Taupo, New Zealand 3/6/05

Taupo, New Zealand 3/6/05

I have been traveling alone for about 2 days now. Well alone in the sense that I didn’t know any of the people with me prior to a day or so ago.

Before Taupo, Dave and I spent a relaxing 2 nights in Wellington, the days that if it wasn’t for my injury last month I would be doing my marathon over in New Plymouth. After Wellington, Dave went back to Sydney to visit with friends. We will meet back up in just a few days from now in Cairnes or Port Douglas, Australia for some diving on The Reef. Right now though that seems like a long time from now, and with as much activity as I have been packing into each day, 3 days is a long time.

Wellington was a cool city. It is the Capital of New Zealand and I found it very eclectic. I really liked it. The Cuban Street area was an odd mix of hoods, hippies, shoppers, tourists, and business people. The water front was unique and architecturally interesting; lots of odd shapes, stairs, and art.

I have found that the Mauri culture (the indigenous people of New Zealand) is tightly woven into modern New Zealand life. It was evident in Queenstown but even more so in the areas of the North Island that I have seen thus far. In Wellington it is a defining characteristic in their water front structures.

Even the name of the National Museum in Wellington, called Te Papa Tongarewa, or Te Papa for short, comes from the Mauri language and means “the repository for things precious”. Dave and I checked it out one afternoon but other than the Mauri exhibits it was basically just like any other field or natural history museum. Don’t get me wrong it is very nice. We just didn’t find the non-Mauri exhibits real interesting. I guess I hit too many museums with my grandparents when I was a kid.

I took a good walk around Wellington one day by myself. I found the Capital buildings and basically just had a big tourist day taking pictures of everything. It was a fun afternoon of wandering.

Before leaving Queenstown, Scotty had mentioned a company to me called the Kiwi Experience and he said they would be a great way to travel the North Island. He described it as something a lot of backpackers use and basically said its just a bunch of buses that take you from city to city and help you plan what you want to do and where you want to stay when you get there.

It sounded good to me; cheaper and more fun than renting a car. Plus I wouldn’t have to tackle the whole driving on the left side of the road thing. So I grabbed a brochure before we left Queenstown, made a few phone calls when I got to Wellington, and then yesterday morning I jumped on “The Big Green Fuck Truck” as I have since learned it is called by the Backpackers that use it.

According to the demographics chart in the Kiwi Experience brochure my age puts me into the 8% area of people that ride the bus. Well actually 30+ makes up 8% of the riders. Once again more proof that I’m a poser Backpacker but oh well. By the way, this little stat amused the Hell out of Dave and Scotty as we were sitting in a pub before leaving Queenstown. I’m glad my youthful attitude could bring a chuckle to them.

The bus was like a mini Spring Break. By 11 a.m. as we were cruising down the road girls were in the front window flashing other buses and construction workers as we passed. While they weren’t flashing anything I wanted to see (they weren’t good) I still respected the attitude and that’s basically what the Kiwi Experience provides; easy travel for people that want to experience a trip not take one.


The hostel I’m staying at here in Taupo is fantastic, The Tiki Lodge. It feels very new and clean. My room has a double bed, one bunk bed, and a private bathroom. I had one roommie last night, a guy named Andreas from Austria, but he left this morning. When I cam in late last night/this morning he was already sacked out in the bottom bunk so I plopped down in the double bed. I feel kind of bad now though because I just met my two new roommies and of the 3 of us I’m the shortest by at least 3 inches. One of the guys, Brian from Chicago, is about 6’5”. Oh well, squatter’s rights; the big bed is mine.

I got into town yesterday at about 2 p.m. One of the great things about the Kiwi Experience bus that I’m on is they also give you easy access to booking your activities in each town. I’m sure they get a percentage for bringing a bus load of Backpackers to any businesses doorstep but that’s fine with me. I’m finding we also get a discount.

As you are approaching the town the bus driver gets on the PA and tells you what there is to do at your destination. He/she does it in a way that I really liked too; not like a tour guide or an activity director from the Love Boat. More like a friend telling you straight up what’s going on. “This restaurant sucks.” “This bar is good at around 9 p.m. and then head to this bar afterwards.” Etc.

As for activities they then pass around a clipboard for you to sign up for things. When it gets back to the front of the bus the driver gets on a cell phone and calls ahead to make your reservations for places to stay, tours to take, rafting trips, etc. I had been on the bus for about 2 hours when the clipboard got to me.

“Let’s see, I have 2 days 2 nights in Taupo. What should I do? The Tongariro Crossing is a must, a hike that takes a whole day. What to do this afternoon? Well it’s been a couple days since I jumped off anything; how about an airplane?!”

It was as easy as checking a box and handing the clipboard to the girl in front of me, only $159 Kiwi too. How could I pass it up?! So add another tandem skydive to my resume. (This one was from 12,000 feet…and I was barefoot.)

It was just as fun as the first time I jumped but I did miss having my jump buddies MJ, Jeff, and Derek with me. Like many things in life, you can never duplicate your first time.

This jump was again on a gorgeous day but instead of seeing the East Coast of Florida like I did on my first skydive in 1998 this time I was looking at a great view of Lake Taupo and the nearby mountains, Mt. Tongariro and Mt. Ngauruhoe. It was a great way to spend my first afternoon in a new town but next time I think I need to do a solo jump. No more training wheels!

When I got back from my jump I went for a stroll around town. Taupo doesn’t have the feel of Queenstown but I still liked it. It was Saturday afternoon and there was an Ironman Triathlon finishing right in the heart of town. Seeing the athletes running their final few kilometers and hearing the announcer and crowd as the athletes crossed the finish line a few blocks away from me really got me anxious.

I have been doing so much I had not thought much about my missing marathon. I’m very disappointed that I was not able to do it. I have loved each of the marathons I have done but I was really looking forward to a different one; small numbers and the unknown scenery of the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

I had contemplated still going over to that area but after I found the Kiwi Experience and they didn’t have any buses going that way I decided it was probably best not to see what I would be missing. No sympathy needed here. There will be more races in far off lands. Maybe even an Ironman….somewhere….someday.

That afternoon I bought some supplies in preparation for my day long hike the next day along the Tongariro Crossing. For dinner that night I also got some “takeaway” lasagna and a 6 pack of Monteiths Original (Oh ya, I’m finding all sorts of new beers I like too. So far I think “Originals” as I order it in the pubs, is my favorite.) and headed back to the hostel.

The Tiki Lodge has a huge kitchen on the second floor with large sliding doors out onto a balcony/deck equipped with 2 bbq’s and 2 large bench style tables. The whole place has a very homey feel. Actually it looked like the set for some reality show where they lock a bunch of people in a house or something. Well this was the real world, despite what those shows claim to be, and I’m happy to say there was no one bitching, over dramatizing, or generally just trying to get attention. I guess that’s what really happens when you put 30+ Backpackers from around the World under one roof without the meddling of some producers looking for ratings. It’s just pure fun and harmony!

I plopped down on the balcony to eat my dinner and sip my beers, oh and of course make some friends. Earlier that day, on the Kiwi Experience bus, I had met Amy from England, Birmingham to be exact. I also had met Monica from Sweden while skydiving.

I talked with them more as I enjoyed my dinner and I also met a couple from Quebec and more girls from England. Most of us were planning on doing the Tongariro trek in the morning and the shuttle that took you to the trail head was leaving at 5:30 a.m. A late night at the pubs would have to wait until the next night. Well that was the plan at least. (This is my attempt at foreshadowing.)

I was cleaning up my dinner and making labels for my leftovers that would go into the fridge when I noticed a sign hanging on the wall. “Tongariro Crossing for Sunday, March 6 cancelled due to gail force winds and dangerous weather in the pass.”

I must have read the little 8.5 x 11 sign five times before I turned to someone and asked “What day is it?”
“Saturday.”
“What is the date?”
“March 5.”
My brain kept processing. “Let’s see that would make tomorrow Sunday, March 6. Doh! That’s when I’m supposed to go! Damn!”

I was immediately disappointed. I’m on a tight schedule and there was no time to wait out the weather and I was really looking forward to a day of hiking. The pictures I had seen of the mountain crossing looked fantastic too! Being the optimist that I am though I quickly bounced back and realized, “Hey, I get to sleep in for the first time in days! No reason not to hit the pubs now!”

I found Amy writing in her journal in the lounge area and after listening to her hemming and hawing I convinced her she had to hit the pubs too. After all it was Saturday night in a new town!

This logic also worked on Monica and Andreas, my roommate, and soon I was heading to Mulligan’s with a Brit, a Swede, and an Austrian who didn’t know each other. It felt like my first week in college, back in the dorms, only with a lot more experience under my belt…and I guess it showed because as we were walking to Mulligan’s we were all chatting away when Monica out of nowhere said, “Mat, how old are you?”

I was taken back. Wasn’t I blending? Did I look that much older than them? Did I act older? I was immediately uncomfortable despite the fact that I had no “romantic interest” in either of the girls that were there and I wasn't trying to impress anyone or hide anything.

Of course, I tried not to look like the questions bothered me. I just let it roll off, smiled, and quickly followed up with, “Why do you ask? How old do you think I am?”

Amy chimed in, “I’m guessing 27.”
In my mind I was thinking, “Uh, if you think 27 is older, 31 will only freak you out!”
“Nope, I’m 28.” I said. I’m self conscience about my age but I’m not greedy.
My 21 to 23 year old “peers” and I arrived at Mulligan’s and age was never discussed again.

I may have been the oldest one of our group but they all sat in a booth like they were 40+. After a couple rounds of that I was ready to roam the pub and make more friends. I chatted it up with several people from around the world and eventually lost track of my original group so I moved on to the next bar. My next stop was the late night dance bar called Holly Cow. It instantly reminded me of a bar back in West Palm called Bradleys. Well the atmosphere did at least complete with dancing on the tables, so I was feeling right at home.

Holly Cow was a nice mix of locals and Backpackers and I actually made bar friends with a group of guys about my age. They were locals once, a bunch of college buddies that now lived in Wellington and Auckland. The meet up in Taupo once in awhile for a guys weekend. Of course the group dynamic was pretty familiar. A few shots later I was one of the gang.

So that was last night and tonight seems to be going in the same direction. It’s been another great New Zealand adventure day. The bad weather at the Tongariro Crossing didn’t hit down here in the valley. After a light rain shower this morning it has turned into a beautiful day. I checked my e-mail at the local café and then rented a mountain bike. After getting a recommendation on a 3 hour route form the lady at the Rainbow Hostel where I rented the bike, I took off on the suggested course.

The first 40 minutes was on the open road with rolling hills which proved a rigorous work out going up hill and then ridiculously fast down hill. On my last downhill, flying around curves, while the tires on the pavement hummed at a higher and higher pitch, I felt like Lance Armstong, only I’ve never seen him laughing out loud like I was.

I took a quick break at the dam that was a focal point of my route and then I set off on the off road half of my trek. Now this was real mountain biking! Narrow trails, sharp downhill curves, boulders, skids, cliffs, I was having a blast and even got a little nervous at some points. Of course I was going as fast as possible, breathing heavy and sweating even though I was in no rush and truly only wanted the experience to last as long as possible but there I was, still trying to push it faster and faster. I fishtailed around a corner, downhill, only to realize the trail quickly turned back the other way. The fun feeling quickly left and the “Oh shit!” feeling took its place.

I managed to whip the backend of my bike around the other way, get both feet back on the pedals, and come to a stop at the edge of the ridge. Wide eyed and looking back at the curving trail I had just traversed I let out an audible “Whoa!” The dust was still settling and I looked around. Half still in shock at what I had just pulled off and the other half looking to see if anyone was watching! I either looked like a pro or a nut! The move I’m sure looked impressive but I’m sure my face told the real story during the whole thing. I pedaled away after a mental scolding. It was a long way down over the side of the trail and I had not seen anyone in hours. Not a good place to get hurt! “Don’t get to comfortable.” I reminded myself.

Either fortunately or unfortunately soon that lesson learned would not matter. I blew my back tire out about 30 minutes later just coming off of a 6 inch step. Karma I suppose. I was probably still 2-3 kilometers from town and we are not talking in a straight, flat line either. Disappointed and tired I pushed the bike home. Rental bikes! I swear I break them every time!

Well that was a few hours, a shower, and one load of laundry ago. It’s time now to get my leftovers from the fridge and eat a little dinner. I hope nobody drank my Originals. My new roomies look to be up for a night out so that should be fun. They seem like competent wingmen.

I leave for Rotorua in the morning. The Kiwi Experience pick up is at 9 a.m. I better pack up tonight and double check the travel alarm before I go out tonight.

Right now is one of those feelings that I love. Relaxed and refreshed but the body has been running all day. It’s hard to describe. I feel clean but I have not shaved in days and my hair is a mop on top of my head. Bliss is a word that comes to mind. I wonder if I’ll ever not like traveling like this.

MJF