New Zealand 2025, Part II (Notes from March 2025)

Around 2:30 pm, Wednesday, March 5, 2025, we made our way to the Esplanade in Devonport, an old favorite for afternoon tea. The date scones were a bit hard; Norm always called them “stones,” but the clotted cream and tea were delicious. I chose a Jasmine, and Norm a passionfruit oolong.

After tea, we headed to Cheltenham, my favorite beach on the north island. The tide was quite low, and I walked in up to my ankles without changing into my swimsuit. Most of the bathers in the water were standing rather than swimming. We saw a house we’d looked at a few years back when it was for sale. Still lovely, and probably worth a lot more now than it was then. Not right on the beach, but only one house away. We hit 5 o’clock rush hour traffic as we made our way back to Auckland.

“If we come again, maybe we can avoid rush hour by coming on a weekend rather than weekday,” I said. “I really shouldn’t complain though. It’s nothing like Nashville.”

Our apartment in Parnell, NZ, this time is on the fourth floor and right across from the heated lap pool and small gym. I’ve only used it once so far this trip, but it’s always pleasant.

On Thursday morning, we headed south toward Taupo. I wasted way too much time looking online at hotels in the Rotorua and Taupo area, trying to decide where to stay. The drive took the bulk of the day and was much more winding than I’d remembered. We were both tired and grumpy by the time we arrived.

The Wairakei resort seemed nice enough, but our room did not. Knowing the temperature would drop into the 40s Fahrenheit at night, Norm tried to turn the heater on and failed. Once more, we had to switch rooms.

“What were we thinking?” I said, chastising myself. We scrimped and saved, staying in cheap hotels when we were younger so we wouldn’t have to now. Old habits die hard, though. At least the heater worked in the second room, but the walls were scuffed and the carpet stained. Seemed clean, as far as bathroom and sheets were concerned.

The heated pool was warm as most hot tubs. Pleasant at first, but you couldn’t swim for long without overheating. The entire area is one of the geothermal reserves, and the sulfur smell permeates Rotorua but not quite so intensely in Taupo. The resort wasn’t exactly in either city but closer to Taupo and quite near Huka Falls, which we remembered for its brilliant blue hues.

We went to the spa (basically a hot tub) after leaving the pool. I could feel my blood pressure escalating so refrained from staying in very long. We had dinner on the premises at the Geyser bar. I ordered duck confit, and Norm had John Dory. Both were delicious, and huge portions.

The next morning we checked out early and headed toward Rotorua. I had intended our first stop to be the Waimangu Volcanic Valley, but a sign caught my eye for Orakei Korako Geothermal Park and Cave. I pointed it out.

“Do you want to do that?” Norm asked as we headed past the turn off.

I hesitated, knowing he hates to backtrack. Once he’s passed an exit with tempting restaurant or gas station choices, I know better than to ask. “Yes,” I said at last.

We didn’t have to backtrack far, but the road to the park and cave was very long and winding, or so it seemed to one prone to motion sickness. I never had that problem as a child (back then I could read a novel in a moving car), though both my kids did. I do now, however, but I made it reasonably well by concentrating on the road. Well worth the drive, in the end.

We took a short ferry across to the geothermal park. I could see there were going to be a lot of steps, and I prayed my knee would hold out. Luckily, there were numerous landings and terraces, and most of the steps were not steep ones.

Lots of thermal gasses, some bubbling pools, yellow and gold algae, very pretty really. More steps to get to the cave. We couldn’t go inside but impressive to look at, one of only two geothermal caves in the world. The other is in Italy.

Oh, I forgot to mention our stop in Hamilton on Thursday on our way to Taupo. We’ve been to the Hamilton gardens a few times before. I think I appreciate it more than the locals. When I mention it to my colleagues at Auckland, no one sounds very impressed. But I like it a lot.

A new garden celebrates Egypt, reminding me of a river cruise I’d scheduled a few years ago but canceled due to hip pain (I still hope to get there some day). The garden was very colorful, quite lovely, and we took several photos. We also visited the kitchen and herbal gardens, the Chinese garden, the English garden (always makes me think of a Paul McCartney song), the surreal (or fantasy) garden with huge doors and oddly shaped trees, reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland. We strolled briefly through the Mansfield garden, having spent time there before, where a garden party is being laid out with cakes and pies on the tennis court.

We went to the café at the Hamilton Garden, ordered coffee for Norm, mince and cheese savories for both of us, and a delicious custard muffin to share. I planned to buy another muffin to take away on our departure, but they’d sold out.

As we left Orakei Korako, we walked through their café, planning to snack there. But the café had filled up, and a lengthy queue formed. We decided to move on toward Waimangu. The tickets for the boat ride there were quite expensive, about $370 for the two of us, but we’d expected them to be. Our feet and legs were tired, so we bought the ticket that allowed us to be driven by bus to the boat pickup and returned the same way.

The lake covers the area once famous for pink and white terraces. These were quite a tourist draw in the 1800s but destroyed by a volcano in the late 1800s. We saw a few smaller terraces with traces of the salmon pink color, as well as some bright yellow ones similar to those at Orakei.

Two smaller lakes once populated the area, now subsumed into one large lake. We sat in the bow of the boat in front of the captain alongside another family. The boat just before ours had been packed with people, but we were the only five passengers on our forty-five-minute cruise. The hot sun baked down on my black jeans until I thought to cover them with the map of our journey. Much better!
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Norm drove us next into the heart of Rotorua, where we parked in the Governor Gardens we remembered from previous visits. A gorgeous bed of ranunculus, replete with delicate, satin-like petals, reminded me of the ones at our daughter’s wedding, the first time I ever heard of the flower—now one of my favorites. PART III COMING SOON