The fourth weekend of the month a group traveled to Adrenaline Forest, an enormous ropes course not too far from campus. Tossing harnesses to everyone and giving them a five minute tutorial, visitors are turned loose on the park. Sadly, no pictures were taken at this event; we were too busy flying through the air on ziplines and swinging from ropes into giant nets 20 meters off of the ground.
This type of thing would never fly in the US.
We also managed to visit the International Antarctic Centre, an attraction that is part museum, zoo and entertainment park. Easily the most enjoyable part of the day were the hagglund rides (If you don't know what a hagglund is, google it). Those things can move and if you're not buckled up, you'll get tossed around. Good fun.
The final weekend in May marked the prelude to the final week of classes, which, understandably, meant a great deal of work had to be completed ahead of time. Most stayed in on this weekend.
But to make up for this lapse in our adventuring spirits, a plan was hatched. As the first week of June had been set aside as the "study week", our natural reaction was to book some plane tickets.
New Zealand is comprised of two islands, dubbed the north island and the south island. Brilliant.
Anyways, the south island had been rather thoroughly explored by this point; the north island, however, had not been seen by some since they connected in Auckland on the flight from the US. A ferry would have been possible, but the fare was very expensive (roughly $200-300). Plane tickets proved to be the more economical decision.
So from June 4 - June 11 the plan was to tour the north island, seeing as much as we could in the time that we had. If we followed through with our plan to rent a car (we did), then people could study in the car. And by that I mean the option was there. Interpret as you will.
Landing in Auckland on the afternoon of the 3rd, we walked around the city aimlessly, unsure of exactly what we were hoping to accomplish. But the weather was nice, and for some time we sat in a park, occasionally hopping up to enjoy the playground.
I only mention this because it's important to note that the weather was nice. This would not be a constant on the trip.
Staying the night in Auckland, we toured around more the following day, trying to absorb as much of the culture as possible. And just our luck! We happened to spot a Palestinian rally being carried out in the streets of the city. Unfortunately, this demonstration was a peaceful one, and no rioting or looting took place.
And only a handful of anti-American signs. Somewhat disappointing; people must be caring less about us these days.
Oh, and at lunch we were accosted by a homeless fellow. He screamed at a group of people on the street for a bit and was subsequently arrested. City life!
Really, Auckland is much like any American city. Large buildings and crowded sidewalks, endless rows of windows attempting to lure pedestrians, chaotic waves of congestion, desperate and talented street performers, beggars, prostitutes, blaring car horns and flashing lights, all set alight against the gray background of concrete walls.
Gorgeous night skyline, though.
By Sunday we had had enough. Renting a car (only automatics; disappointment) we turned our sights south, heading for one of New Zealand's prime tourist attractions, the Waitomo Caves.
Famous for the glowworms that exist within the cave, groups are guided through on inflatable tubes, gazing up at the glowing ceiling while slowly make their way through the cave.
And it delivered what it advertised. It was a tad bit shorter than we had hoped and there was more awkward walking than actual tubing, but overall it was still a very enjoyable experience.
We were provided with wetsuits, which turned out to be a very good thing, because that water was frigid. The hot shower we got to take afterward was an enormously gratifying feeling.
That night proved to be an interesting one.
Rotorua was chosen as the next city to be visited. This meant a fair amount of driving, not arriving until around 9pm. Stopping for a quick drink in a local bar, we debated about where a campground could be found. Remembering a picnic area we had passed about 15 kilometers outside of town, we headed in the direction we had just came.
It had begun pouring shortly after leaving Waitomo Caves, and though the intensity fluctuated, it picked up again as we were settling into the tents for the night. The wind caused the sides to ripple and shudder violently, but the water was not able to penetrate. We all drifted off to sleep and hoped the weather would be different in the morning.
However...
At 2:30am (and I know it was 2:30 because the first thing I did was check the time) I sat up, instantly awake. A car engine idled just outside the tent and a female's voice was heard clearly.
"This is the police. Please step out of the tent."
I complied. The night had cleared up, and eyes drifting towards the sky, stars could be seen. The voice returned.
"Is this your rental car?"
A reply in the affirmative.
"You should be careful storing your belongings inside of it."
A hesitant nod in agreement.
"Have a good night."
The female police officer and her male partner (who had been shining his flashlight through all of the car's windows) returned to their vehicle and drove away.
I crawled back in the tent and none of us fell back asleep before the sky had begun to lighten.
Getting up after a few puny hours of sleep, the weather remained shaky throughout the day. Trying to get in a round of miniature golf, the skies opened up. Deciding to complete the round, we were all soaking wet by the time the final ball sank into the hole of the 18th green.
The Waikite Hot Springs. These were the words of the kind women in the clubhouse, advising us that the springs were the best solution to warm up on such a dark and drizzly day. She didn't have to sell the idea very hard.
The springs, found about 20 kilometers outside of the heart of Rotorua, flow naturally at about 100 degrees centigrade. The water boiled and bubbled before our eyes as it flowed from one main pool downstream, steam rising as it went.
The hot springs themselves were a cross between a public pool and spa resort. There was little to do but sit and soak in the hot pools, staring out across the hills and letting the smell of sulfur become displaced in the breeze.
The hot springs also contained a campsite, and this is where we stayed for the night.
When we finally got back on the road the next day, the plan was to head north. The Coromandel Peninsula, known for its stunning coastline and sprawling rainforests, possessed several items needing to be checked off the New Zealand to-do list.
However, any particular activity was initially set aside upon our arrival at dusk, as we headed straight for the water.
This was the view from Hot Water Beach, which will be explained in greater detail shortly.
The second desired location was Cathedral Cove. Ever since hearing a local kiwi describe it as his "favorite spot in New Zealand" it had been a personal goal to get there.
Though we did not embark on the 40 minute walk to Cathedral Cove's beaches on this first night, we did sit and stare out across the sea from the edge of the trail's beginning.
Simply stunning.
So fixated were we that a sneaky photographer went completely unnoticed.
Dining while watching the sunset, the next day's plan began to materialize. Low tide was just before 10am; this meant Hot Water Beach to start the day.
Retiring to a very cozy hostel in town, we had a good night of sleep (indoors!) and were rested to start the next morning.
Returning to Hot Water Beach with a shovel borrowed from the manager of the hostel, we made our way down the coast.
Due to the thermal activity in the area, there are certain areas on this beach that naturally fill with hot water through the simple act of digging a hole in the sand. In some places the water that oozes up through the sand is so hot that it is near-scalding to stick your toes in.
Selecting the perfect spot (not too hot, not too cold...), we begun to dig. Well, some of us did anyways.
But the laborers enjoyed the fruits of their labor to the fullest.
As did everyone.
Despite the weather not being particularly warm, the group decision was made to throw ourselves into the various water activities available nearby. For the two girls, Kelsey and Emily, this meant sea-kayaking.
For Jon and myself, well, a braver option was pursued.
Snorkeling in water that was just over 10 degrees centigrade. Fortunately we had wetsuits, which prolonged the numbing effect of the water.
Making our way down to Gemstone Bay, an inlet just over from Cathedral Cove, we took the plunge. The water was relatively clear, with visibility up to about 10 meters. So that we didn't have to swim aimlessly around the large bay, the Department of Conservation had arranged a series of buoys, effectively making a "hiking" trail through the water.
Darting through kelp forests, various species of fish sped away upon our sight (sadly, I don't know what any of the different species are called!). Several large fish even began to follow us, clustering around our bodies as we floated just below the surface, keeping as still as we possibly could.
But after about 45 minutes of underwater exploration, the temperature of the water proved to be too much. We pulled our freezing bodies onto the rocks, sitting in the sun and shivering for a good 20 minutes. Yes, undoubtedly it was worth it.
After changing into some warmer clothing, we decided to set off on the path towards Cathedral Cove, a fitting way to end what had been the best day of the trip.
Hardly a 40 minute walk, we soon completed the dirt path and were walking down the narrow stairs to the sands of the cove.
To our immediate left a large arch acted as the door to move beyond Cathedral Cove.
See the signs? The rope? Rock-fall hazard. Do not enter.
Disregarded (but no tsunami warning!).
Spreading out in the other direction, Cathedral Cove presented itself.
Completely enclosed, the beach ran from the water straight into rock and earth, as sheer walls guaranteed that the only entrance and exit from the cove came from the one staircase.
Not that we were in any hurry to leave.
One of the main things I hoped to do in New Zealand, Cathedral Cove did not disappoint. I only wish we had made it there during the summer, as the beach was absolutely pristine. To swim in the sea and then fall asleep on the sand at this spot would have been phenomenal.
Curiously observing, the birds certainly possessed little fear of humans. The allotted time for meeting the girls was rapidly approaching, and we reluctantly turned and walked back up the stairs. Chatting lightly, our spirits soared as we strolled at a relaxed pace.
And encountered some friends on the trail.
The little lamb was very scared of our passing and scurried to hide behind its mother. Precious, but totally ruined the photograph I was trying to take. Ugh, babies...
Rendezvousing with our female companions, the decision was made to pass on dinner for the moment and head straight to Auckland, completing the circuit of our trip.
After a hefty meal at Wendy's (oh, how I missed it) and some good conservation over some beers at a small tavern, we made for the home of a friend of Emily's family. Having stayed with her cousins in Massachusetts for some time in the past, he was gracious enough to allow us to stay at his flat, even driving us around so that we could see the entire city. Really a great guy, despite the fact that he happened to be a cop (some of the police's training techniques down here - absolutely awesome).
And so, after a week of traveling around the north island, we found ourselves returning our rental car and having to kill a few hours before heading to the airport for our flights to Christchurch.
It was at this point that something interesting happened.
I could not find my passport.
It was gone. Vanished. Nowhere to be found.
We inquired at the place we had stayed in Auckland previously - five nights ago. Slim chance, but sometimes these things work out. And this was one of them, because they happened to have found it!
Except it wasn't my passport.
The hotel had found another traveler's passport and turned it into the Auckland police. While on the phone with the police to ask about the whereabouts of "my" passport, they realized that the passport in the possession of the police was not mine; however, somebody, in a completely separate incident, had reported finding the passport and then turned it over to the police.
Only they were hundreds of kilometers from Auckland.
I had lost my passport the day of Waitomo after using it as I.D. in a liquor store on the way to Rotorua. It happened days before, yet I didn't realize it until two hours before my flight, and less than three weeks before I was supposed to leave the country.
F&*%
We retreated to a cafe to figure out what to do. Having gotten the number for the US Consulate, I gave them a call.
Yes, they had received notice that a US passport had been reported as lost. Turning up in the town of Otorohanga (??!?), it had been mailed to the US Consulate's office in Auckland.
Which just so happened to be the city I was in.
The address, where my passport sat waiting to be retrieved, was given to me as 23 Commerce Street.
Which was the same street I just so happened to be on.
Scrambling to the barista, I demanded to know the street number of the cafe.
40.
Bursting through the doors, I sprinted all of half of a block before arriving at 23 Commerce Street. Ringing the woman from the office, she was stunned at how quickly I had gotten there. Coming straight down, she returned the passport to me, smiled, and said:
"You're very lucky."
Yes. Yes, I am.
Just about an hour had passed since I realized that the passport had been lost (and had been so for days... in a tiny town hundreds of kilometers from Auckland) and when I returned to the cafe clutching it in my hands.
Sitting down while the others stared at the document in amazement, I let out a long sigh and shook my head.
Yes, I am very lucky.
I ordered a coffee and watched the clock tick away towards our flight.
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