One more time.

They make you pull. Your own. Ripcord.

I can't inflict my own fear, this is why I pay other people to inflict my fear for me. Skydive? No worries. Sling Shot? Not a problem. I don't have to do anything, I just sit back and its all done for me. I get my adrenalin fix, they get a large portion of my bank account, everyone goes away happy. I had to make Andrea do it.

Oh...

My...

Fucking...

Gooooodddddd!!!!

If you want the girly screaming in full clicky here ( http://www.flickr.com/photos/ohfuckkit/3231968215/ ) which will take you to an external site which also whores all my other photos and videos...

Chicks Dig Scars

So yeah apparently you can tip them if you don't steer soon enough and slam into the tiny barriers which are about the same height as the luge itself. It turns out if this happens they do definately tip and send you flying head first into the ground thus potentially marring your perfect features and I now have a rather handsome graze on my left shoulder to remind me of this fact. Oh and for future story telling purposes I didn't stack it on the scenic track, clearly it was the advanced track whilst going over a jump.
The intermediate is cool if you don't mind kids tearing past you while you nurse your injuries but the advanced track is awesome! I still got overtaken by children but they bounce. After finding out that I most definately do NOT bounce I slowed down for the corners and dammit if I'd have had indicators I'd have used them too.

Once we'd eaten as much as would actually fit (and spot the backpackers, going up for more) we waddled to some tram things that would take us to their geothermal valley to see if the geyser, Pohutu, was erupting. It so totally was and it was fucking beautiful. I've never seen a geyser before, it's totally stunning.

I reckon it's worth the $95 if only for the feed and the geyser. It was pretty cool to see the Haka though and watching the fellas in the crowd get on stage and try and do it was hilarious.

We headed home and I spent the night admiring my wound and trying to decide if it made me look tough. Well I guess it might. If I lied about how I got it anyway.

written by  Koala Bear on January 19, 2009 from Rotorua, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Tiny Little NZ Road Trip
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Grr An Things

As we wandered back to towards the spa area a man called Benji asked us if we'd like to carve patterns in some wood for free. Ah well, it's free init so we picked our patterns and hacked away at our little squares. It's quite cool actually and he even coated them in oil for us afterwards although I have no idea what I'm going to do with mine. The symbol apparently means "Strength" which lets face it, we could all use some of that every now and then.

Then it was off to the mud spa. Word of advice; Don't wear white or your best togs for this because they will not remain so for long. It also turns silver jewllery black so if you're quite partial to that ring your dear dead granny left to you in her will you might want to leave it at home.
I fucking loved the mud bath though, you jump into this warm, murky water and feel around the bottom for lumps of mud to smear all over yourself whilst trying not the think about how many people before you have smeared this exact mud in parts you don't wanna know about. Fortunately we didn't find any random pubes but the girls in our dorm did when they went a bit later.

You Know Ya Want Me

It doesn't matter how much you shower either, the trouble with Rotorua is, you can never tell if its you that still stinks or if its the bloody city.

written by  Koala Bear on January 20, 2009 from Rotorua, New Zealand
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Lady Knox Bollocks

Meh.

Fortunately your $27 also gains you entry into the park as well which, as well as the expected steaming pools of stuff named after various things the devil might utilise (Devil's Home, Devil's Bath, Devil's Ink Pots. Satan seems to use Rotorua as a veritable holiday home) it has some really pretty colours, like someone went mental with several pots of paint.
The highlight of Wai-O-Tapu (meaning Sacred Waters but I think the hyphens were added to draw the tourists because tourists like hyphens) is the Champagne Pools, created by an eruption about 700 years ago. They're edged by an unnatural looking orange whilst the pool itself is an eerie green. The park is full of colours made from various oxides produced from the geothermal activity.

Champagne Pool

As pretty as it is both me and Andi were geothermaled out. What with Hell's Gate and the park in Rotorua plus this, it was enough geothermal activity to last us both a lifetime. We headed on to Taupo, home of the Great Lake which is pretty fucking massive by NZ standards. When I very first drove up this way from Wellington to Auckland I passed by the lake on SH1 and thought to myself how pretty the ocean looked today before realising how far inland I was and thanking the God Of Duh that there was no one else in my car at that time to hear that comment.

Lake Taupo; The Great Lake

The road to Taupo contains far too many distractions, the next one being the Huka Jet. We followed the sign in to check out how much it would cost and found ourselves handing over money in its various forms to get ourselves on the next ride. I have no idea how that happened. I should really learn to contain my impulse purchasing. Its cool though, I think it's a tad expensive for what it is but the guy who drove the boat was hilarious and, along with a few 360 degree spins we got up close with the stunning Huka Falls.

Huka Falls At 90% Flow

They're not stunning in the classic sense of a beautiful waterfall cascading down an ancient rock face into a tranquil plunge pool below, they're short but roaring falls that you daren't go anywhere near on account of the definate drowning that would occur. They open the dam at 10am, 12pm, 2pm and 4pm every day and these are the times to go and see them. We saw them at 90% flow and the most striking thing is the colour of the water.

And so onwards it was into the town itself where we got distracted by the parasailers. I'd already done it in Paihia but Andi shouted me another go because she didn't want to go on her own so we went and got ourselves dragged behind a boat at 800ft for a while.

Once we were safely back on ground we got some information about the famous Tongariro Crossing from a man in tourist information who had never done the crossing himself but had been talking about it for the last four years so clearly he was an authority on the subject. Gotta love scripting. Then we headed to Reid's Farm which is currently a free campsite next to a river pretty close to the town.

It awesome, one of a kind. Its regulary checked on by security so there wouldn't be a repeat of Dickey Flats and they ask you to fill out a questionare about the site, whether you would pay for the site, if so how much and the killer question; Do you think it should become a commercial campsite?

Keep Reids Farm informal.

written by  Koala Bear on January 21, 2009 from Taupo, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Tiny Little NZ Road Trip
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Mt Ngauruhoe (Mt Doom)

Mt Ruapehu

Scenic flights are on offer in Rotorua but I couldn't afford two and I'd had my little heart set on a flight over Tongariro National Park.

Correct decision.

Mountain Air run three levels of scenic flights in a little fixed wing aircraft with a propeller on the front. We opted for the $145 middle flight which would take us over the Tongariro Crossing which we'd be doing sometime over the next couple of days. It's fucking beautiful. Once Andi had gotten over the fact that she thought the pilot looked too young to be able to fly a plane we were off into the air. The pilot did tell us what was what as we flew over but I was too busy drooling on the window to hear him, I'm pretty sure my greasy little face will remain imprinted on the window of that aircraft for a while.

You can actually climb Mt Ngauruhoe but we'd been told in Taupo that it was a difficult, steep climb and looking at it from the air we couldn't see a single accessible path. It lives up to it's alter ego, Mt Doom. Just on looks alone, even on a sunny day like today you can look at it and imagine it being the setting for the end of the world as we know it.

I reckon I'll cme back here in the winter and fly over it again, just to see what it looks like under a blanket of snow.

Once our 25 minutes was up we continued to National Park village and tried to check into Howard's Lodge but were informed by a fat bloke that we were too early and no, we couldn't just chill there until 2pm and no, he didn't know what we could do for two hours to kill time unless we told him what we wanted to do. Rude fucker. If he didn't have my credit card details we'd have left and found somewhere else, National Park is made entirely of accommodation so I doubt we'd have had too much trouble finding somewhere.

Anyway, once 2 o' clock rolled round he told us that we should probably do the Crossing tomorrow on account of the weather forcast being a bit better than the Saturday. We booked out transport and mentally prepared ourselves as best as you can for a 19km walk.

This was so gonna hurt.

Talking of hurt, you'll also notice the lack of bungee action in this here Taupo post. That would be because Andi went and bottled it, she decided that no way would she be able to throw herself off a bridge so she forfeited the bet and is now officially my Bitch until she flies back to Auckland on the 27th. It also means I get to clog up National Park's drainage system with the small forest in my nether regions via the less painful means of shaving.

And for future reference, if I ever try and make a bet with you whilst under the influence of goon, especially if it involves me potentially waxing any part of my body, please, for the sake of my pain threshold, just confiscate my glass and send me to bed.

written by  Koala Bear on January 22, 2009 from National Park, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Tiny Little NZ Road Trip
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Fresh And Ready To Go

Sounds easy. It's not, especially given that I'd just spent 6 months sat in a call centre eating cookies. The only exercise I'd got was the walk to the vending machine and back and a small amount of eye rolling whilst dealing with customers. Not good preparation.

We got off to a good start though, there were a few inclines but nothing we couldn't handle, it wasn't too bad and we made it to Soda Springs with only minor sweating and loss of breath. So far so good. We celebrated with sandwiches. Nothing though, and I mean nothing can prepare you for the next stage of the walk.

Knackered Already

Quick Tourist Stop

Part Of The Devil's Staircase

Utterly Destroyed

Come An Av A Go If Ya Think Ya Ard Enough!

It honestly feels like its never going to end but you know it is, that's what keeps you going. You could always turn back and scav a lift of a stranger at the start of the walk but why do that? It has to end at some point. It has to.
You finally make it to the Saddle and collapse in a sweaty, trembling heap onto the rocks, trying to regain control of your lungs as your life's breath seeps from you with every aching gasp...

OK, just me then. everyone else took a quick swig of water and decided if they were going to attempt the 3 hour round trip to the summit of Mt Ngauruhoe. A guy had passed Andi on the way up and the following exchange took place:

Guy: Your friend's struggling a bit back there.
Andi: Yeah I know.
Guy: Must be all that metal weighing her down.

Funny bastard.

And Photo Number 24,587 Of Mt Doom. Starstruck? Us?

If we had any inclination to attempt Mt Doom that bonfire was well and truely pissed on as we sat at the bottom looking up. We'd pretty much decided in Taupo that, movie star or not, neither of us was fit enough to do it. The walk isn't marked and the climb is proper steep, well out of the question given my inability to get DOWN hills. I have a tendency to slide down on my arse on account of my theory that you can't fall off the floor (just small, plastic trays on wheels only slightly higher than the floor) and I don't own any trousers than can take that degree of sliding.

Fair enough really, its Mt Doom, not Mt Happy Joy from "My Little Ponies Go To New Zealand." We continued on the walk, up another killer slope designed to destroy any remaining shred of energy I might have had left to the highest point of the walk, Red Crater. And yep, it's most definately red as I noticed once I'd dragged myself to the edge.

The Red Crater

Not Even Halfway There Yet

But once you're up you have to get down and as previously mentioned, going down hills aint my forte. Especially hills with loose, sandy/gravelly footing and a steep slope to either side when you're about as sure footed as a crippled giraffe. Have you ever started something you really wish you hadn't? It was hell. I wanted to just sit down and cry and the only reason I didn't was that it wouldn't have gotten me off that fucking mountain any sooner. At that moment, I'd have given everything I had just for a helicopter to come and lift me off the side and drop me at the nearest pub.

Less Than Impressed

Emerald Lake

But again, it had to end at some point so I hardened the fuck up and got to the bottom to the Emerald Lake feeling like I should be awarded some kind of medal. Not in the best of moods at this point but still, we werent even halfway to the end.
The rest of the walk is pretty uneventful. If anything its boring. Eventually you wind your way down to Ketetahi Hut and as gentle as the slope it, fuck it hurts. By the time we left the hut to finish the last two hours Andi was in a lot of pain. All you want is for it to level out and finish, we were so over it. Glad we'd done it but totally and utterly over it.

Tongariro National Park

We made it to the end just in time to get the shuttle bus back. 15 minutes later and we'd have been buggered. I can't say it it was the best day of my life but yeah, if you're fitter than me (and bear in mind I have the fitness level of a lazier than average sloth) its well worth it and for me it was good preparation for when my sister comes over in February and attempts to kill me. She's a personal trainer and I've asked her to get me into shape and she intends to do this with power walking, swimming, body weight resistance circuits and something called yomping which is apparently brisk walking interspersed with jogging.
Fuck me it even sounds painful! She's got her work cut out anyways. And here she was thinking she was coming away on holiday.

Once we were back at the hostel we showered and soaked in the hot tub and I vowed never to move again.

Made It!

The nice people at the visitors centre informed me that I could see the crater on a five hour round trip, the walk isn't marked so you have to find your own way up and did I have good tramping boots and cramp ons on account of all the snow and ice? I don't even know what a cramp on is let alone know how to use one and as for finding my own way? I can't even find my way home without clear directions and a GPS system so I opted for the chair lift to 2020 metres and the 1.5 hour return walk to the top to look at the lake from afar.

Going Up...

View From The Chair Lift

And here's another difference between NZ and Australia. In Oz, when you're given an estimated walk time you can safely shave a good few minutes off it as those times are generous and probably relate to the eldery or otherwise slower than me. In New Zealand you can assume that the estimated time given only applies to you if in fact you hail from the planet Krypton and have a penchant for wearing your underwear on the outside. I generally have to add at least half an hour to allow for the gasping.

And so I dropped Andi back at home and eventually found myself up the side of a volcano wondering what made me think that climbing up aforementioned volcano might be fun for someone with a passion for vodka and sitting down when the day previous they'd dragged their out of shape carcass on a 19km hike.

Meh.

Chilling, Quite Literally, In The Snow

From what I can gather, Mt Ruapehu is the most active of the park's three volcanos and Crater Lake changes temperature according to the level of volcnic activity. It last erupted in 1996 and you can see pictures of it once you get to the top of the ski lifts. Mt Ngauruhoe hasn't erupted since the 70's but previous to that it erupted roughly every nine years so they reckon it's overdue an explosion.

Comforting.

It was kinda fun though, I told myself at the start that I'd climb as far as one hour would allow me which would give me plenty of time to get down including time needed to stop, have a cry and want my mum. And there's snow! I haven't seen snow for ages and y'know what? It's still as cold and wet as I remember it being.

Eventually my one hour was up, a guy coming down told me that it'd probably take me another 45 minutes to get to the top which would mean about 90 minutes in my world and then I'd have to get down and the last chair lift was at 4pm... Nah sod it. I built a little snowman and headed back down.

Denise The Snowdyke

And yes I know its got no arms. There's no twigs at that level. Its a quadraplegic snowman. And it's only a foot tall on account of the fact snow is really fucking cold and I wanted to retain the feeling in my fingers. I called it Denise because... erm... my mate Denise said I should. So really it's more of a snowdyke. A 1ft tall, quadraplegic snowdyke.

You don't see many of them up volcanos now do ya.

written by  Koala Bear on January 24, 2009 from National Park, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Tiny Little NZ Road Trip
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The Fun Bus

After they'd picked it up we headed out down the Banks Peninsula on account of the fact you can swim with dolphins down IN Akaroa. They're not very big dolphins, they're Hector dolphins, the smallest in the world and they're only found in New Zealand so we got ourselves kitted out in some very fetching wetsuits and sailed out to find some.

This is the most chilled out swim tour I've been on, usually you're handed a mask, snorkel and a pair of flippers and are thrown in the water and instructed to keep up with creatures more suited to the water than you resulting in a flailing mass of limbs as the animal rolls its eyes and pisses off to the depths again. This is a VIP tour, the dolphins come to you, its more of a float tour than a swim tour. Its fucking awesome, we saw heaps and they come right up to you.

After a good hour floating around and seranading dolphins with renditions of Katy Perry through my snorkel we got back onto the boat and headed back to land then onto our camp for the night which was a well cheap place at Amberley Beach. Shane was happy, he decided we were out in the wild despite the street lighting, electric hook up point, full phone signal and flushing toilets.

Ha, just wait til I introduce them to long drops.

written by  Koala Bear on February 3, 2009 from Akaroa, New Zealand
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Goose Bay

Rained Off

So it was pretty much an afternoon of drinking beer (me and Shane) and Nintendo DS (Nat) and making a vague plan of where we wanted to go and what we wanted to do. Eventually we dragged Nat away from her DS kicking and screaming to go and look at some seals because I'm a perpetual tourist and must do stuff all the time. Last time I went seal bothering it was grey and miserable an all. I now associate seals with crap weather.

Spot The Seal

On A Mission For Seals

Anyway, tomorrow the exercise would begin. Nat has plans for me that include something called Yomping which is apparently power walking interspersed with 60 seconds of jogging and I was talked into this after she threatened to take me jogging.

Right. Like thats ever going to happen.

written by  Koala Bear on February 4, 2009 from Kaikoura, New Zealand
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I'm so doomed.

But on a brighter note the whale watching was on today albeit with seasickness warnings so I prepared myself for the fact that Kaikoura might just find out what the inside of me looks like. Ginger tablets were on sale in the gift shop but we stayed away from the hippy shit and nommed a tablet from the chemists each.

Obligatory Tail Shot

The highlight of the tour is the sperm whale, they average about two per trip but we saw five so we were well chuffed with that. And here's why they're called the sperm whale and no, it's not the reason the sea is salty. Back in the day, when they first caught one they pulled it in and when they opened up its head, litres of this milky looking oil gushed out. So being simple men and probably a bit pissed they decided that it must be the whale's sperm and, of course, what better place to keep your spunk than in your head, right? This theory was well and truly pissed on when they caught a female sperm whale and she had a head full of the same oil.
I don't know why they have a head full of oil that apparently looks like jizz but yeah, that's how they got their name.

Spot The Whale

The seasick pills worked and we retained the contents of our guts and headed back to land then onto Hanmer Springs where we spent the night at a campsite not far from the township. And and and! They had a trampoline! Not that I'm any good at trampolining beyond bouncing up and down and graceful is not a word that could accurately describe aforementioned bouncing as good as I think I look.

I don't look good. I look good in the stills but I watched the video back and I look like I'm having a fucking fit and not once did my feet hit the deck before my arse while I was attempting somersaults.

Aaaanyway, enough about my athletic shortcomings. The most energetic thing I'd have to do tomorrow would be walking to the hot pools and back. Definately more my league.

Sunset Over Hanmer Springs

So no sooner had I got the smell of sulphur out of my togs we found ourselves up to our necks in a geothermal spring. Clearly sulphur is my future now. I shall return to Auckland reeking of eggs while people cross the road to avoid me. They'll smell me coming a mile off, take a minute to work out if the drains are backing up before realising its just me and getting the nose pegs out. Ah well, at least I'll be able to scoop a fart out and no one will know the difference.

Sitting In A Bath Of Arse Getting Nommed On By Flies. Fun.

Maruia Springs

Then it was onwards to a campsite near Franz Josef called Okarito where you can rent overpriced kayaks or go kiwi stalking at night. The kiwi stalking guy only goes 5 nights out of 7 and tonight was one of his nights off but he told us where to walk, what time was best and what to listen for although by now it had started drizzling. Still, if you don't go out you ain't gonna see them ay.

Obligatory Kiwi Sign Photo

So once again we found ourselves walking in the rain in search of NZ wildlife, this time in the dark with my pitiful excuses for torches. And we didn't find any kiwis either, its really hard to listen for footsteps in the leaves when there's rain falling on the leaves. So basically we went for a walk in the dark up a random hill and sat there for 20 minutes listening to the rain and pretending that they were kiwi footsteps we were hearing.

We headed back to the fun bus, banished my swimsuit to the roof of my car and settled in for the night.

written by  Koala Bear on February 6, 2009 from Maruia Springs, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Tiny Little NZ Road Trip
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