Tag Archives: Scenery

Taupō – a lake larger than Singapore

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Thursday 19 February 2026 – Our task yesterday was to get the short distance from Rotorua to Taupō – about an hour’s drive – but first I had an astounding discovery to make. I’m not sure I was emotionally prepared for this sight at the breakfast buffet.

Could this really be Marmite?

The answer is – well yes, but not really any more.

Marmite started out in Britain, but the Sanitarium Health and Wellbeing Company obtained the rights to distribute, and later manufacture, Marmite in Australasia. Over time the recipe has diverged from the (proper) British version, manufactured nowadays by Unilever. Sanitarium Health and Wellbeing Company distribute it in Australia as well, but I never saw it on offer there; presumably the Vegemite Marketing Board actively seek to discourage it from ever actually being sold.

Does it taste like proper Marmite? Again, no, not really. I think it’s more similar in taste to Vegemite, with slightly fruity overtones. It still goes nicely with butter on toast, though.

So I learned a thing yesterday. O! How travel broadens the mind!

En route to Taupō there were a couple of things to see, the first of which was as a result of a tip from the friendly boatman at Orakei Korako; on learning of my happiness that there was boiling mud there he suggested we take a look at the Waiotapu Mud Pool. It being just off the route from Rotorua to Taupo, we did exactly that. It’s quite informally presented – just this pool beside the road with a little bit of parking for passers-by. But as a boiling mud offering, it’s definitely very classy.

There’s a side path to a higher viewpoint, too.

It has a couple of small mud volcanoes

and lots and lots and lots of bubbling, seething mud. It was fun trying to capture a sequence of shots of an eruption.

There’s something quite hypnotic about watching boiling mud. One gets quite nerdish about trying to predict when one particular patch is about to erupt into some violent upheaval.

The road we were travelling towards Taupō is rather dramatically called the Thermal Explorer Highway, though officially it has the prosaic name of State Highway 5. Anyway, evidence of geothermal activity can be spied as one drives along.

I’d been hoping that this was another geothermal park, but we think that it is actually a (geothermal) power station; less romantic but a great deal more practical.

The other thing to see on the road to Taupō is the Huka Falls. Despite the name, this is not any kind of waterfall that, say, an Icelander would recognise, but it’s an impressive water feature that may well still cause him to stroke his chin. It’s a cataract caused by a significant narrowing of the channel running between two wider bodies of water. I guess it would be impressive enough anyway, but the colour of the water as it gushes through the channel is beautiful.

We stopped off first at a lookout over the scene.

and then went down to examine it more closely.

It’s difficult to capture photographically in its entirety; video does it slightly better justice.

By this stage we were on the outskirts of Taupō town, and it was a short drive to our accommodation, the Reef Resort. The word “Resort” somehow conjures up images of a significant property laden with palm-fringed swimming pools, restaurants, maybe even a golf course or two. The Reef Resort is not like that. It’s perfectly comfortable, but is small and just a little bit old-fashioned and dowdy in its decor and facilities. It has a swimming pool, which is not of interest to me, and a guest laundry, which is. Therefore, on arrival, apart from a mug of Twining’s Finest Earl Grey, my first task was to do the laundry. Well, these things are important, you know. Our next task was to get into Taupō town to (a) ensure we knew where to go to board the cruise in plan for the next day and (b) find a Woollies in order to buy ourselves some dinner; we’ve been short on vegetables these last few days, and when you get to our age these things matter. Driving around, the town had given us the feeling that it was rather like an American seaside resort; walking from the harbour to the shopping centre reinforced that impression. There were no pedestrian crossings to get across a busy four-lane road which had constant traffic and we had to dice with death when dashing across. Anyway, a successful turn around Woolworth’s ensured that we returned laden with fruit and salad and settled in for the rest of the day.

And so ended yesterday.

Today’s activity was a cruise on the lake. Not just any old cruise, you understand, but one with a specific objective beyond showing us the general scenery from the water; some “Māori carvings”. Our cruise was on a catamaran run by Chris Jolly Outdoors, and we certainly hoped that the outdoors would be jolly today. Looking out over the lake from our accommodation, it seemed a bit windy, and in fact the cruise organisers were giving people an opportunity to book at a later date as today’s conditions might not allow for getting as close to the carvings as would be possible on a calmer day. We decided to stick with it (mainly on the basis that we were moving on tomorrow, but also on the basis that I had a decent, though not Big, lens on the Nikon).

The skipper, Jimmy, gave us the usual safety briefing

part of which was explaining the thing about the wind and the concomitant necessity of hanging on to the boat when moving about. As you can see, there was coffee and tea available, and I was a little surprised that they were just free standing there. Which they weren’t after a bit – with only a small amount of stuff crashing to the floor, they were cleared out of the way when the going got a bit rough.

Jimmy then drove and commentated as we went,

pointing out various features, such as the desirable residential area of Acacia Bay

and Motutaiko or Te-Motu-tapu-a-Tinirau,

the “Sacred Island”, which has a deep cultural significance for Māori people; visiting is forbidden except with explicit permission. Behind it, in the distance to the south of the lake, is Mount Tongariro, of which you might be hearing a lot more in coming days. Or not. You’ll have to keep checking in to find out. Another thing I learned from his commentary is the correct pronunciation of Taupō, which sounds more like “Toe paw”.

We motored around the headland to Mine Bay and the Māori carvings that were the principal object of the cruise, and which are only accessible on the water. Having not really thought much about it, I had expected the carvings to be some kind of historic work by Māori ancestors. Very wrongly, as it turns out. The carvings were created in the 1970s by Matahi Whakataka-Brightwell, a master carver with deep roots in Māori heritage, honouring Māori ancestral legacies.

The central carving, 14 meters high, depicts the legendary navigator Ngātoroirangi, a revered navigator who guided the Tūwharetoa and Te Arawa tribes to the Taupō region over a millennium ago. The artworks depict not only his legacy but also tupuna (ancestors) and kaitiaki (guardians).

Some care was needed when trying to photograph these carvings.

The conditions weren’t ideal, but people managed to get the photos they needed, I think.

If you want to know more about how the carvings were done, you can find it on this YouTube video.

We then headed back around the headland, and Jimmy pointed out various neighbourhoods and other landmarks as we passed them. I took a photo of the area where our accommodation is;

it’s just to the left of the white boxy structure by the lakeside. Just thought you’d like to know. Also visible is a mountain range called the “Sleeping Warrior”

(with a bit of imagination you can see a head and a nose to the right, and the rest of the body in the centre), and Mount Tauhara,

just to the east of Taupō town, which can be climbed by keen beans with the right footwear.

Jane spotted someone parasailing

and, as we approached Taupō,

we saw some kayakers.

Unsurprisingly, Taupō is a great place for people into watersports and water-based activities. There’s not much else here, though.

After disembarking, and acting on a tip from Jimmy, we headed into the desirable Acacia Bay area, aiming to get to a cafe called Cafe L’Arte (L’Arte, Latte, geddit?) which sounded an interesting place to get some coffee. It’s a few kilometres around the lake from Taupō town on a side road, and you get a sense of what the place is like from the signpost that takes you on to that road.

When you get to its turning, you get a further idea,

and walking through from the car park completes the picture.

It’s quite the first impression – like something out of Gaudi’s Park Güell.

It’s also very popular. I don’t know if all the cruiser skippers recommend the place, but it had the air of having several post-cruise punters all arriving at the same time.

It’s a delightful place – good coffee, good food and absolutely dripping with colourful art.

A picture of the counter underneath the counter

There’s a gallery and shop

and it’s altogether a lovely place to spend a little time mooching around.

After our lunch, we headed back to our accommodation. Since we’re not much into watersports or lounging on the beach, there wasn’t anything else for Taupō to offer us, so we took it easy for the rest of the day.

The morrow takes us south to a possible adventure, depending on the weather and our courage. I’m being deliberately cryptic here; you’ll have to stay tuned to see how things get decoded.

Mud, mud, gurgling mud

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Monday 16 February 2026 – Having checked in yesterday and indulged in a cup of Twining’s Finest Earl Grey, we found ourselves with a little time on our hands. So we went for a walk. Obviously.

We had a bit of a side trip as part of my tiresome tireless search for an electric toothbrush, because the cheapo Colgate battery-driven number I’d bought in Auckland turned out to be pretty rubbish.  Our walk to Woolworth’s took us past quite a fine mural.

Shame about the graffiti on it, though.  However I know that you will share my (and Jane’s) delight that my search for a toothbrush proved moderately successful!

Our hotel is pretty much beside the lake, so it was a short walk to take an overview. Its geothermal pedigree is on clear display (and, of course, you can smell it, too – there’s a distinct “rotten eggs” niff of Hydrogen Sulphide in the air.

Jane had discovered that there is a walkway beside the lake out to a place called Sulphur Point, so we took it

whilst being sure to be careful because of the not-inconsiderable danger of death that seems to lurk round every corner.

As we walked along, we noted a vast flock of gulls by the lakeside.

I had assumed that the waters of the lake would be too toxic to support aquatic life, but apparently there are fish in the lake for the gulls to eat alongside insect and plants.

The walkway led past some black swans

who were doing the duck dive thing, which I’ve not seen before.  At Sulphur Point there are a couple of pieces of art

“Waters of Rotorua”, by Rory McDougall. No, me neither

lots of gulls, some greylag geese and swamp hens.

There’s also been a strong effort to make the loo look pretty.

It was getting late by this stage,

and the light on the lake was lovely.

We hastened back to the hotel, walking through Government Garden and passing the museum, sadly largely covered in scaffolding and sheeting, but the exposed areas of which look very attractive.

Government Garden is a handsome place

and houses, among other things, a Māori Teahouse.

That was yesterday. Today was set to be Geothermal Day. Our itinerary took us to Orakei Korako, a geothermal park. When I visited New Zealand back in 1988, I based myself in Auckland and explored by simply driving as far as I could on day trips, one of which was to Rotorua, which is when I experienced its heady aroma for the first time. In those days I was neither culturally aware nor in possession of a guide book; all I wanted to see was some boiling mud. If memory serves, I did, although I can’t place exactly where I found it. But I must have seen some, otherwise the angst of having gone all that way and not found any to look at would have stayed with me for those intervening 38 years. So, I had high expectations of a boiling mud persuasion for today.

Orakei Korako is about an hour’s drive from Rotorua, through some typically quirky North Island scenery

and past significant evidence of vast amounts of logging.

It’s astonishing the amount of planting that has gone on of Monterey Pine trees, which are grown for the making of paper, since Eucalyptus doesn’t flourish here. There are impossibly steep slopes covered in these pine trees; I couldn’t imagine how they were even planted, let alone how the logging was done. But, clearly, it is done, and is a significant industry in the area.

Geothermal activity is a brutal thing, involving huge temperatures and pressures (and, I was hoping, boiling mud, of course). Orakei Korako has managed to put an entirely charming and low-key package together to showcase it.  One parks lakeside, and is given a friendly but serious safety briefing (basically not to stray from the  boardwalks, as this can be fatal) when collecting tickets, and is then transported across to the actual brutal bit on a cute little ferry.

The walk round the park takes 60 – 90 minutes, and is very well laid out, with maps and info boards to show you where you are and what you’re seeing.  It was pleasantly quiet, with just a few people wandering about in the park. The boardwalks are easy to navigate,

though there is quite a bit of up-and-down as you pass and view the various sites.

It is a typically “blasted landscape”

with considerable evidence of sulphur, and steam rising in many places, often above boiling pools.

Some areas have names; this, for example, is called the “Artist’s Palette”.

It wasn’t particularly colourful today, but apparently under some circumstances it can be overrun by boiling water, which is an ideal growth platform for algae of a wide variety of colours.

I was feeling that there was a bit too much emphasis on pools of boiling water, when we came across this sign.

So, after a quick look at the cave

we hastened down so I could get my fill of boiling mud, mud, gurgling mud!

If you want to see the mud in action, I included it in this overview video of the place wot I produced,

which also gives a better idea of the scale of the place than any of the photos we took. It’s very nicely laid out and pleasantly uncrowded; we enjoyed our visit immensely.

We had to get back to the hotel in time to be collected and taken to our evening’s activity, a Māori “cultural experience”, a description apt to send a shudder up the spine. Ours was to be hosted at Te Puia, which John at Kiwi Dundee had described as “legit”, so I wasn’t absolutely dreading it.

A bus came to pick us up at around 5.15 for the short journey to the place.

We filed in through the arch and joined a whole heap of people who were there for the evening’s entertainment to witness a Māori welcome ceremony. In real life, of course, it has the possibility of going sadly wrong unless you know what you’re doing, but we had a host marshalling us around; he picked a sucker volunteer from the crowd to be the “visiting chief” and made sure that he didn’t get stuck by an angry challenger.

His job was to approach the pavilion which houses the “natives”.

 

…who come out to look you over…
…and send a couple of chaps down to challenge.
A fearsome display, then…
…placing a token to assess your intent
It’s important to pick this up calmly…
…and retreat. This is the point at which it could go wrong.

Some final display then leads to the visitors being accepted and led into the pavilion. I have video, but you get the idea.

Inside, we are treated, as you might expect, to an exposition of native culture – a welcome speech from the “chief”, singing, dancing, explanation of the cultural and practical significance of dance accessories and weapons, and, of course, the haka, which is probably the single most famous Māori cultural export of New Zealand. If you’re a rugby fan. Again, I have video, so, erm, here is some of it.

It was by and large a jolly pleasing noise, but one thing struck me as unexpected. Not that I wish to accuse anyone of cultural appropriation, but there were a lot of familiar western harmonies in the songs they sang….

Following this was a part of the evening which I least expected and most enjoyed – a visit to the centre’s resident geyser*, Pōhutu. It was preceded by a session around a firepit where Māori cuisine was discussed as a prelude to the “Māori feast” we would have later, and then we all trooped down into the Te Whakarewarewa geothermal area in the centre to hope that Pōhutu would do its stuff before we had to troop back and eat.

It took a while – some twenty minutes of gradual buildup – but it was pretty spectacular when it finally came to the party.

The meal was set out as a buffet, and quite a massive one at that. Jane and I had been allocated Table 12, and were both pretty glad to find that it was a table for two. We partook reasonably lightly of the buffet, unlike the couple next to us, who came from (I think) Finland and could reasonably be described as comfortably upholstered.  She had a dessert between two visits to the main course buffet stations, and he had just started on his third main course plateful – the third being after a dessert – as we left. A short bus ride took us back to the hotel, and that was it for the day, and a very enjoyable one it was, too, loaded as it was with many things geothermal of which we don’t see much in the UK.

I said that the Haka was New Zealand’s most famous cultural export, but there is, of course, an even more iconic, erm, icon of the country. This is what we shall learn about tomorrow. See you then?

 

 

*  Pronounced “guyzer”,by the way. A “geezer” is who was taking photos of it.

Transfer to the Coromandel Peninsula

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Friday 13 February 2026 – Jane had ensured that the room we had at the Auckland City Hotel had a kitchenette, which gave two advantages. Firstly, of course, we could prepare mugs of Twining’s Finest Earl Grey* at times of our choosing; and secondly, we could prepare our own breakfast, since the buffet at the hotel was OK but short on fruit and not particularly good value. As well as the longed-for dental gear, we’d also stocked up with fruit and yoghurt so that we could breakfast at leisure and reasonably healthily.

The mission for yesterday was simple – check out of the hotel, pick up a hire car and drive to our next destination, Whitianga, on the Coromandel Peninsula. We manhandled our bags for the 10-minute walk to the car hire office. It’s actually an 8-minute walk, but one tends to spend a lot of time standing around waiting for the lights to change at busy and large intersections. On occasion I’m tempted to ignore the lights and just walk across if it’s obvious that there’s no reason to wait. But four or five lanes lugging baggage encouraged caution, so I waited for the lights with barely-concealed impatience.

At the Budget offices, the hire process appeared to be going smoothly until Kevin, the chap sorting us out, queried the end date of the booking, which he had as 22nd March. This is, indeed, the end date of our trip here, but we only need this car until we get to Christchurch on the South Island, at which point we hop a train. We were supposed to have a booking for a new hire car for when/where we disembark the train and thus the rest of our stay, and it seems that the local agents for Discover The World hadn’t twigged this.  Fortunately the sainted Kevin (he of the arcade?) and his boss, Sue, sorted the situation out for us and we’re grateful for their staff work. The queue of customers building up behind us probably weren’t, though.

So we took possession of a brand spanking new Mitsubishi ASX, with just 35km on the clock, which will be our steed for the next three weeks or so. It’s a bit larger than I’m used to (though not the utter monster we got in A Coruña when we walked the Camino Finisterre) so we started a bit gingerly whilst I got used to the car. Being Japanese and in New Zealand, the indicators and wipers are the other way round from UK cars, so driving round roundabouts with the wipers going will be a feature of the next few days – and the first few days of driving back in the UK, no doubt.

Anyhoo… our exit from Auckland was smooth and through only slightly congested traffic, and then we had the decision to make as to whether to take the more direct route to Whitianga or go the pretty way. We decided on the latter. And it was a very pleasant drive, through lots of typical North Island landscapes.

We (of course) saw sheep.

New Zealand is often quoted as having more sheep than people, and ChatGPT tells me that this is still true, though not as much as in the 1980s, when there were some 22 sheep per inhabitant. These days it’s nearer four or five.  What surprised a little, though, were the numbers of cattle.

The area we were driving through, round the bottom of the Firth of Thames, being flat, was obviously very well suited to either dairy or beef farming.  I read that there are about half as many cattle as sheep on the island, and they’re split roughly 60-40 in favour of dairy animals.

I guess many people will have read of the enormous amounts of rainfall that have been suffered in the North Island, and saw for our own eyes some evidence of its effects.

We stopped for coffee (OK, yes, and ice cream) at The Pink Shop at Kaiaua,

which is a very individual kind of place, serving as cafe, ice-creamery, eatery, corner shop, post office and second-hand bookshop.

They claim to serve the best coffee in Kaiaua, and I think this might be because there isn’t another cafe there, but it was a welcome break on the journey and the ice-cream was very good.

A little further along the road there actually was another cafe, but we decided not to stop there.

We carried on, through ever-impressive New Zealand landscapes but darkening weather.

After one leaves the flat plains south west of the Firth of Thames and starts up the Coromandel Peninsula, the roads become quite twisty, with climbs and descents, so sometimes one is by the coast

but more often into more hilly countryside. As one might expect, this gives rise to some more handsome scenery, and the roads feature lots of places where it’s safe to stop at the side to take photos.

It really was lovely scenery and it made the journey a pleasure.

We arrived at our accommodation, the Beachfront Resort in Whitianga, at around 4pm yesterday, and were greeted very genially by Paul on the reception and taken to our suite, which is comfortable and is set up entirely for self-catering. So we had a cup of tea, obviously, and then headed out for the fleshpots of Whitianga in search of (a) understanding where we had to get to for the items on our itinerary whilst we’re here, (b) sustenance for the day and (c) breakfast for the subsequent days we’ll be here.

Our schedule includes a couple of planned activities: a half-day cruise around the local coast and an all-day hike. In both cases we have to get to the local wharf, and for the hike we have to catch the shuttle ferry across to the other side (a place engagingly called Ferry Landing).

Having understood how all that worked, our next priority was to find a restaurant for an early dinner. Jane has good instinct for these things, and so, despite the fact that it was raining, we made our way past several eateries in order to get to a place called Salt,

which is a cocktail bar and restaurant. And a very good restaurant, too: we had a great meal based around snapper (yes, I had fish’n’chips) for outstanding value. Whilst we ate, the rain came lashing down, right through the screen that was supposed to protect us,

But it was only a shower, albeit a biblical one, and it was interesting to see the screen once the gusting wind had cleared the rain.

All we had to do then was to find a supermarket to get comestibles for the morrow, and there’s a substantial Woolworth’s in the town so that bit was straightforward.

And that was yesterday sorted.  Today we were supposed to be going on the cruise, but it, sadly, fell victim to the windy and wet weather,

but the hike should go ahead tomorrow, and can maybe be engineered to see on land some of the sights we would have seen from the boat. The practical upshot of this is that much of today has been a day (thus far) of splendid relaxation and further trying to get over jet lag (I’m getting there, slowly).

However, sloth for an entire day is not an option (I’m told. In no uncertain terms); we are travelling and so we Can’t Just Sit Around All Day (bugger!). What do you do on a rainy day? You go to a museum. Fortunately, Whitianga has one. What luck!

Whitianga might be a tiny place, but the area has some significant history. Just around the corner – the other side of that ferry journey – is Cook’s Beach, where he moored the Endeavour in 1769. He witnessed the transit of Mercury whilst here, and hence gave the name of Mercury Bay to the area. He also attended a powhiri, a welcoming ceremony with a local chieftain, where they exchanged gifts (Cook donated the potato to this new land) and established a meeting of minds between the two nations. The interpreter, by the way, was a gifted local linguist.

The museum covers the period from 950AD when the first humans, a Polynesian called Kupe and his crew, set foot on New Zealand; but it wasn’t until 150 years later that Polynesians came in numbers to colonise the new land.

Obviously, there’s Polynesian history figures in the exhibits, with models of the boats they used

This is a model of a 20m replica, Te Aurere, built in the 1990s to demonstrate the voyaging capabilities of these boats.

and examples demonstrating the skill in carving.

There’s a lot of information about Cook, of course, and a rather uninspiring display about HMS Buffalo, a convict and timber transport vessel which was wrecked in Mercury Bay in 1840 (the year of the Treaty of Waitangi), It gave its name to Buffalo Beach, beside which I am typing the very words. Other things covered in the museum include: inevitably, the Kiwi

among displays of other local birds

including, let us not forget, the Giant Moa

an enormous (extinct) bird with an improbably small head; information about historical aspects of the area, including mining; and information about the Kauri tree, an important conifer, particularly to the Māori, who historically used its timber in boat construction (pub quiz fact: it’s the only native timber that floats) and its gum for a variety of purposes. A European-driven industry grew up around it in the 1800s, similar to the Huon Pine we saw in Tasmania, and by the 1930s most Kauri forest had been logged. It’s also significantly threatened by Kauri Dieback, which is transmitted via tiny spores, very often carried on the soles of shoes. This kind of ecological threat explains why biosecurity is taken so seriously on entry to New Zealand.

There is something of a disconnect between the opening hours of the various establishments in Whitianga; the museum stays open until 4pm, but the restaurants, as far as we could tell, don’t open until 5pm (and the cafes closed at 2pm). So we pottered back to our accommodation for a couple of hours before venturing once more into town.  Having looked at the options, we settled on a place called Get Stoked and headed there through some reasonably heavy rain.  It turned out to be a cheerful and slightly noisy place, and provided very tasty salads and fish, though a Greek would not have immediately recognised the salad bit. We ended up chatting to a couple of old codgers on the table next to us for a few minutes before we left. It was a swift but very amiable meal and the pissing rain had stopped by the time we left, which was a plus.

We’re on a tour involving some hiking tomorrow, on the Cook’s Bay side, and have to get across the ferry betimes to meet our guide, so we’re back to early starts for a couple of days. The forecast is basically damp – anything from showers to deluges, temperatures in the mid-20s and humidity in the mid-90s. I hope we don’t get too badly drenched, but you’ll have to come back to find out how the day unfolded.

 

 

 

 

*  To their credit, the Auckland City Hotel provided Earl Grey tea in the room and large cups from which to drink it. It wasn’t Twining’s Finest, but it was perfectly decent; evidence, should one need it, that New Zealand is a civilised country.