"Rotorua smells like Manure..."

I hope you all had a splendid Chistmas. We missed you all terribly and even though we were in Rotorua, a city famous for its geothermal regions and it's strong sense of Maori culture, it was still a bit lacking in something essential without the ones we love (you know who you are). But we couldn't mope around for long - we had to inventively bring a bit of magic to a deserted holiday park! My fab prezzies were a tub of my most favourite Ginger Souffle body cream from Origins (how I've missed you) and a book about knitting for thickies (apparently previous projects have been too adventurous). Santa brought Andy a Japanese comic and a couple of DVDs. Our families also donated us lots of money to the ever-dwindling hardship fund. Many thanks to you all !! 5* luxury in Rarotonga here we come!

Christmas morning was spent at Te Puia, one of the largest geothermal parks in the area. Unfortunately, the craters, fumaroles, bubbling mud pools, spewing geysers and volcanic mineral deposits weren't quite enough to impress Andy, who I could tell was already awaiting the Maori concert with trepitation. We wouldn't have normally gone to such a tourist-fest, but it was included in the entrance fee and is a good way to see an example of a kapa haka, or group performance. Andy anxiously said that we had to sit at the back to we weren't picked out to get on stage with any scary warriors. As would follow with these sort of affairs, one of audience had to volunteer to be our representative and greet the warrior who was brandishing a large spear. This tribal Polynesian ritual dictates that the host will challenge the visitor and lay down an offering such as a leaf before him. The visitor whould accept the leaf whilst maintaining eye-contact, to indicate that he somes peacefully. Whakapapa, or genealogy is a very important aspect of the belief system. Maori belief states that we do not just present an individual being, but with all the spirits of our ancestors in tow. Once inside the marae, or meeting house, speeches of welcome are made and then the musical and dancing performances begin.

The Maori, being the indigenous people of Aotearoa (NZ), first arrived in voyaging canoes from Hawaiki, their ancestral homeland some 1,00o years ago. There are legends about almost everything in New Zealand, but the most well-known are those about Maui and the origins of the country. It states that he caught the North Island of Aoteroa from the sea with a giant fishing hook. If you look at a map of the North Island, it resembles a fish, the far North being the tail of the fish and Wellington representing its mouth. The South Island represents Maui's canoe and Stewart Island was his anchor. Traditional Maori arts and crafts are practiced throughout the country, most notable fantastic wood, greenstone or bone carvings, in typical designs such as the fish hook (in keeping with the legend) and the Hei Tiki, a fertility symbol. Weaving and moko (tatooing) are also still widely practiced, which in my book is cool ("keeping wool alive"). While it is customary for men have their whole face and body covered with amazing designs (including their bottoms), female moko is more usually seen to cover only their mouth and chin area. Quite possibly the coolest tatts around.

Just because a bloke with a funny beard and rainbow sandals was picked to represent us, this added fuel to Andy's fire. He then had to greet each member of the other tribe by doing a hongi (ie. pressing noses twice). This is the traditional greeting which means sharing of life breath. I suppose that could have a down side too. Thus followed half an hour of traditional song and dance which involved a fair amount of Poi. This time it's cool though, because we're not on a Thai beach and they could do it properly. Fully relieved for the ordeal to be over, Andy marched us off to commence dinner preparations.

Despite our fear, the caravan park was totally devoid of other people on Christmas day. We sat there in the desolate campers kitchen with enough food for a Hangi, feeling guity about the lonesome man who sat with a bread roll and a banana while we merrily made our way through a bottle of cava, a fancy bottle of red and several Tuis. The dinner was monstrous hybrid of flavours including, but not exclusively, olive and sundried tomato stuffing, spicy red cabbage and lamb shanks. So it was us and the bread-roll man who actually turned out to be a jolly nice and decent Aussie.

After we'd made a right show of ourselves, we rolled into the hot tub where we sweated off the booze. An unforgiving and sobering moment occurred when my camera's self-timer went off twice. The photo immediately following this poised scene, was one of my stomach and thighs climbing out of the tub towards the camera. Now that's something that no girl post-Christmas lunch should ever see. A couple of DVDs later, it was time for the second best thing about Christmas dinner - Christmas dinner leftovers. Thus ensued a fitful nights sleep littered with nightmares. I dreamt I was so fat I looked like Anne Diamond and had taken to wearing an enormous jumper. That's what happens when you go to bed stuffed.

Boxing day was attempt to get my fiance to appreciate all this natural power and raw beauty. 20km south of Rotorua, is Waiotapu. Having been here before, I knew how amazing the colours were and how totally otherworldly the place felt - like being on the moon. So here we were, on a baking hot Boxing day, wandering through clouds of hot sulphurous steam, trying our best to stick to the narrow pathway with our hangovers fully intact to prevent being boiled to death in the 90 degree water, and he still wasn't having the time of his life. The amazing colours you see here are formed due to the different mineral elements such as suphur, iron oxide, carbon and manganese. Mr. Mounter would state that all these elements are "the most abundant in the earth's crust," well they certaily are here. The water is so hot in places (upto 300 degrees C in parts!!) that the minerals are leached from the rocks, transported through to the surface as steam where they are absorbed into the ground. The whole place totally stinks of rotten eggs, due to hydrogen sulphide spewing about all over the place. Wai-O-Tapu, meaning 'sacred waters,' covers 18 sq km of surface land, and dates back 160,000 years. The park sits on the edge of the largest volcanic caldera of the Taupo region and the stream water is heated by residual magma from previous eruptions.

Traditionally, the waters were used for cooking and the mud for bathing. It's therapeutic properties were recognised many moons ago and can help alleviate aches and pains associated with arthritis and rheumatism. Indeed, rickety souls around in the early 1900's could test this hypothesis at the The Rotorua Bath House, a hospital / spa, eager to cash in on this economy. But it all went quickly wrong when, after a few years and great investment, the sulphurous elements began to destrol the metal pipes and very quickly it became a dank and mouldy place falling to pieces (ooh, sounds familiar, RSCH). It now stands as a museum and has lots of interesting and bizarre exhibits and the treatments on offer. The mud is still used in Rotorua's hospital today for similar conditions. Not being upto more heat and eggy vapour, we laid down in a park by the lake and fell asleep for the afternoon. Well, I didn't as I'm currently heavily involved with the wool project of the week - another scarf (very safe).

We did pop to Christchurch for a couple of days before all this volcanic malarky, but I wasn't really in the mood for taking photos in light of recent news from home. This city, which has a palpable British air with it's cathedral and punting down the river Avon seemed quite pleasnat, apart from the disasterously wet weather. In fact, all we managed to do was to see my old friend Helen. Actually, she's not that old, but she is indeed very lovely. We met at Uni before she had the good sense to escape our ridiculous course. She now lives in this fab country with her bloke Bruce and they picked us up in the POURING rain, for a comforting evening of roast dinner, champagne and stories of the good old days. Much fun was had dissecting our course-mates personalities (that bit was mainly me, I have to say) and Andy says I did a lot of talking in general. Even for me. Well, it's been about 10 years, so there was a lot to say. They have a beautiful house by the beach, but we couldn't see this due to the driving rain. It was like staying in a posh boutique hotel, where the towels are all rolled up neatly. We even had a goody bag containing mince pies and sweeties! Truly, it was great to see Hennals with her new hair!!

A frightening ferry journey across the Cook's Strait, saw swells of 4 metres. Luckily, the day before it had been over 8 metres and the whole affair took about 8 hours of sheltering in the Marlborough sound rather than the intesded 2 hours. People were vomiting, children were green, but we were OK though we had to sit separately as the ferry was packed. All we do now, is wait for our flight to The Cook Islands - our final destination. Where has the time gone?!?!?!

Festive read of the week : Schapelle Corby : My Life ( The story of the Australian caught with narcotics and now serving 20 years in an Indonesian slammer - the only crime she is guilty of is having the greatest chav name in history).



Festive Campaign : Justice for Schapelle!




Festive Film of the Week : Kiki's Delivery service - a Japanese animation about a trainee witch and one of the many spur-of-the-moment Christmas presents to Andy.