Kia Ora

I arrived in Rotorua yesterday after a nice, scenic ride. I was glad to see, as I drove down the main road, that there was some life to the town, unlike Waitomo, which I liked but was a little too country for me. I found my hostel by chance after taking a few lefts and a right, and when I first saw it, I thought I had been scammed. From the road, it looked like an abandoned building and I started to list in my mind the hostels I had passed on my way in. However, when I went around back, I saw it was just undergoing some major renovations and was open and in full swing. The hostel is a big, sprawling mansion situated on Lake Rotorua. It features a grand staircase in the foyer, upstairs and downstairs wraparound porches, and an outside patio overlooking the lake. It reminds of a charming, long-forgotten southern estate house. The view from the upstairs porch is breathtaking – just sapphire blue water dotted with jutting green peninsulas. At 17US a night, this place was a steal. However, it seems as if not many know about this bargain with a beautiful view because I’m one of its only lodgers. No matter – I like the peace, the quiet, and the chance to roam around the place uninterrupted.

Last night I made a trip out to the Tamaki Maori Village. I signed up for the tour, which included access to the village, a Maori concert of traditional song and dance, and a hangi or feast, which is cooked underground and then served. It was all very interesting and involved, and after subsisting on Subway and Special K for the past week, I dug into the buffet feast with vigor. One of the highlights of the night was when my Australian tablemate called our English tablemate “backward” during the course of their beer discussion. I sat back in my chair and wondered what would happen next because the Englishman became all huffy after that comment. They continued to exchange quips until the Englishman pulled out the Australians-are-only-English-prisoners-anyway card, which ended the argument. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, and the Australian took it in good stride. Mind you – these were 60 year-old men fighting.

Maori culture is such a big part of New Zealand, and until about 15-20 years ago it had been suppressed in the nation. The Maori people are only now beginning to reclaim their lands and their culture for themselves and share it with those willing to participate. Though touristy, the night was very informative and intimate, and I was happy to see and partake in an authentic representation of their culture.

This morning, while eating breakfast on the porch, I encountered a German staying at my hostel. I have to recant part of what I said about Germans, because he was super-friendly and even invited me out with him and some friends later on tonight. I guess they aren’t all bad after all.

I’m frustrated with the internet situation in New Zealand so far. I have been spending a fortune trying to connect. Yesterday, as I was driving through the town, I saw a Starbucks, and as they are known for their free wi-fi, I stopped in and asked about it. The employee nodded and smiled when I asked if they have free wi-fi as if it were a secret he wasn’t supposed to reveal. Anyhow, here I am in Starbucks and to my dismay the wi-fi is far from free. After trying to connect, I realized I’d have to buy an internet card like all the rest of the places, and I even bought a coffee first for 4NZD because I didn’t want to use their wi-fi without purchasing anything. I should complain to the Starbucks Corporation; they shouldn’t advertise free wi-fi if you have to pay 10NZD an hour to use it. I think they should reimburse my coffee as well because it was bought under false pretenses.