A Breath of Fresh Air

I smelled it before I saw it. The unmistakable foul stench of rotten eggs signaled our approach into Rotorua, the geothermal city in the North Island of New Zealand. I instinctively pinched my nose with my fingers and looked over at my friend who had done exactly the same thing. We burst out giggling.
We had gotten on the bus just three hours earlier in Auckland where I was a law student at the university. A grueling first semester had just ended and I was eager to get out of the city—not just to escape the fast urban pace, but also because I desperately needed to get as far away as I could from my law books. In truth, I really wanted to get away from my thoughts and my increasing self-doubts about having gone to law school—and in New Zealand of all places.
Overwhelmed and stressed out, I badly needed the escape. But this time, instead of heading to the beach and partying with a bunch of other university kids, I decided to go along with my Fijian friend to Rotorua. My other friends tried to convince me that Raglan, a popular surfing town on the west side, was a far better choice than “Rotten-rua” as the sulfur-smelling town was also known.
As I stepped off the bus and was fully assaulted by the nauseating stench of sulfur, I wished I had listened to my friends. I could not imagine how the locals were able to stand breathing in this air every day. I also felt rather annoyed at the brochures that promised great experiences awaiting in such a pungent place.
My annoyance, however, was short-lived as it became clear that I had too quickly judged the city by its smell. The majestic redwood forest, the picturesque hillsides dotted with hundreds of sheep, the sapphire and emerald colored lakes, the spectacular volcanic landscape—nature’s artistry was so stunningly breathtaking that the offensive odor was easily forgotten. Even as I stood just yards away from the great Pohutu, the largest geyser in all of New Zealand, it was not the smell that stunned me. It was the mighty gush of hot water shooting up nearly 100 feet into the sky; it was the cloud of white steam that hissed from the opening in the ground as if Mother Earth was exhaling a deliberate sigh.
As I watched her erupt over and over again, I found myself inhaling this mysterious wonder and finally releasing a big sigh too. All my worries, all life’s questions and uncertainties will be there when I returned to Auckland. But here in Rotorua, Mother Nature was telling me to just BREATHE.