point. Some Irish band started belting out some fun little jigs so we hit the dance floor and bounced around like the carefree drunken souls that we, or at least I, had become. There are many different varieties of drunken revels, each with their own tenor, and some of my fondest memories are of the type that involve drunken dancing in Irish pubs, to the tunes of a local Irish band covering traditional favorites.
At some point, and here my memory grows somewhat dim, a group of us splintered off and continued our festivities. Gemma had joined back with us, and she, Olav, Kjetil, Corinna, Jens, and I went out clubbing. In my somewhat hazy elation, I remember only a few moments, flashes of mental acuity and understanding in an otherwise scrambled perceptual fog. A long, massive bar surrounded by a dance floor, filled to the gills with dancers throbbing to the heavy bass. Another club, where they won't let us in because I'm dressed too casually. Screw you, buddy! I wander out into the street, walking in circles, and Corinna grabs me and pulls me out of the way of speeding taxis. One last dance club. Some stranger asks me if I'm here with Corinna, and I say I suppose I am, and he says I'm a lucky guy and he's going to buy me a shot of green something or other. Absinthe? It tastes of liquid plumbing, and for a moment I think he's poisoned me. Sad parting hugs with Gemma as she and her girlfriends are headed off to explore some of the South Island on their own.
A cab ride home. Collapsing into bed at 4 in the morning.
Day 9: Te Papa, a windy ferry ride to the South Island, and Star Wars in Nelson
I was proud of myself for making it to breakfast this morning, though I was definitely one of the stragglers. This is the morning I discovered Vegemite. It was sitting in the breakfast condiment tray, along with the strawberry and other fruit jams. Until now, my only knowledge of Vegemite was the reference in Men at Work's hit single Down Under ("...gave me a bite of his Vegemite sandwich..."). My fellow Aussies informed me that Vegemite was made from yeast. It looked like dark, brown, ummm...yeast extract spread. Taste? Salty. I'll stick to Nutella.
Our
first stop on the bus was some monument, which afforded a view of Wellington,
bounded on one side by mountains and the other by a harbor. And then we
were dropped off at Te Papa Tongarewa,
the Museum of New Zealand. It is acclaimed to be the most advanced
museum in the world, built at a cost of $133 million.
I wish I could speak firsthand of all the various exhibits in Te Papa, but in reality I visited just one. That one was The Lord of the Rings Motion Picture Trilogy: The Exhibition. It would be at Te Papa through April 21, 2003.
This exhibition was by far the most engrossing museum exhibit I've ever visited. Built with the help of Peter Jackson and his crew, it revealed a breadth of information about the making of the trilogy that in many places exceeded the bounds of the behind-the-scenes features in the extended special edition DVD of the first movie. It was a geek feast: costumes and props from the movie, miniatures, making-of video clips, full-size models of Boromir and the cave troll, an incredibly detailed dissection of all the techniques used to give the illusion of the height disparity of the various characters, and high resolution photos. All this was supplemented by a variety of audio clips fed through a rented audio player and headphones. I spent nearly three hours in the exhibit, wandering in a trance.
One detail that stuck in my mind was the fact that two people worked five years linking over 12 million plastic hoops to create the chain mail worn by the characters in the movie. By the end of their efforts, the fingerprints had been worn off of their fingertips! They could have taken the easy way out and simply painted fabrics with metallic paints, but they strove for an authenticity that wouldn't even be visible to the audience on screen. I left with a newfound appreciation for the sheer level of detail and dedication that went into the making of the LOTR trilogy.
By the time I finished there, it was time to catch the ferry over to
the South 
Island.
As with the ferries in Seattle, this behemoth had room in its belly to
hold our bus. The ferry ride was long, several hours long, and out on
deck the wind was tearing across the Cook Strait. Our ferry was actually
tilted to the left most of the way, leaning under the weight of the crosswind.
That day Colin Powell was making his first presentation to the United
Nations, outlining the U.S. case against Iraq. I caught portions of it
on a TV set inside. The rest of the time I spent watching movie clips
on my Powerbook and listening to tunes on my iPod. They're the digital
toys of choice for geeked out travelers, and they make downtime a whole
lot of fun.
Once on the South Island, we again boarded the bus for a drive from Picton to Aloha Lodge in Nelson. Two things to note on this ride. One, a whole lot of folks signed up to take their first ever sky dive as one of their activities for the next morning. I had tried it once before and loved it, but because it was a make-up for a previous jump that had been canceled and I had moved out of town, I went by myself. Surely it had to be even more fun in the company of friends, so I signed up again.
Secondly, Ali and I decided we needed to buy some liquor and throw a party. It would be cheaper then buying drinks at a bar, and downtown Nelson with its bars was a ways off from our hotel.
Our hotel was right on the beach. I wandered downstairs at about 11pm and discovered that most folks had turned in for the night. Nothing much was happening nearby the hotel, so Ali and Laura and I chatted on a couple of sofas while Star Wars played on TV. After the craziness of the previous night, perhaps one alcohol-free night was a good idea.
Next: Free fallin', quad bikin', beach partyin'
Wairakei Natural Thermal Valley: e-mail the Wairakei Geothermal Visitor Centre at netcor@xtra.co.nz. Free admission.
Taupo Bungy: 47 meters, 154 feet, NZ$90. Over the Waikato River.
New Zealand All Blacks online store: authentic gear from Adidas. Very cool team colors, though how do they keep from having heat stroke playing in all black cotton and polyester shirts?
Lakeside Hole-in-One Challenge (07/378-8117)
Flat Hills Sprint Jet in Hunterville: awesome, far more fun than the Jet Boats in Queenstown. A former jet boat racer has built a course back behind a roadside diner. For about NZ$20 to NZ$25, you can ride in this three person raceboat which accelerates from 0 to 60mph in two seconds and experience the G-forces of Formula One racing. Awesome! The ride takes just a few minutes so you're unlikely to have to wait long, but to guarantee that the former racer who pilots the sprint jet isn't herding sheep that day, call ahead.
Cock-sucking cowboy: a shot consisting of 2/3 shot glass full of butterscotch schnapps, and topped off with Bailey's Irish Cream. Adjust mix according to your preference of taste. Incredibly sweet, and thus favored by women.
The Lord of the Rings Location Guidebook by Ian Brodie: only available in Australia and New Zealand. I tried finding a copy back here in the U.S. and had no luck. Highly recommended for fans of the movie traveling through New Zealand. Well researched. I went on a Lord of the Rings safari in Queenstown and half of their anecdotes were drawn from this book. Last I checked, it was available from the Te Papa museum store, and now it looks like Amazon.co.uk is carrying it as well.
Vegemite: made from yeast extract, an alternative to sweet jellies as a spread for your bread. Salty.
Te Papa Tongarewa, the Museum of New Zealand: one of the most technologically advanced museums in the world. Until April 21, 2003, home to the incredible The Lord of the Rings Motion Picture Trilogy Exhibition.
Ferries between Wellington and Picton (on the North and South Islands of New Zealand, respectively): you can take a high speed ferry or the regular Interislander ferry which takes about 3 hours to cross the Cook Strait.