More steam!
The second (and final) instalment about Rotorua
When in Rome…
‘This is the spa I go to,’ explained our host. ‘I would choose the mud wrap.’
We booked, wondering whether it would be worth the eye-watering price tag. As recommended, we started in the coolest alkaline pool, which felt like a mildly warm bath. To my surprise, my feet floated to the surface; the water was buoyant. After a few minutes, we moved to the next pool, which was a little warmer.
A break in the vegetation on one side gave us views across the expanse of Lake Rotorua. Steam rose from the pool we were in and several places on the lake shore. I turned onto my front to admire the view. Pop! I giggled. Now, it was my bottom that bobbed up to the surface of the pool.
After playing around with the buoyancy of the water, we worked our way along the remaining alkaline pools, each warmer than the next. Finally, we reached the acid one. No one explained how the different alkalinity was important, but we were not worried; it was simply relaxing to float around in naturally hot baths outside, enjoying the view of the lake and surrounding mountains.
One final pool remained – the plunge pool at 18°C. I can be a bit of a wuss when it comes to getting cold, but on this occasion, I was first in – it was Mike who made the most fuss. Submerged to my neck, I counted to 30 as my body first froze, then became numb. This wasn’t so bad, after all! I slowly ascended the steps, padded over to the hot pool again, and then dropped myself in. Bliss!
When it was time for the mud wrap, we donned our dressing gowns and entered a room with two treatment beds. First, we were exfoliated. The room filled with the smell of coconut and mango, as we relaxed further. Next came the mud wrap. As expected, it was warm but far runnier than I had anticipated. Could it possibly be achieving anything? Once covered in towels, we were left to marinate while having a mediocre scalp massage. We showered the mud off and then were treated to the aroma of mango and coconut again as the masseurs finished the treatment with moisturiser.
And was it worth it? Weeks later, my elbows were still soft, so the exfoliation worked well, but I could do that at home on my own if I chose to. I am not sold on the value of the mud wrap or the scalp massage, so I think that in future, I would leave the treatment and just enjoy the sensation of floating in hot pools and plunging into a cold one.
Energetic mud and steam… Te Puia
Te Puia is touted as a cultural delight: a Māori-owned attraction with bubbling mud pools, geysers, a kiwi conservation centre, the top Māori craft school in the country and a cultural show. It was another eye-wateringly expensive day out, and I was dubious about going, but I could hear my friend Alison whispering in my ear.
‘Remember that promise you made not to miss out on something just because of the price.’
Our visit started with a guided tour led by a member of the iwi (tribe). She had a rapid-fire script that she threw at us. ‘Any questions? No. Good! Let’s move on then.’
We passed some New Zealand flax plants, which you would recognise if you have ever seen any UK seaside municipal planting. The long, sharp leaves are scraped to reveal the soft inner parts for weaving. The next stop was the carving workshop, where Māori men were working on wood, bone and pounamu – New Zealand jade. I queried the male orientation. ‘Oh yes, only a few tribes allow their women to be carvers.’ This was stated as though accepted and not to be questioned. So, I questioned. How will we move the world on otherwise? I have since seen in a newspaper1that a Māori woman has just graduated from another wood carving school. Hopefully, she will provide a role model and help convince tribal elders that women should also have this opportunity opened up to them.
The weaving room was similarly segregated along gender lines, although we were told that men are allowed to weave. Most choose not to.
The work that all the craftspeople were creating was exquisite. After years of oppression, it was fantastic to see these skills being developed.
A short walk in the blazing sun took us to the kiwi conservation house. It’s difficult to see kiwis in the wild, partly because there are so few of them and partly because they are nocturnal. The kiwi conservation houses scattered around New Zealand provide a home that is darkened during the day and lit at night, allowing visitors to see these birds at their most active.
From the kiwi house, we continued along the path. A mud pool glooped and steamed on the far side of a fence. If you like your skin, this is not how you want your mud wrap!
A little further along, a geyser spurted steaming water high into the sky. The deep rolling thump reverberating through the rocks and into the air contrasted with the higher-pitched sound of steam escaping and the tinkling of the water in the stream below. It was an impressive sight.
We couldn’t stay long, though; it was time to whisk us to the other side of the site for our cultural experience. Here, our guide left us, having added little value. The show was similar to that we saw at the Waitangi Treaty Grounds. Although interesting and impressive, now I am in a position to compare, I would only go to one or the other – I did not feel that I gained much from the second performance, except a lighter wallet.
We spent the rest of the day wandering around the site, admiring the boiling mud pools and viewing the Pōhutu geyser from the other side. This geyser is only as impressive as it is now because legislation has been passed to protect it. Until then, ground source heat pumps, used for heating homes and businesses, were reducing the amount of water and heat underground. If a few hundred ground-source heat pumps can have this effect, I wonder what impact the large geothermal power stations have in other parts of the world. In Rotorua, now that nearby heat pumps have been closed, the geyser is back to its impressive best, shooting water up to 30m into the air almost hourly.
I had never seen a geyser before, so it was worth visiting. Thank you, Alison!
It’s not all about hot springs and geysers
There is more to Rotorua than hot springs and geysers, as we found when our host took us on a tour of some of the lakes.
We started with Lake Ōkareka, which has a boardwalk stretching along some of the shore. It’s a stunning walk through woodland and past New Zealand flax and cabbage trees. New Zealand flax is a sculptural plant with spiky leaves and tall flower stalks – totally different to British flax.
Tuis feasted on the remains of the flax flowers, fighting each other over the few that were not yet desiccated. Cabbage trees bear no resemblance to cabbages either – instead, they have explosions of spikes atop long, narrow stems.
We sat on a bench and looked at the houses on the peninsula opposite. One of these was our host’s previous home, and she told us a little about life on the lake. It sounded pretty idyllic until her husband died, and the lake became host to his ghost everywhere she looked.
Across the lake, a flat-topped mountain rises in a gap between hilly spurs. This is Mount Tarawera, the volcano that erupted in 1886 and destroyed the fledgeling tourism industry in Rotarua. Until then, adventurous tourists would venture across Lake Tarawera in a Māori war canoe and hike for hours along the shore of Lake Rotomahana to reach the ‘8th Wonder of the World’. Here, there were two series of terraced pools created from silica that solidified out of the water running down the mountain. One series of pools was white, the other pink2[2]. When Mount Tarawera blew, over a hundred people lost their lives, and the Pink and White Terraces were destroyed.
A visit to the buried village of Te Wairoa filled in more of the story. We tend to think of volcanos as spewing out red-hot lava, but on this occasion, Tarawera spewed out mud. Boiling mud first fell from the air like heavy rain and then poured down the mountainside. The ground was shuddering, and the village was inundated. Here, the mud only reached 1.5 metres deep, so a few buildings survived partially intact. The village has been excavated, enabling us to get a feel for what it was like before the eruption. In other places, villages were buried beneath 15 metres of mud. Can you imagine the terror of having boiling mud rained onto you in the middle of the night, with the ground shuddering beneath your feet? Not a thought to dwell on for too long.
We’re back at the coast for next week's edition, inspired by the Rotary Club’s commitment to nature conservation.
https://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/determined-mother-carves-her-place-among-the-men/GBMBXAM7ACGPMMUJP6FUIXENCM/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pink_and_White_Terraces
Looking forward to more - is Tongariro on your itinerary? The Tongariro Crossing is a strong contender for Best One-Day Walk I've Ever Done.