10th May 2017

It was an uncomfortable night. Last night’s cider and game of cards played a full flush, resulting in several trips to the loo for both of us. Stumbling through unfamiliar surroundings in the dark, with a certain sense of urgency, can often end in disaster. Somehow, we managed to avoid the usual hazards on each foray. I must admit, though, that more than once on my return, I stood still, simply taking in the scene around me.

Dark and silent RVs were scattered here and there beneath a spectacular display of twinkling stars. All around, mist spectres rose wraithlike from the ground. I knew what they were, just sulphurous thermal vents, but the sight still sent a prickle down the back of my neck. Each time, I was grateful to slide back into the snug safety of my sleeping bag.

We left the site around 9:30 am and headed to Waiotapu Thermal Park, just a couple of kilometres down the road. Wisps of steam drifted randomly through the forest as we drove.

“It’s like a scene from Jurassic Park,” gasped Jamie as we rounded one particular bend.

I had to agree, though thankfully, no raptors in sight.

We came across a sign for the Mud Pools and decided to make a diversion. After parking up, we followed a short trail that wound past various glooping, hissing, and bubbling pools of grey sludge. At the end of the official path, we spotted a less-trodden trail through the bushes and decided to follow it.

About a kilometre in, we stumbled upon more steaming sludge ponds nestled within the dense mat of trees. The final one was particularly striking, a bright green pond, with an eerie, greenish mist hovering just above the surface. It was strange, and more than a little unsettling. Chlorine gas, perhaps? If so, I could understand why tourists weren’t encouraged in this direction.

 

Returning to the RV, we continued towards our destination. As we approached the park gates, a ranger stopped us and asked if we were interested in seeing the Lady Jane geyser erupt at 10:15 am. We agreed, purchased our tickets at the visitor centre, and drove back along the route indicated by the ranger.

We were among the first to arrive and secured front-row seats on the circular banks that surrounded the geyser. While we waited, we struck up a conversation with a couple of Australians. Jamie joked that someone would probably press a button to trigger the eruption at the appointed time. I laughed and scoffed at the idea. As it turned out, he wasn’t far off.

At exactly 10:15 am, a ranger appeared beside the geyser vent and began explaining its history. He then admitted that, while the geyser erupts naturally every 72 hours, to ensure tourists aren’t left disappointed, they drop a small parcel into the vent to trigger the eruption. I suspected the package contained sodium bicarbonate, as thermal waters are typically acidic.

Moments later, the vent began to bubble, and before long, with a loud hiss and splutter, steam and water shot skywards. Sitting in the front row, we inevitably got wet, though to our surprise, the water was cool. The geyser continued to erupt for around 15 minutes. By the time the performance began to subside, most visitors had drifted away, and we took that as our cue to head back to the Park Centre.

Our ticket also granted us access to the Thermal Trail, which wound its way through an otherworldly landscape of yet more mud pools, hot water pools, and steaming vents. I won’t attempt to describe everything we saw; the photos will tell the story far better.

After a quick stop at the shop to pick up a little something for Sue, we set off for our next destination, only to be swiftly waylaid by an unexpected adventure. Just half a kilometre from the centre, we spotted people lounging in the river as we crossed the bridge.

Curiosity got the better of us, and we ended up spending the next two hours there, relaxing in the thermal currents and chatting with like-minded visitors. At one point, a couple of girls convinced us to cover our faces with mud they had gathered from somewhere nearby. They claimed it would take 20 years off our age and stimulate hair growth, promises too tempting to resist.

Sadly, while I was hopeful, the mud didn’t seem to do much for Jamie, at least nothing I could notice!

Towelled off and dry, we set off for Huka Falls, an hour’s drive away.

The Falls are particularly impressive, not just for their beauty but for the sheer volume of water that surges through such a narrow gap, the equivalent of twenty Olympic swimming pools every minute. Fall in, and you’d be gone in more ways than one.

The area was bustling with Chinese and Japanese tourists, cameras clicking endlessly as they moved almost in unison. After taking in the view, we enjoyed a short walk, first downstream and then upstream, before returning to the vehicle.

Just 2 km further along the road, we arrived at the ‘Craters of the Moon’ geothermal walk. After paying the entrance fee, we descended into the depression where the steaming, hissing, and bubbling spectacles lay in wait. The walk along a raised wooden pathway took around an hour and was thoroughly interesting, a striking contrast to the Waiotapu adventure that morning.

This truly felt like stepping into ‘Jurassic Park’, without the wildlife.

By late afternoon, we set off once again, this time bound for Napier. The landscape continued to transform around us, but one thing stayed the same: whenever the forest gave way to fields or rolling hills, it felt as though we were driving through an enormous golf course. Do they mow everything here? Surely it’s not just the cattle and the ever-present sheep keeping the grass so perfectly trimmed.

Night had fallen by the time we reached the bright lights of Napier. We’d selected a free RV park right on the beach in the heart of the city (no heater for Jamie tonight!), and with the help of the satnav, it was easy to find.

After settling in, we took a short walk to a nearby takeaway, run by a mix of Chinese and Māori staff and featuring a menu that was nothing like what we’d expected. We went for ‘The Boss’, fish, chips, a sausage, and two crab sticks.

Back in the RV, we unwrapped our dinner to find that ‘everything’  had been encased in crispy batter, even the stick holding the sausage! We carefully stripped away the cholesterol-laden coating to reveal the edible portions inside, tossing the discarded batter into a bin under the RV (sure to delight tomorrow’s seagulls). Judging by the steady stream of locals, this battered paradise was clearly a hit. I couldn’t help but wonder about the future of New Zealand’s healthcare system if Napier’s residents indulged like this too often.

We wound down the evening with coffee and a few rounds of cards.