Opening the window in the van and letting in the smell of rotting eggs confirmed that we were in Rotorua. The town is situated at the heart of New Zealand's most dynamic thermal areas. The Maori revered this place for its rich thermal qualities, artesian springs and healing thermal mud and even today the population of Rotorua is 35% Maori. The combination of the thermal resorts and the chance to see traditional Maori villages (mocked up for the tourists anyway) means that this town is the most heavily touristed area on the North Island.
Bearing this in mind we hunted for the cheapest accommodation we could find as there certainly were no areas where we could park up for free. With our van parked at the back of the campsite next to a nice little compost heap we had an early night as we new there was plenty to do the next day and we wanted to make the most.
Sadly the next morning was spent at a scrap yard trying to fix the rear tailgate lock on Adolf the Van. It decided in the morning that it was not going to let me close it and that was final. We eventually got it sorted but that was the morning gone so it was straight out to Tikitere thermal spas for a relaxing wallow in a pit of volcanic eggy mud. Tikitere is an abbreviation of Taku Tiki I Tere Nei which means my youngest daughter has floated away in Maori but during his visit in 1934 to the area the famous writer, celibate and atheist George Bernard Shaw named the place Hells Gate which kind of rolls off the tongue a bit easier than the Maori word!
We walked around the park looking at all the mud geysers and steaming fumaroles but it wasn't long before we just had to get back to the spa and wallow.
It wasn't what I was expecting as I lowered myself into our private mud pool. The water on the top was scalding hot and the water at the bottom was barely warm. I was starting to wonder if we had got into some sort of rinsing trough as there was no sign of any mud until I realised that it had simply settled to the bottom. Katie was straight in there smearing the grey clag all over her face and arms and, well everywhere. It didn't take me too long to become equally as caked and there we sat. Constantly reapplying mud to the bits under the water and slowly baking a hard crust from the stuff exposed to the scorching sun.
After your allotted 20 minutes we were asked to remove ourselves from the baths and throw ourselves under some freezing cold showers before lowering ourselves into the sulphur rich hot pools where we soaked away the aches and pains of driving and sleeping in a van and got ourselves mentally prepared for the upcoming Hangi feast we were going to in the evening.
The Mitai tribe are one of several tribes and Maori villages in the area who host "cultural evenings" for tourists. They take you to their village, show you mock-ups of how they used to live before the Europeans came along, perform some dances and feed you the traditional Hangi meal which is basically meat, kumara, and potatoes cooked in a hole in the ground.
We were recommended the Mitai evening by the Motor camp reception plus it was a little cheaper than the others and we certainly weren't disappointed. We arrived with several hundred other tourists in buses, were split into two groups and introduced to our guide. We were also introduced to one of the tourists who had apparently been chosen at random, and agreed to be the "chief" and representative of the "tribe of the four winds" (us tourists). Incidentally he was an American guy and the idea of him being the representative of our collective 13 nations didn't sit too comfortably with me for some reason I can't figure out… but he didn't have to do much other than a quick greeting (nose touch) and few words to the Mitai chief and we were mostly just relieved that one of us didn't have to do it! The performance was outstanding, we were shown warriors canoeing and chanting up the stream, fight demonstrations with the various traditionally used weapons, some stories told through song and dance, and of course the famous "Haka" which was as intimidating as intended! They also explained some of the traditions of face tattooing and wood carving. Just as we thought it was over they had us on our feet and doing some Haka moves of our own, much to Paul's dismay! Luckily we were in the middle of the audience and looking around, soon realised that some others looked far more silly and uncoordinated than us! By this point we were starving hungry having saved ourselves for the anticipated feast, so were led back to the dinning area were the food was set out for us to help ourselves. We had been told to have as many helpings as we could manage, they'd never been known to run out of food. Everyone certainly ate their fill of the delicious food, the meat so tender and tasty as well as all the potatoes and salads. Not forgetting the genuine Maori chocolate log and trifle for desert!
Full to bursting the last thing for us to be guided on was a short walk in the ancient forest were we were shown the native trees and plants, the glow worms dotted around on the damp earth and an amazing fresh water spring where we could see the water pushing up from the ground below into the sandy bottomed, crystal clear pool. Also there to see was a large eel and a trout who were seemed to be resident to the pool and weren't at a perturbed by the flashing torches and cameras. It was easy to see how it was, and still is, considered sacred by the Maori.