An Afternoon in The Shire

We rose early and shuffled bathroom privileges with the Polish couple who were checking out of the B&B that day. Judy heard us stirring and began to prepare breakfast. When we got to the table we found it covered with a smorgasbord of options, including cereals, yogurt, fruit, milk and juice, French toast, sliced bread, a frittata, and bacon, among other things. Finally a hot breakfast! It was more than two people could ever dream of eating, and we were appreciative of her efforts.

The drive to Hobbiton took about an hour and was a lovely journey through only slightly curving roads, rolling hills, and all the cows and sheep you could ever want. It rained lightly on and off, and then the sun would peek through the clouds. We hoped the weather would hold somewhat so that we wouldn't be completely soaked during our jaunt through The Shire.

We got our tickets and went to the waiting area where we would be picked up by one of the large green Hobbiton tour buses. We loaded up with about 30 people and were driven into a nearby paddock on a narrow winding road. Outside lay pasture after pasture of sheep and black Angus cattle. The cows were even unfenced in areas and stood at the roadside just outside the bus windows. There were even darling babies!

We pulled up to a trail head and got out of the bus. Our guide, an English bloke named Jake, led us down the path and into The Shire. The tour took about two hours and Jake pointed out several interesting set details and provided bits of movie trivia along the way. The couple of rising hills comprising the area looked just like they did in the movies: magical and welcoming. I honestly wished I could buy up the place, kick everyone out, and move into one of the Hobbit houses (even though they were mostly just facades). The detail was incredible and we got more insight into the painstaking effort put into movie-making.

A real garden!

Outside the beekeeper's Hobbit hole

The only fake tree in the place

The surrounding scenery

For once I feel tall.

Sneaky little hobbitses

The Party Tree in the distance

Bilbo's house

Samwise Gamgee's house

After the walk, we were invited to have a free drink at the Green Dragon Inn pub. It was dark and cavernous inside, decorated with dark chunky wood and rustic decor.  A fire burned in one corner. We each grabbed a cup of ale and ginger beer, respectively, and sat outside at a picnic table. There we watched three flies get drunk off a previous visitor's spilled ale. Then The Shire's only inhabitant, Pickles the Cat, made an appearance and I followed her around a bit for a chance to stroke her calico fur. The weather had held and we really enjoyed ourselves. It was time to get back on the bus.

The Old Mill

Inside the Green Dragon Inn

Seeking out the cats, as usual.

Lake-front property

As we drove back to Rotorua, large grey clouds rolled in. I had a bit of a headache so I wanted to stop back at Judy's to grab some water and recombobulate. We had been discussing riding the Skyline Gondola up the hill (and the luge down!) if the weather held, but as soon as we pulled into Judy's place it started to rain. There was no view to speak of so we called it off, opting instead to have lunch at Eat Streat again. We had more Italian pasta at a place called Nuvo, and then made a stop at the Countdown supermarket nearby. It was raining miserably hard by now and we got completely soaked. We decided to have an evening in with frozen pizzas.

Geothermal Immersion

My phone alarm scared the shit out of me at 6:00 AM. Sally made us one last lovely breakfast, including a scrumptious banana bread she had made the evening before. We said our goodbyes and hit the road.

Traffic out of the city was surprisingly chill for it being rush hour. Once we found Motorway 1 we turned off the GPS, knowing we would be on this road for some time. It rained for most of the drive, which was disappointing because we were hoping to see at least one of the several large active volcanoes that had been obscured by clouds and rain on our drive down. Instead, I spent a couple good hours with my eyes glued to the road, jaw clenched, and hands gripped tightly on the wheel. It rained so hard that even with the wipers on full blast, visibility was limited. Again I had to negotiate very tight turns on the winding road, bearing in mind that a logging truck could come screaming around the bend at any given moment.

Eventually the weather let up a bit and we found ourselves at the edge of gigantic Lake Taupo. We stopped at the first turnoff we saw and got out of the car to appreciate the scenery. It was mostly grey and yucky, with rain sprinkling the surface of the water and clouds obscuring much of the view, grey blending into grey. I had noticed some waterfowl floating quite a long way down the shoreline, not sure of what they were. They noticed us too and began to swim toward us. As they neared we could discern that they were a black swan family with a mama, daddy, and downy baby. Daddy stepped out of the water onto the beach and walked toward us, mama and baby in tow. We kept still knowing from experience that these creatures could be quite aggressive. The little one approached me and peeped expectantly, apparently used to being fed by tourists.

The fleet approaches

Dad leads the way

Three beggars

Just then a jeep pulled into the carpark and three women conversing excitedly in Chinese got out. The swans by now had realized we weren't going to give them any food, so they moved on to the newcomers. At first the women were a bit intimidated by the animals and backed away, but soon dared to take selfies with the avian family. Two of them leaned over near the large male, put their fingers up in a peace sign, and posed for a photo. The swan thought the slightly outstretched hands might hold some treat for him, and moved to nibble at the fingers. The women wisely withdrew their hands from his reach.

We got back in the car and continued on, stopping a little later in downtown Taupo to eat some sandwiches we had packed for the journey. Beyond Taupo we entered into a highly active geothermal area, popular because of its many hot spring pools. Steam rose from the ground everywhere and we could smell sulfur as we drove.

When you need to take a super poo

A Windmill in Foxton

We happened upon Wai-O-Tapu Thermal Wonderland and decided to stop for a quick exploration. Admission was kind of expensive, and we only really had time to take the shortest walking tour. Signs boasted that it was New Zealand's most colorful volcanic area but the colors were mostly white, yellow, and sometimes green. There were a couple of brilliantly colored hot pools, and it was unnerving to hear water gurgling violently at a rolling boil deep in jagged caves. Although I love geology, this was not a particularly enjoyable visit. The rain had let up and it was now oppressively humid. Not only that, it smelled strongly of the sulfur steam rising from the vents all around. Many of the features were named for the devil, such as "Devil's Cave" and "Devil's Bath". I suggested the whole park should be called the "Devil's Toilet". At one point we were attacked by a huge cloud of steam while walking by the Artist's Palette pool. I had to use my hoodie to cover my mouth and nose and nearly gagged from how strongly it smelled. We were relieved when the walk was over.

I suggest this be named the "Meh" Pool.

Photographing through steam is no easy feat.

Champagne Pool

Noxious steam

You could walk right up to the lethal water's edge while blinded and choking on fetid steam.

We found where they keep the nuclear waste.

No swimming

Just a short time later we arrived in Rotorua and found our AirBnB, a two-story home tucked into the quiet suburban neighborhood of Koutu. Our hostess Judy greeted us at the door and showed us to our accommodations. Her house was tidy and beautiful, having been designed with an open and spacious floor plan to allow for maximum appreciation of the view. She informed us that she had just received a phone call from Tina, whom we had arranged to meet. Tina would be stopping by to welcome us to Rotorua shortly.

Christina Wirihana, or "Tina" as we know her, is a master weaver and artist who teaches and works out of the National Weaving School. The weaving school is part of the New Zealand Māori Arts and Crafts Institute (NZMACI), which operates traditional weaving and wood carving programs out of the Te Puia museum in Rotorua. Her works are featured in many museums, both nationally and abroad. Our connection with her is another interesting one: Mem's brother-in-law, Les, is the former president of the Evergreen State College, where Tina is an artist-in-residence at the college's Longhouse Education and Cultural Center. Tina and her colleague Edna Pahewa, who we would meet later, have traveled to Evergreen on several occasions to present their work and, over the years, have become good friends with Les. He introduced us via e-mail and we arranged to meet.

She arrived at the B&B and greeted us warmly, as if we were old friends, and introduced us to her equally sweet colleague and fellow weaver, Glenda Hape. The two came in and we chatted briefly about our plans and their weaving work for the Auckland Museum. They presented us with two beautiful gifts of necklaces with large greenstone or "pounamu" pendants. Tina explained that Mem's was chosen for its special significance in relation to her bond with her late husband Michael and the continuation of her life in his absence. A tearful moment followed, and hugs were exchanged. Then Tina offered to take us around the Te Puia museum in a few days and treat us to some special cultural activities. We wholeheartedly accepted and the two departed.

Glenda Hape, me, Mem, and Tina Wirihana

It was now dinner time and Judy suggested we try "Eat Streat" [sic], a strip of open-air style restaurants in downtown Rotorua. We settled on Leonardo's, an Italian joint. There Mem had lasagne and I had carbonara, plus the first non-alcoholic beer I had been able to procure in New Zealand, an Italian brand called Birra Moretti. Afterward we walked to nearby Lake Rotorua, which occupies the crater of a large volcano, and then made our way back to the car. We were very tired and it was time to call it a day. The next morning we would have to rise early for our excursion to Hobbiton.

Refreshing!

Eat Streat

Waterfowl with Mokoia Island, a bird sanctuary, in the background.

The Bike Tree

A Drive Around the Eastern Ward

We had no plans this day other than having dinner with my grad school friends again. Sally's son recommended we drive up and see the wind turbine at the top of the Brooklyn neighborhood and Sally recommended we take the car out and drive along the seawall, so we did both.

The road up to the wind turbine wound tightly and narrowly and we had to pull over and stop frequently to allow traffic to pass us. The views were spectacular, and it was neat to see a wind turbine so close up. We even figured out how to take panoramic photos (finally).

A wind turbine up close

A panorama from above

Blue skies and green hills

Wellington is geographically small and it took just a few minutes to reach the waterfront from the wind turbine. The road curved around the east side of the landmass and we stopped intermittently to take pictures.

Taking selfies on a fishing dock while actual fishermen wonder what the hell we are doing.

The Seatoun Express ferry

Sadly, we never saw any wild penguins.

 Finally found the source of the loud insect noise I had been hearing: a cicada!

We eventually made our way to Scorching Bay and decided to eat lunch at the Scorch-o-Rama. As we entered the restaurant, two hefty men sitting at a table near the door offered us samples of rice pudding. It was good rice pudding, so we resolved to stop and buy some on the way out. At Scorch-o-Rama we had decent sandwiches and fries and were served by a handsome waiter who looked like Sean Bean. As we exited the restaurant, we bought two containers of rice pudding for a snack later.

Mem at Scorch-o-Rama

Mem tests the water temperature

This is what it looks like when your phone takes a picture just as you drop it in the sand. Notice the rice pudding in my hand.

We drove all the way around the northern point until we reached Miramar, where we had visited Weta Workshop the day before. We stopped for petrol in Kilbirnie and then cut back across the land, a short half mile, until we were on the beach road again. We made a couple more photo stops along the way and then returned home.

The Wellington sign, with the last few letters blowing away in the wind.

Somewhere along The Esplanade at Houghton Bay

Rocky beach panorama

A beach sculpture at right with Taputeranga Island (part of a marine reserve) in the distance.

Mem explores

Back at the house in Brooklyn we found Sally, who promptly made us tea (a New Zealand custom that I really enjoyed). We were scheduled to have dinner with my friends Shanna and Alex again so Sally offered to drive us downtown to meet them. She shuttled us down to Cuba Street, a pedestrian strip with a bohemian feel that reminded me of Capitol Hill in Seattle. Restaurants whose cuisines represented a multitude of nationalities lined the street, many offering ample vegetarian or vegan options. Colorful characters making peculiar fashion statements (or maybe I'm just a square) wandered around amusing themselves in the various establishments. We met our friends at Olive, a bistro serving haute versions of run-of-the-mill cuisine. It was nice to catch up some more and play with baby Lilah, who wrestled me for my fascinating necklace. Shanna also re-inspired me to consider doing a PhD, since she was nearly done with hers at that point.

Alex and Lilah

Aunty Marie has the coolest necklaces.

Reading a bedtime book while Lilah keeps tabs on my necklace.

Old friends reunited (plus a new friend)!

After dinner, Mem and I walked up and down Cuba Street and eventually found ourselves back at the Victoria Street bus stop we had used a couple days before. We waited for the next 7 bus, which we knew would only take us as far as the bottom of Hell Hill (actually innocuously named Sugarloaf Hill), but it was better than sitting there another half hour to wait for door-to-door service.

Wellington Town Hall

I don't know, but she's probably up to no good.*

We walked up the hill and, as we were about to turn into Sally's driveway, realized we had not yet been out to see the nearby Brooklyn War Memorial. We followed a paved path leading between two of the neighboring houses and walked along the grassy hill a few short minutes until we reached the memorial. It was perched upon the cliff's edge, rising several meters into the sky and bearing the names of 48 fallen soldiers from Brooklyn. Atop was the statue of an unnamed soldier with his hat in his hand.

The view from the Brooklyn War Memorial

The memorial

The inscription

A pink sunset

We returned home, discussing our interest in history, and entered the house to find Sally watching Defiance, a World War II movie. We finished it with her and then turned in. We would depart early the next morning for our drive north to Rotorua.