Rotorua and Auckland Again

Everything after Wellington was gonna be downhill, because it was the coolest city ever. Obviously I didn't know that when I planned the trip though, or I would have scheduled more time there. Instead, I was off to my last real destination on the trip...Rotorua. I almost didn't even go there, but everyone I had discussed NZ with said it wouldn't be a compete trip unless I did. It's the center of Maori culture apparently, and full of geothermal areas that were apparently pretty cool. So, I went.

I sorta wish I hadn't.

Nothing bad happened or anything. It's actually a nice place. It was just boring...partly cuz of the weather, but mostly cuz I'm incredibly lazy sometimes. It's not like this trip had been really intense or anything...to be honest, I really hadn't done much at all. It was the first trip I've ever gone on where I didn't go completely gung-ho the entire time, and it was relaxing. I think I got a little too into that vibe in Rotorua, cuz...I didn't do much of anything.

I arrived around noon or so, and proceeded...to watch UFC 98 on my laptop. Hey, I'm an addict, leave me alone. It was pouring ass rain anyway, so walking didn't look stupidly appealing. After that was over and the rain let up, I went for a walk down to the lake, which is pretty damn nice. But, since this is me and not a normal person talking, something had to go wrong.

I'm chillin on a bench, minding my own business, when a...gaggle? of black swans swam over and jumped onto the dock, probably 15 feet in front of me. Pretty cool lookin, and big mofos too. I sat there and observed them for a bit, till one veered outta the pack, and walked towards me. No big deal, right? It's just a swan. It's not a Rarotongan pig or anything. I was getting my camera ready to take a pic of my new friend, and shit went sideways. I dunno why, but as soon as I took the camera out, he threw it into hyperdrive and in no time, he was right beside me.

And unhappy.

Since I have very little experience with swans, but a healthy fear of anything that's black (JUST KIDDING!), I attempted to exit the bench. As I did, the little fucker bit me! Or tried to, anyway. He sorta gripped onto my pant leg and gave a few tugs, before I realized exactly what was happening. And you know where it always goes from there, if you've ever read any of my other blogs...
Scream like girl, run for life.

Why the fuck do animals always attack me? What did I do to them? Did I go one too many zoos, and they feel exploited? Did they circulate my picture around the animal kingdom, with an "approach and bite immediately" command attached? What the hell? It's not like I even provoked the fucking thing, unless he's camera shy or something. Either way, fuck swans. And pigs.

So, after that little Rotoruran experience, I immediately hated this place. When I hate somewhere, I do what all mature adults do...head straight to the liquor store, then to my hotel for the night to enjoy rugby. And I watched Juno, and thought it was funny. Don't hate. Haters. Oh, one more thing happened - I ordered Domino's. It's sort of unusual for me, but I didn't feel like going back out. I know you don't give a shit what I ate, but it sets up a story where I look stupid the next day, so I'm sure you can cut me some slack.

So...the next day. The weather was much nicer, so I decided to walk over to the mud park. I doubt it's actually called that, but it was the only redeeming quality of the park - bubbling mud pits. Once I got to Rotorua, I realized that all the fancy geothermal activities that are actually cool cost a looootta money. I still had a fair amount of coin left, but didn't really feel like parting with a chunk of it to see mud geysers, when free mud ripples were just up the street. Leave me alone, it made sense at the time, okay?

The park was pretty cool. I forgot to mention that, because of all the geothermal activity, the whole city smelled like sulfur. Or rotten eggs, take your pick. At my hotel down by the lake, it wasn't so bad. This park though...wow. My nose felt like it had been assaulted. It was unreal. Luckily I didn't bring a snack to eat, because there's no way I would have been able to stomach it. So, the whole park is just paths that wind through mud lakes. Some just steam, some bubble, some are practically erupting. The steam is so thick you can barely see your way around, which made it pretty eery and cool.

After all the park excitement, I walked the long way back to the hotel, through the center of town. And it was Ledger. Really Ledger.

*Writer's tangent*

What does Ledger mean? It means dead. DEAD. I started using it in my Jasper blog, and it makes me laugh every time I think about it, so I'm keeping it. I could update it to a more contemporary death for each blog, like "Jackson" or "Fawcett", but Ledger is more fitting. My stories, my death reference!

*Tangent over*

So yea, there was nothing going on. It was sunday afternoon...I shoulda guessed that, but oh well. I went into a restaurant and asked where a convenience store was, and was directed to the "dairy" down the street. Dairy = convenience store in New Zealand. See, I know all the slang. I'm cool like that.
So, after grabbing some water and walking around for a while longer, I walked back to my hotel. I hadn't approached the hotel from this side yet, and found something that was amusing and annoying at the same time - a Pizza Hut. ATTACHED TO THE HOTEL. The night before, I had paid a 9 dollar delivery change to get a pizza brought to my room by Domino's...and the fucking Pizza Hut was no more than 150 feet from my room. My own stupidity usually makes me laugh though, so it's all good.

Other than all that, there's not much else worth mentioning about Rotorua. It's nice n all, but it wasn't what I expected. I didn't see a single Maori there. I saw some stores that sold some Maori trinkets. There was a Maori hut thinger that they do shows at outside my hotel. That's about it. Doesn't calling it a "hut thinger" make me sound so cultured?

The next morning, I got up and ready to go catch my bus to Auckland. I didn't think this bus ride would be nearly as entertaining as my last one though, because I only spent a dollar on it. Yes, one dollar. A 4.5 hour bus ride for 1 dollar. Go New Zealand. I was expecting chickens and scabies to be coming along for the trip, but the bus wasn't that bad. It went through Hamilton though. Wow, that town's a shithole. Glad I didn't decide to go there (not that I, or anyone else that doesn't live there, would have any reason to). It also went through a town called Whatawhata, and by a car lot in it called "5999 and under". Why is that funny? We were stopped a light, so I got a good look at 15 cars or so. Yup, you guessed it...all over 5999.

So, back in Auckland. Same hotel, same weather, same mirror image of home. I knew this place so well by now, I gave 2 people directions. 10 bucks says they got lost, but that's not the point dammit. I guess I could have gone and done something new with my one day left in Auckland, but eff that. I vegged and watched TV. Got a good night's sleep, cuz the 12.5 hour flight to San Fran the next day was gonna blow. Guess what? It sure did blow. But the wait at the airport was funny.

I paid a few bucks for wifi at the airport, because I was there 4 hours early. So I'm sitting there, and a fucking stunner walks by. This woman was supermodel-gorgeous. I basically eye-raped her, but it was sooo worth it, because...as she was walking by, she looked back to see if someone was catching up to her....and walked directly into this huge helicopter ride for kids that was in front of her. She did a header right over the top of the thing, landed facefirst, and basically somersaulted through to finish on her back, laying flat out. Everyone else went silent...I laughed. Loud. For a long time. I got a ton of dirty looks for that, but fuck it, IT WAS HILARIOUS. It would have won the 10k on America's Funniest Videos every damn week.

So, after laughing at that for a solid 3 hours, I finally boarded. Had an exit row seat. So far, so good. Then my serenity was destroyed by the biggest fucking Tongan I've ever seen in my life. That doesn't really mean a lot, since I've only ever seen one Tongan in person, but just go with it. This guy was massive. His wife was sitting behind us for some reason. I offered to trade seats with her, but she didn't want to for some reason. Weird. Anyway, the wifey was from San Fran and spoke english just fine. My new friend to my left? Nyet. Not a lick of english. Had never left Tonga until earlier that morning. Wooboy.

He has NO IDEA what was going on. Seatbelts? Tray tables? Armrests? White people? All of this was completely foreign to him. I'm not even being racist or anything either. His wife actually said "All of this stuff is completely foreign to him."

This is what made it so odd to me that his wife didn't want to sit next to him. Maybe she just didn't want to have to explain all this stuff to him, and decided to leave it to me. So I've got a guy that's easily 3 inches taller and 50 pounds heavier than me, completely tattoo'd, and hopelessly clueless about THE WORLD sitting next to me. I had to help him with everything. The TV screen pulled up from underneath the seat, and it was like fucking magic to him. He looked like a 6 year old opening the coolest Christmas present of all time. I was trying not to laugh, because I know that Tongans are fucking savages when they're angry (pun intended). So yeah...isuch a weird flight.

At hour 8 of 12, I started getting uncomfortable and bored. I dunno if you've ever flown anywhere for that long, but at a certain point you just hit your limit. You can only distract yourself for so long, then it becomes readily apparent that you are fucking hating life at that moment, and nothing is going to change for the next _ hours. For me, the blank was 4. I was fucking miserable. I was shifting in my seat every 10 seconds, nothing on the entertainment system could hold my attention, and obviously I couldn't sleep. I nearly went out of my fucking mind. I just sat there and watched my watch, while the Tongan watched me. It was...odd. To say the least.

FINALLY I got to San Francisco. I got to my hotel at 2:30pm. I was asleep by 3pm. And I didn't wake up until 5am the next day. Yup, I'm a sleeping machine. Got up, went to the airport, and started to type the first entry of the NZ blog on the comfy flight home. And I was pretty amused by my welcome home present.

My boss picked me up from the airport, around 10am. As soon as I got into his truck, he gave me a Pilsner! "Drink this". Yes sir! Two more of those in the 15 minute drive back to work, and I was fucking flying. After that, I located 6 people in 5 hours. Maybe morning beers are the key to tracing success!

So...overall, what did I think of the places I went? Well, the Cook Islands are...interesting. I was amazed by the scenery of the island and the people were awesome. It was very cool getting to see how Island Life works, in a place that's not polluted with American culture (eg. Hawaii). Some people could stay there forever...me, not so much. Heat and beach life aren't for me. I'm a city boy. For a South Pacific stopover though, I highly recommend it. Awesome place.

As for New Zealand - I absolutely loved it. Couldn't give it higher marks. I feel like I was able to get a good feel for both islands, and notice the small cultural differences in each. The south island felt more laid back, and the weather was certainly colder. The north was more cosmo and stuffy, but I still enjoyed it a lot. I didn't go to Christchurch, which is apparently the stuffy capital of the south island, so that could be why I came away with those impressions.

The people were amazingly helpful and friendly, more than anywhere else I've ever been. Even more than home, which surprised me. They also face many of the same social challenges that Canada does, which is something I didn't expect at all. For instance, there is a lot of tension with the huge population of Pacific Islanders and Maori in New Zealand. You could almost call it racism, but it doesn't seem that outright. The Islanders and Maori situation there is startlingly similar to the First Nations situation in Canada. I'm not going to get political, cuz you came here to read the funny, not the serious...but the similarities blew me away.

So, while New Zealand does have it's issues, it's a lot like home - a fucking great place to visit and live. It's also a lot cheaper than home, which made it an even better destination. I definitely want to go back someday and check out the stuff I missed (go jager bombs)...and just to hang out there again. I've never really been anywhere else that made me want to stay so bad. I didn't feel like a tourist there, really. I felt at ease, and I loved it. So people, if you ever get the chance to go...DO IT. Fuck Australia. It's all about New Zealand.

Kia Orana.