Jenny's Trek Down Under

Well, I awoke thursday morning in high spirits excited to escape the humdrum life of the valley and see more that this country has to offer. Jen, Pippa and myself were off on a two day trip to Rotorua sans Jon or Dagmar--so this would be our first real roadtrip without the parentals and we couldn't have been any more excited. Before hitting the roads we made a quick stop at Pak n' save (the local grocery market chain) to load up on food for the trip...but no joke I am in love with this place not only is it ridiculously cheap, but sales tax is already included in everything in this damn country...so when something is 9.99 it is just in fact 9.99 okay I lied again...there are no 1 cent or 5 cent pieces so in reality it's $10NZ...but still. I also stopped at Warehouse, NZ's version of walmart and got a new watch seeing as how my luxurious name brand Pearl Jardin airport watch somehow broke.
We made a stop along the way in Mattamatta aka land of the hobbits where of course we took the obligatory tourist picture next to a makeshift replica of a hobbit home from Lord of The Rings. That evening we stayed at the Spa Lodge, my first real hostelling experience to date and so far I must admit the standards have been set pretty high. Between the overly friendly asian host who made us feel right at home and our own private three bedroom room I was ready to unload our gear and explore this supposed las vegas of new zealand town.
On our self guided three hour tour of Rotorua we strolled around the lake, went to Kairoa Park, saw the oldest Marae church (150 years) , went to the Government botanical gardens and finished off with a bit of individual time spent exploring the downtown--which for me meant getting lost, spending a good 20 minutes trying to get this nice Indian man to give me directions to amhaust street which I managed to severely butcher in pronunciation and then a good hour was spent at some clothing store called supree probably meant for 13/14 year old girls yet I had an enjoyable time trying on god awful outfits that screamed preteen and lindsay lohan wannabe--so all and all it was a most fulfilling afternoon.
Anyways, back to the walk around the lake--it was seriously like travelling through prehistoric times with water bubbling its way through sulphuric rock creating steam that hovered over the water and every now and then got swept away in a gentle summer breeze that left the top of the water dancing in ripple formations under the wind. The ever present smell of rotten eggs wafting in the air was present as were an abundance of black ducks with their heads tucked in underneath their bodies, floating in circles, seagulls scattered across the bits of beachy shore, eerily flattened beds of grass and black swans that resembled dinosaurs with red beaks that navigated their way through the sulphur infested waters in groups. These swans were just unreal with necks twice the length of your typical swan that moved in this awkward motion that can only be described as reminiscent of an inchworm, all the while these black beautiful creatures let out ungodly squaking noises that conjured up images of a trumpet being played out of tune. If you squinted your eyes just right you could have sworn that you were looking at a bunch of lochness monsters. Between the shore and where the swans were swimming in the water were seaweed deposits that were pretty thick clouding up the otherwise grayish waters.
That evening Pippa and I headed out to explore the nightlife and what a 'rocking' nightlife it was...we started the night out at a pub called hennesy's which was a quaint irish bar with a couple of geisers strumming away on some banjos belting out some faintly reminiscent version of 'oh danny boy' all the while there were middle aged folks laughing up a storm on one side and young 20 somethings trying to get laid on the other side of the bar...and yet Pippa and I decided to sit right in the middle of the bar--metaphorically bridging the gap between old and young, but more because we were utterly amused by the coasters the table had that had these highly amusing cartoons on them. from there we headed to a more sophsticated bar which was full of the early 30s lawyer types who were trying to scheme on underage girls and a rather enjoyable band singing 80s covers that I annoyingly sang aloud to each and everyone as Pippa the young'n that she is just smiled and nodded. Finally the night was capped off by a trip to the dirty mole, a bar which felt like it housed all the kids who were picked last for dodgeball as well as all the overly tattooed locals.
On the drive home from rotorua all I could think about was how I can't explain exactly what it is about NZ whether its the people, the landscape, the lack of congestion of everyday life, the laidback lifestyle or just how different it is than anything I know that really resonates with me. Cows that look like little figurines strategically placed atop rolling hills, narrowing roads lined with trees with branches cascading over the road blocking out the light except for the occasional ray of sunshine that manages to penetrate its way through the branched forest canopy.