Oh-so-scary bathrooms
Have I already written about this? I can’t seem to remember….
Have you ever had to use a bathroom that had automatic doors? In order to enter Havelock North’s public restrooms, you must push a green button; a stainless steel door then slides open, whereupon a man’s voice advises that you have 10 minutes to finish your business before the door will automatically open. Following this announcement, canned elevator music comes on to enhance your toilet experience, I suppose. The t.p. is dispensed automatically, the faucet is by sensors, the soap by sensors, the hand dryer is by sensors. As I was doing my business, trying to not get freaked out by the whole experience, I glanced up to see hand prints on the aforementioned door; what did this indicate to me? That some poor schmuck couldn’t figure out how to open the door. I could just imagine him attempting to move the door, shouting, pounding…then, hopefully, finally realizing that he had but to push the green button again to leave. I’d hate for that door to ever malfunction. Stuck in a public toilet, what good times that would be!
In this issue:
--tramping Mt. Doom of LotR
--kayaking
--zorbing
--skydiving
--Merry Christmas
All in 1 week!
To finish telling the story of our time @ Liz’s (WWOOFing hostess on Lake Tarawera, near Rotorua): we cleaned & cleaned & cleaned, attended a couple neighborhood parties, hung out w/ WWOOFers from other houses, w/ whom we went tramping (during which time Toby took gads of pictures & did some hilarious LotR impressions) up a mountain & down steel hills, trespassing on farmland the entire way. The next day (the 22nd), we went kayaking on the lake w/ Simone, a girl from Austria, during which time we sang Christmas carols & compared Christmas celebrations and wore Santa hats.
The day we left Liz’s, Toby caught a ride w/ us to go zorbing, which is, more-or-less, like being packed into a hamster ball & rolled down a hill, which is as utterly ridiculous and uniquely NZ as it sounds. In fact, the word was contrived by “orb” for the plastic-looking ball, w/ a “z” stuck on the front for NZ. Of course, we had to go for the full effect, & chose hydro-zorbing, meaning water was added into the ball, the 3 of us were in there, just blobbing all around, really. As I said, completely silly, but fun.
Then, we were off for Taupo, b/c that’s where the cheapest skydiving in the world takes place. On our way, we passed Huka Falls, phenomenal not for its height or breadth, but for its power & the translucent, icy blue color of the water, which is enthralling. When we stopped on a rocky outcropping, gazing into the turbulent rapids created by forcing 120 cubic meters of water per second (cms) through a narrow channel, you could feel the draw, the pull of the fascinating water, that you wished desperately that you could jump in & not die. Crazy people can kayak @ 80 cms & under, which is insane, when you look @ the power of the regurgitating water & the holes; still, I envy them. We spent the night @ a free campground, waiting for our skydiving trip the following day, on Christmas Eve.
Thus, Christmas Eve day was spent lounging about the information site, waiting for our skydiving adventure to begin, esp since our original 10:30 a.m. time was postponed, due to poor weather. Thankfully, the clouds cleared up enough for us to go @ 1. We were supposed to be picked up in a limo, but of course there was something wrong w/ it. We did, however, enjoy their free, drip coffee, the 1st non-instant we’ve had since arrival in NZ! Couldn’t drink too much of it, though, b/c I didn’t want to worry about having to pee while dressed in a jumpsuit & harness, @ 15,000’!! Interestingly enough, there was no safety instruction whatsoever, just an extremely short medical form/person-to-notify sheet to sign, not really even a waiver (I love NZ)!
It was odd to be on the receiving end of being harnessed up, as I was by my jumpmaster Reno, of British Columbia, who had a flaky/ditzy laugh. Liz’s jumpmaster didn’t inspire much initial confidence; when her harness was checked by someone else, he asked who’d harnessed her. She pointed, & the guy replied, “oh, he’s new,” to which she, unsurprisingly, responded w/ an absolutely horrified look.
So, after minimal instruction again (put your hands on your harness @ a certain time, then remove later), it was our turn to load into our Pepto-Bismol- colored aircraft. The view, of course, was gorgeous; we were even able to see a snow-capped volcano (Ruapehu?). We were also able to watch the 12,000’ skydivers disappear into the void as they exited the aircraft ahead of us, which was a bit freakier than going ourselves. After all, one minute they’re there, the next moment, they’re gone. After donning our useless helmets (a bit of cloth that mostly succeeded in keeping my hair back) & being strapped into our jumpmasters’ laps, it was our turn.
Anticipation was definitely one of the most exciting parts of the entire endeavor, watching that green light blink on, just like the movies, then easily slipping out of the aircraft, feeling the chilled air rushing at your face, drying your lips & making your mouth flap, checking out the view, not thinking of much of anything, just enjoying yourself as you freefall from 15,000’, for an entire minute, at 250 km/hr. J Then, I felt the dip as the parachute was deployed, was able to lick some moisture into my lips again, & floated around, w/ a calm descent, nothing to it, at least on my part—perhaps the jumpmaster has greater problems. Even when you land, it doesn’t seem as though the ground is rushing at you, though that’s the way it looks to others.
Both Liz & I had similar reactions, that it wasn’t a huge adrenaline rush, or a huge thrill—are we becoming jaded, too used to extreme activities? Perhaps b/c we so easily trusted our equipment & our guides, just knowing everything would be fine (ah, that youthful belief in one’s own immortality is rearing its head again!)? we think bungee jumping would provide more of a rush, knowing you have to take that step off the platform, & that you’re closer to the ground. But, we did it, we had fun, & it was a great Christmas present to ourselves. Woo-hoo! Merry Christmas to us!
After much debate, we finally came up w/ a plan for the following day—we’d originally planned to do a 3-day backpacking trip around the Northern Circuit, but we had to cancel b/c of poor weather & nothing being open to give us passes, it being Christmas Day & all. So, we drove to Whakapapa (the wh is pronounced like an F, so we had a great time saying the name a few times), & spent Christmas Day at the Grand Chateau, utilizing their facilities, & feeling out-of-place among the Christmas revelers so smartly attired for their Christmas lunch, as we gazed out the window @ the cold rain drizzling down throughout the day. We did, however, get to open a Christmas gift, from our WWOOFer hostess Liz, who’d sent along some chocolate—thanks! Clive Cussler kept me entertained for a while, & we also watched part of “King Kong,” until we couldn’t take it anymore & went on a walk instead.
The following day, we tramped the Tongariro Circuit, the best day-hike in the nation, supposedly. We even saved 10 bucks on bus fare by starting on the muddy section from Whakapapa, which most everybody skips. Even starting from there, we made great time, completing 24 kms (~14 miles) in 6 hrs, w/ a 2500’ (or meter?) elevation gain. During this hike, we saw incredible scenery, obviously, including the Emerald Lakes & Mt. Doom, of LotR fame. We were Sam & Frodo for a time, pushing on up the rocky volcano, eventually by-passing it, tramping through Mordor. Pretty cool, eh?
So that’s the story of our Christmas. How was yours? Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Happy Holidays!
We are now farther south, killing time @ another WWOOFing place until we can catch the ferry to the S. island. The family & assorted others are very laid-back, mellow, feed us good food, warm beds, near the beach (went today, quite windy & not warm), watched a couple movies, some internet access, new books to read, went on a jog through streams on a great track, can’t complain.
