For those that are concerned for my safety I apologize for my delay in posts. I have no excuse except that I am a lazy bastard. Thus, I have much to catch you all up on so let’s get started.
Ali and I spent our last night in Auckland attending a Rugby game. Essentially, take everything wrong with American Football and subtract it. You’re left with Rugby, a much more aggressive, dangerous and intense sport. Not to mention shorter as the play stops for nothing, not even the injured. Courtesy of the guys around us we began to grasp the rules and cheered on the hometown team who ultimately came out on top. Although like most good sporting events its not about whether you win or lose its about how drunk you get. A very attainable goal when the bar you’re at has 2 for 1 drink specials. The segments of memory that remain of that night are of me whipping out some ‘white boy meets crippled gorilla’ type dance moves, an unfortunate Lady Gaga impression followed by me telling various strangers I was a lesbian baby stealer from Vietnam. All of which very classy moments.
However, it was not without punishment as we rose to meet a hangover equivalent to the wrath of a million angry gods. Our bus to Waitomo left super early so we drunkenly packed our bags in the dark. A near impossible feat considering the room was a mess and I could see double of everything (How do I know which one to pack!?). Eventually, we staggered off to the bus station where I slept on the curb. The bus ride was 3 and a half hours but I only remember 5 minutes, all of them horrible. Once we had arrived at Waitomo and dragged ourselves off the bus the driver took one look at us and told us to stop drinking. We slumped away to the nearest hostel where a woman at the front desk subtly announced “Whoa you guys must be hungover!”(Really what gave it away?). Feeling o-so attractive I curled into the fetal position appearing to be on the verge of hospitalization and remained as such for the next 16 hours.
Seemingly, the following morning I rose from the dead feeling like a shiny new penny. Ali and I decided to embark on Waitomo’s main attraction: blackwater rafting through underground glowworm caves. Yes, it is as awesome as it sounds. Basically, once you get all sexified in the fashionable wetsuit, gumboots and flashlight helmet attire you journey on through farmland to an unassuming hole in the ground. Squeeze your way through the slim dark hole by way of a giant ladder (that’s what she said) and enter an amazing underground lair. Illuminated by flashlight, you witness a world of shattered rock formations creating winding tunnels to scour and broken walls to climb. Minerals collect on the ceilings of the cave and drip into hundreds of pointed rock formations seeming like bony fingers slowly reaching down towards you. A ways into the caves icy water lies, home to eels, sewer rats and other cuddly species of the sorts. Cringing, you uneasily enter the gasping cold water. Flashlights are turned off and fears soon forgotten as the cave ceiling glows with what looks like captured stars . Stars that are, in reality, glowworm poo. Moreover, the magnificent glowing poo lights your way as you climb aboard an inner tube and float seamlessly through massive dark tunnels. Regardless of its nature, the combination of the carnivorous jaw-like appearance of the cave and the thousands of brilliantly luminous little bulbs that decorate it is one of the most strangely beautiful things I have ever seen.
Emerging from the caves we were met with warm rays of sun and the realization that we had totally missed the bus to our next destination. After moderate stressing and the throwing down of some much needed cash we booked our escape and headed to Rotorua.
Our time in Rotorua was primarily spent absorbing its cozy laidback atmosphere. Finding a home away from home in our newly favorite hostel, Crash Palace. Underground reggae music floats through this funky hostel in a great location with an amazing staff and an army of friendly animals are there for you in your time of pet deprivation. A perfect place for us animal loving hippie types.
In between apple bongs at our stoners paradise we ventured out to attempt Zorbing. Which is basically a massive hamster ball for people. You climb into a huge plastic sphere and roll down a hill, a meter of air cushioning you from any harsh impact. Furthermore, you can choose for them to add water into your Zorb, the downside to which means you wont roll head over heels. Ultimately, Ali and I did not bring a bathing suit so we requested the dry option. Naturally, we must learn everything the hard way as the slight breeze that gently drifted over the hill made it “too windy” to dry Zorb safely. For this reason, we climbed in fully clothed and rolled down the hill sloshing around uncontrollably. Ali described it best, commenting “it was like being a sock in a washing machine.” Meaning we should all be very envious of our socks because it was a lot of fun. Of course the fun subsided once we were dripping wet and freezing at the bus stop, still it was completely worth it.
The final night we had in Rotorua was one of our favorite memories of the trip thus far. All of it spent hanging out with our awesome roommates. We were bunking with a couple of Scottish guys who made up the band ‘Project 6’ so they treated us to a live show. These boys are extremely talented so I recommend to all those whose eyes skim these words to look them up and give them a listen as it will be more then worth your time. It was a night of music, cheap wine and ridiculous youtube videos. Perfect in every right as it reminded us of what it was like to have a good group of friends around that you just effortlessly click with. Begrudgingly, the next morning we left our lovable hostel and new found friends for the next stop on our journey, Taupo.
TO BE CONTINUED…Now go check out Project 6 at: http://soundcloud.com/search?q%5Bfulltext%5D=project+6
