with a wet and cold afternoon to spend in wellington, we headed for “te papa”, the highly touted shiny new national museum. much of the most important exhibits centred on the role and history of the maori people here in new zealand. i found it extraordinarily moving for a number of different reasons. because the story of the maori people is both alike and unlike the story of indigenous people everywhere. alike, in that as with the native americans, australian aboriginals, paraguayan guarani, and other native tribes the world over, the shameful story has a hauntingly familiar refrain: europeans arrive, europeans exploit, europeans steal, europeans destroy. decimate land, customs, lineage, independence. strong and proud peoples reduced to whatever menial status the white man sees fit to allow.

lather, rinse, repeat.

but unlike the similarities in other colonised nations, the maori story has a very different outcome. because the maori have managed, in spite of the overwhelming odds, to rise above the tragedy of history and change the ending by commanding respect and retribution. in spite of having their rights and lands stripped from them, they have persevered and reclaimed their dignity. they demanded acknowledgement in a way other native peoples have been unable to. there is nowadays, a resurgence in maori pride. thier language is an official language of the country. their traditional ways and customs are being invested in and preserved. their remaining lands have been restored to rightful ownership. and perhaps most importantly, in 1998, they received a long overdue, unreserved and abject apology from the government for their gross dereliction of duty. this alone sets the maori history apart.

and you feel the impact this has had. while history cannot be undone, and wrongs cannot be righted… pride and heritage can be preserved and protected. and, in fact, recalimed by a nation as an integral part of its national identity – for *all* kiwis. collective ownership which ensures future collective responsibility. maybe that’s what other countries are so afraid of. it’s easier to pretend it never happened.

but it’s an impressive testament to the future of a nation when it is both humble enough to look backward, and strong enough to look forward. a lesson that more could learn from. a hope that others might follow.

i’m always intrigued by the endless variety of ways that people travel. from those who pack giant makeup kits in their wheeled hardsiders and watch weeks worth of soap operas hanging out at the backpackers, to those who make it their personal mission to see how long they can go without a shower, carry only an extra pair of undies, hitchhike across large landmasses, and think wearing brightly coloured woven clothing = “going native”. we’ve met people who’ve taken ten months to do the same routes we’ve done in in four, and we’ve met people who’ve been on the road for more than 2 years and don’t know when they’re going home. we’ve met people who called thailand/oz/nyc a “round the world trip”, and people who *only* go to the most obscure and difficult countries they can find. there are people doing the luxury packages, and people who are working their way from one city to the next. it takes all kinds i suppose, and i always end up feeling that we fall somewhere squarely in the middle – not too long, not too short, not too hard, not too soft. just right – for us, anyway. i find it strangely comforting.

i suppose it all comes down to different strokes for different folks. some might call our middle of the road approach boring. i call it anything but.

well tongariro never happened. it was rainy and misty as all hell, and even though i’d probably still have attempted it in the rain, there’s really no point if you can’t see more than 100 metres in front of you. sigh. big time disappointment.

however we went to the cute little town of napier, which was flattened by an earthquake in the 1930s and rebuilt from the ground result – the end result being an architechturally fascinating collection of art deco buildings. i love gorgeous architecture, so i was in heaven – okay, i went a little snap happy. it was like walking through the set of a movie. ever see “pleasantville”? yeah, just like that.

however the rains have continued to plague us all the way to the south of the north island, so not much to write home about. a few aborted attempts to see coastal scenery, and find the imaginary colony of fur seals alluded to by our horrible guidebook (never, ever buy the “footprints” books, they’re just rubbish!) we’ve settled into a comfortable camping routine, and become experts at finding the nicest rest stops to spend the night at (yes, yes, it’s illegal, but *everyone* does it…) and i’ve become quite the 2 square foot chef.

we’re headed for the south island today, and hoping mightily to escape the wet… i blame kerryn (who has reportedly jinxed us for sending him a postcard from fiji…)

the photos from rotorua and waitomo are here - see if you can spot the glow worms

til then, my pretties!

london really should look into getting itself a few thermal hot spring pools. soooooo nice….

blah – a full day of heavy cold rains. lake taupo is the largest lake in new zealand, but we’d never know it because all we could see was mist and rain and more mist. there’s precious little to do indoors in taupo in the rain – the town revolves around outdoor and adventure sports. sigh. we’re hoping to do the tongariro crossing tomorrow, but since we can’t even see the massive bloody mountains at the moment, it’s looking grim.

fingers crossed… i have my heart set on this.

there are times when refusing to buy into the package tourism industry is so unexpectedly gratifying. for example, the other day we were leaving rotorua and started to head towards taupo with the hopes of doing the tongariro crossing hike (one of nz’s “great treks”), but the weather was looking increasing crappy, so we decided on a whim to veer off to waitomo instead. waitomo is principally known for two things: caves and glow worms. both j and are are somewhat non-plussed by caves at this point, but we were interested in seeing the glow worms and the scenery the area is reknowned for. as we drove, we passed through mile after mile of emerald knolls and valleys, lakes and ponds nestled in the foothills, and plush forest packed with firs and giant ferns. as j said, “it hurts your eyes trying to take it all in”. we arrived in waitomo and found it chock-a-block with “adventure companies” offering (expensive) myriad opportunities to see the glow worms while spelunking/abseiling/tubing through the caves. to be honest, neither of us fancied the disneyfied tours, and we’d decided to try to save our mad money for snowboarding on the south island. so once again we decided to strike off in search of the road less travelled.

we wound our way up the narrow little backroads to see the spectacular vistas from high above the town. we found our way to the remote but truly impressive marakopa waterfalls. we did a d.i.y. tour of the spooky piripiri caves. we browsed through the nearby town of otorahanga and did some souvenir shopping. and at nightfall, we headed down to the banks of the waitomo river, where we explored the deep gorges, limestone caves and tunnels (in the dark!) and yes, even saw thosands of the glow worms, scattered amongst all the nooks and crannies and ceilings like tiny blue fairylights. the sounds of the forest settling down for the night, having the trail to ourselves, and the growing dark all combined for an wonderfully atmospheric twilight experience. we had such a memorable time, and it was so much more rewarding than shelling out gobs of money to be hustled through with a hoarde of gawkers.

sometimes the best things in life really are free.

new zeand is a land from another time – everywhere you look, there are elements of the prehistoric, traces of an existence tied to the birth of the planet. a land shaped by the earth’s violence, creating a preternatural beauty.

we begin in rotorua, at the center of creation, the birthplace of a nation. the destructive forces which littered the land with the most astounding scars, creating jewels from the ashes. the waiotapu thermal park is full of hissing, spitting and rumbling earth – geysers and boiling poisonous lakes, scalding steam vents and dangerous mud pots. these are reminders that we inhabit these islands only at mother nature’s discretion. you can read the evidence of upheaval in the surrounding landscape, deceptively green, yet born of fire and crush. though many fearues have existed here for eons, some are more recent – a warning against complacency.

we wend our way to the vast lake tarawera area. an enormous crystalline lake lying in the shadow of mt. tarawera, who flipped her lid in the late 1800’s, killing many and leaving an ominous jagged crater looming above the placid waters.

and then we visit the redwood forest. while not native to the area, these have been here for more than a century, and the ancient giants have been known to live for millenia. interspersed with towering primeval ebony ferns, they create a forest reminiscent of those that would have existed when the first humans explored the continents.

there is something about a redwood forest which is like a sacred chapel – humbling and solemn and overwhelming in grace. the eyes and heart are lifted skyward. steps fall silent in the spongy loam underfoot. sunlight filters through the canopy far above like through the rose window of a magnificent cathedral. decades and centuries are recorded within, a constant of history.

men are born and die, wars wage, seas shift, planets twirl, meteors tumble, cities rise and fall… yet these simple trees are everlasting.

it puts our own short, insignificant lives into perspective. it is awesome.

(old post from fiji, sorry!)

every so often, in the interest of keeping the budget balanced (particularly in more expensive cities like singapore, or kunming, or fiji), j and i have elected to stay in dormitory accomodation. and although i am usually a good decade older than many of the other occupants (though by no means all) i’m not usually bothered by certain immaturities. after all, i was 21 too, not so long ago. howwver i feel the need to take this opportunity to pass along a few choice words of wisdom, which will serve them well in their future travels. let’s just call it “dorm etiquette”.

1. please do not leave your mobile on – no one wants to be woken to “auld lang syne” when your drunken mate from london rings you at 3 am.

2. do not fart. it’s not funny. if you are unable to refrain from farting in public, shared accomodation is not for you. if others fart in their sleep, giggling is uncalled for. again, it’s not funny. if you think farting is funny, shared accomodation is not for you.

3. if you know that you snore like an outboard motor, please be kind and do not inflict this on other strangers (who you may find yourself trying to score with later). find another snorer and share the costs of a room.

4. don’t try to score – this is not the set of “big brother”.

5. if you set your alarm, wake up and turn the damn thing off.

6. dorms are for sleeping only – not partying. see rule # 4.

7. do not try to pack at dawn – you’re not nearly as quiet as you think you are.

8. if you’re in late or out early, for god’s sake, *do not turn on the light*. learn to un/dress in the dark like every one else. if this is not a skill you have mastered, shared accomodation is not for you.

9. the unwritten law of dorms is that you don’t look while others are dressing. don’t be a perv. if you’ve never seen the opposite sex naked, then you’re too young for the dorms.

10. whatever you do, for god’s sake, *don’t turn on the light*! you will be murdered in your sleep. don’t say i didn’t try to warn you.

we arrived in NZ today! picked up our little campervan (which is soooo cute!) and are at our first stopover in rotorua, where tomorrow we will go check out the thermal pools, bubbling mud, and geysers (which they insist on pronouncing “geezers”). i’ve been to yosemite in the u.s., but j’s never seen any of this before, so should be fun. the scenery is just stunning – if this is what it looks like in winter, i can’t even fathom how beautiful it must be in summer. j and i keep saying “there’s a hobbit! over there!” the overall impression is that it looks like the worlds bumpiest golf-course.

meanwhile i am practicing cooking in the hunchback position. made a steak and potato and salad dinner (not bad, if I do say so myself) and i believe i now have permanent scoliosis.

me and j cooped up in 8 square feet of space for 3 weeks – should be a giggle!

more soon y’all…

so we’ve been off the grid, quite literally, for about 9 days now. sporadic electricity, rainwater for washing, and no internet access. i’ve not seen or heard what’s happening in the world… and i havent really cared. amazing how that happens.

but that also means i have a lot of back-posting to do, so catch up with the stuff below. still lots of photos waiting to go up – i’ll let you know when i manage that.

tomorrow is our last day in fiji – and though it’s been wonderful, i am very excited for new zealand. sadly enough, i’m actually looking forward to cooking our own meals! you wouldn’t think a body could get tired of eating out all the time, but you do.

anyway, nice to be back, and hope everything is still in one peace…

jen

update: the fiji photos are here, the australia roadtrip photos are here