Parting is such sweet sorrow

Tours, regrettably, must come to an end and it always seems to come too soon. Just about the time we’ve been able to gather all these new people into our family, we have to say goodbye and go back to the “real world.” Bummer.

As last days go this one was spectacular -- especially because the weather was made to order. Tour Director Kait complimented us on having perfected our Sunshine Dance. Ample sunshine with a light breeze and beautiful clouds dotted the sky.

We started our day with a ferry ride to Waiheke Island. This afforded us great views of the Auckland skyline and the islands along the way. Once on Waiheke our first stop was the Rangihoua olive grove. We learned how olive oil is produced and were able to sample three varieties produced there. It was interesting to learn that in addition to harvesting the oil in the olives, every remaining by product of the process is used for some purpose. They are not filling up landfills with olive waste.
 

We toured the island on the way to the olive grove and then on our way to lunch. While the island has a number of permanent residents, the population swells during the New Zealand summer due to the array of beautiful beaches available. It is such a well-regarded location that tiny beachfront homes that used to sell for one hundred thousand dollars now go for one million dollars.

Lunch was at the Mudbrick Vineyard & Restaurant, which was situated on a hilltop with picture perfect views of the bay, and Auckland. Our host conducted a mini-wine tasting, giving us a sample of two whites and two reds produced there. Our three course lunch went down very well. The Lady who would naturally prefer to start every meal with dessert managed to wait until the end but as you can see was disappointed when it was all gone.

We returned to Auckland on the ferry with enough time to do a bit of Retail Therapy dockside before returning to the hotel.

With just enough time to rest and digest the midday meal, it was time for the famous Tauck Farewell dinner. Ours was held in the Chandelier Room of the Langham Hotel and, by golly, there in the middle of the room was indeed a chandelier. Clever how these rooms get named.

It was a time for picture taking, story swapping and last minute sharing. Tauck is absolutely brilliant at bringing together a diverse group of people and joining them in a unique traveling experience. This trip was no exception. While I’ve poked fun at some aspects of the trip, all in all it was an enlightening, educational and entertaining experience. Would that everyone could have the opportunity for this kind of travel. It would make us all better people.

And about the new friends we’ve made. What a magnificent treat. Yes, you have to get out of your comfort zone and reach out to total strangers. But strangers they are no more. We are already plotting opportunities to visit again soon and share these experiences again.

I’ll close now because it is 10:30 pm and we have to be up at 2 am to begin our trip home. The Lady who usually likes traveling with me has already asked me several times how in the name of all that’s Holy did I manage to get us on a 6:30 am flight. I keep explaining that this kind of expertise doesn’t come cheap. She rejoinders that I should enjoy retirement and not consider another career as a travel agent. Some people are so hard to please.

So, that’s all for now. I plan a wrap up post some time next week when I finally wake up in Atlanta. Thanks for coming along on this adventure with us.

Goodbye to beautiful Auckland!

On the Road Again

Unfortunately, when you need to get to here from there, days like today occur. A travel day.

After three glorious days in Queenstown, it was time to go. Regrettably, to get there from here required one of those unfortunate early early mornings. Up at 5:45, breakfast at 7, on the bus to the airport by 7:45. Just point me in the right direction and give me a little shove. I will become conscious sometime later today.

We were greeted by our charter plane at the Queenstown airport and, thankfully, did not have to undergo the usual security process. We just went directly to the tarmac and boarded our plane. This living like the 1% can be addictive.

Our ultimate destination today was Auckland, toward the north end of the North Island. Queenstown, you may recall, is in the middle of the South Island. The arrangements for today’s travel included what I call a touch and go visit to the town of Rotorua, which I could not remember how to pronounce so I kept calling it Rotorooter.

Rotorua is an interesting place. It stinks. That’s not an editorial statement to cast aspersions on the local populace. It’s a fact. It stinks. The town sits atop an active geothermal area. The area steam vents release stinky compounds into the air. You and I might say it smells like sulfur but Tom, our chemistry expert, says that sulfur is odorless. It is various sulfur compounds that actually smell. Bottom line, it stinks. In a very educational way, mind you, but the bottom line is ‘hold your nose.’

The town has two claims to fame. First are the numerous spas around town that cater to those who want to take mud baths or soak in hot stinky springs. Second is the Te Pula Maori Cultural Center which we visited.

Our tribe, the Tauck Tribe, led by Chemistry Tom, participated in a traditional Maori ceremony used to greet visiting tribes. The Maori tribe warriors stormed out to greet us in a very menacing way as Chief Tom stepped forward. We were all ready to cut and run at a moments notice and leave Tom to his own devices. He had been instructed to pick up off the ground the item the Maori chief laid down which would symbolize that we came in peace.  Heck, we came in a motor coach, what did they expect?

Tom managed to retrieve the peace symbol without insulting anyone and we were then invited into the long house for additional entertainment. The first thing we got to see was Tom and the Maori chief greeting each other by the traditional practice of gently touching noses. Twice! We were told that we were not to laugh at this gesture less something untoward might happen to Tom. That was a challenge. Think two NFL players meeting mid-field and gently touching their noses together. Twice. Our group showed remarkable self-control. This Tauck Tribe should consider volunteering for the diplomatic service.

These formalities having been completed, members of the Maori tribe then presented a short program of musical numbers for our enjoyment. The climax of the program was a presentation of the Haka, a warrior dance traditionally used to scare the bejesus out of one’s enemies prior to battle. In our case, it lost a lot of the scare factor since the guy leading the Haka was the same one that had earlier touched noses with Tom. Hard to get that image out of your mind.

After the short program, we were guided around the grounds to see the pools of bubbling mud and giant geysers. We also were invited to see two sleeping kiwi birds. They were exhibited in a special darkened room because these flightless creatures are nocturnal, which means, of course, that they sleep during the day and are active at night. These two must have tied one on yesterday because even though it was do dark I couldn’t see my face in front of me, those two kiwis were knocking back some zzzzz’s. And I can truthfully report that a sleeping kiwi looks just like a ball of feathers. In fact, since I couldn’t poke it, it may have been just a ball of feathers.

We then participated in that time honored Maori parting ritual of visiting the gift shop where we could by bottles of cooled mud used for a number of medicinal and cosmetic purposes. The Lady, who regularly shops at Ulta, declined.

I’ve poked some fun here mainly out of ignorance. It was enlightening to get a glimpse of a culture that has been on this island for hundred of years. The Maori were warm, friendly and they are justifiably proud of their heritage.

Leaving the Cultural Center, it was immediately obvious that it was probably time to eat again. Ever ready to boost our shriveling waistlines, Tour Director Kait had arranged for us to lunch at a dairy farm just down the road in Matamata. The family has a heard of 450 dairy cattle but also manage to run a lovely restaurant attached to their home. We were served a scrumptious meal of roast lamb, vegetables, salads and a sinful dessert. We continued to live our motto: when in doubt --- EAT!

Back on the coach, we headed for Auckland where, when we entered the city, we were given the traditional Aucklander’s greeting of bumper to bumper traffic. This is the Tauck way of telling you that the fun is done and you are heading home in a couple of days. The endless stream of cars certainly reminded us of Atlanta and our new friends from Los Angeles expressed the same sentiment.

And the perfect ending to a perfect day was DINNER! The Langham Hotel in Auckland sports a torrential buffet – it has eight separate cooking stations.

Make you want to touch someone’s nose.

A Peaceful Day

If yesterday was a day to get the adrenaline pumping, today was a day to return it to its proper place, where ever that is. High adventure was replaced with calm adventure.

It also turned out to be one of the most beautiful days we have had weather-wise.  During lunch, one of our waiters heard us talking about how wonderful the weather was today and he said, “Tough life we live here.” I agree.

The activity of the day was a trip on Lake Wakatipu aboard one of the few remaining coal fired passenger steamships in the world. It was a bit of an anachronism to see this large ship belching out thick black smoke into one of the most pristine atmospheres I’ve ever inhaled. Given how passionate the New Zealanders are about the ecology of their country, it was hard to understand how this ship could still be in operation. We learned that it was ‘grandfathered’ out of current environmental laws.

The ship is designed to allow visitors to view the activities of the engine room. We watched as the ship’s crew loaded shovels full of coal into three boilers that generate the propulsion steam. That’s not a job I’d want to have in the middle of summer.

Our destination after the 45-minute boat ride was the Walter Peak High Country Farm. The Mackenzie family owned Walter Peak Station in the late 1880s and are credited with developing many of the principles of successful high country farming during their years working the property. At its peak, the farm was one of New Zealand’s most famous with 170,000 acres, 40,000 sheep and up to 50 fulltime employees. The original homestead block of Walter Peak Station is now known as Walter Peak High Country Farm that we visited.

We were treated to a demonstration of the shearing of a Marino sheep. Using a set of air driven clippers our host scalped that sheep in about five minutes. We understand that a professional shearer can do about 300 sheep in a day. That, my friends, is a fast haircut.

We also saw a demonstration of one of the farm dogs working a small group of sheep. The dog responded to voice commands and whistles of the shepherd to move the sheep around the lot. It was obvious the dog was in control by the way the sheep quickly moved as he intended.

And in the interest of expanding our waistlines, we were served a generous and tasty lunch. Pictured above are (l-r) Denise, Betsy, Bert, Me, Ellen & Tom.  Breads, salads, vegetables and meats including beef, chicken, lamb and sausage, and, of course, dessert. The Lady who would always eat dessert first if given the option, chose Sticky Date Pudding.

After the return trip on the boat to Queenstown, the Lady who still had shopping adrenaline pumping in her veins insisted on another round of Retail Therapy. I most cleverly involved our new friend, Betsy, in the conversations about the afternoon shopping plans and, before you could say, ‘Bob’s your uncle,’ she volunteered to accompany us on the afternoon’s campaign. Part two of this stealth operation was to negotiate my early release from this mission. Success – I had only to join the team for one store and my work was done. Sorry to have used you like that, Betsy. Sometimes you have to resort of this kind of chicanery when you live with a lady who is an Olympic shopper.

We said farewell to Queenstown this evening with a lovely dinner in our hotel’s dining room. I’m beginning to realize that international touring is an extended series of meals punctuated by enough sightseeing to camouflage the gastronomic excess. Gee, only eight more hours until we eat again.

This has been a re-charging three days in Queenstown with very reasonable wake up calls each day. That all ends in the morning. The call will come at 4:45am as we hit the road again for the North Island. We fly to Rotorua in the morning and visit the Te Puia Maori Cultural Centre and later drive to Auckland.

I look forward to you coming along.

Bonus photo -- view from the bridge as we return to Queenstown shown above.

It Definitely Was the High Road

You know you have entered into a new realm of high adventure when the ride to get you started is death defying itself.

On the schedule for this morning was 1) A Jetboat ride on the Shotover River, 2) A helicopter ride to Bob’s Peak and 3) A gondola ride from Bob’s Peak back down into Queenstown.

Trouble is that the Shotover River where the boat ride would occur is at the bottom of Skippers Canyon some 13 terrifying miles from Queenstown. The road down into the canyon was recently described in a New Zealand Herald article as being rated one of the world’s most dangerous roads. It got an overall road fear factor of 7 out of 10. I would have rated it a 35 out of 10.  

The roadway was about 1 & ¾ inches wider than the vans tire tracks. Guard rails? You are kidding, right? Hairpin twists and turns next to 500 to 1000 foot drop-offs were right beside my window while the driver told stories of landslides that closed the road periodically.

The Lady who took her pain meds this morning seemed oblivious to it all and she’s the one who gets nervous driving over the 17^th Street bridge in downtown Atlanta. I think my heart was pumping pure adrenaline instead of blood.

When we finally got to the Jetboat Ride you could have hung me over the back of the boat and dragged me through the water and I would have been ok with that. Anything but getting back into the van.

The Jetboat ride, which any other time might have looked terrifying, was, instead, mega cool. The boat reached speeds of 50+ mph and we did some fantastic 360-degree wheelies several times. Amazingly, the water in the River was only inches deep in most areas and zooming through the narrow canyon was spectacular. The Lady who’s hair must never get wet was cocooned in her poncho and successfully ended the ride looking like she just came off the modeling runway. She is amazing.

Imagine my delight when I discovered that we would not have to return to Queenstown via the Terror Road. Instead, that’s where the helicopter came in. It picked us up just above the river landing and whisked us up and over that dreaded Skippers Canyon road and delivered us to the gondola station on Bob’s Peak. Oddly, the idea of falling out of the sky never came close the earlier fear level of falling off the side of the mountain road. The helicopter ride was smooth as glass and as gentle as the road trip had been jarring. The Lady who has been fighting motion sickness from time to time on this trip, declared helicopter flight to be a marvelous thing.

From Bob’s peak we had a magnificent view of Queenstown below and the mountain ranges in the distance. And, after winding us up on the canyon road, and whirling us onto Bob’s via helicopter, our final adventure of the morning involved settling gently back down to earth via a gondola ride.

We paid further homage to the retail gods during the afternoon and I gloried in walking where the greatest fall I could sustain was three inches off the curb. I confirmed today that I am truly a flatlander.

And now, safely in my hotel room, with the blessed short-term memory of the elder generation, I can declare the day a smashing success especially since nothing got smashed.

If anyone offers, next time I’ll probably choose the low road.