Taupo

A late start today allowed us to sleep in. We got on the bus and headed for a geothermal area about a half hour outside of Taupo (which we have learned that the locals pronounce as “TOE-paw”).

We once again noted the unusual topograhy of this area, with many hills and mounds that have been created by volcanic activity long ago, but are now covered with topsoil, grass, and trees.

Many acres of Monterey Pines, a non-native species brought more than a century ago from California, cover these hills, and many other places in New Zealand, as part of commercial tree farms.

The geothermal activity in this area is evident, also, in the fact that electrical power here is generated by a large geothermal power plant. Steam from the earth is channeled to turbines to generate electricity.

Our destination, Orakei Krako was once a Maori holy site, then became commercialized by white settlers, and is now back in the hands of the local “iwi” or tribe.

Part of the site was drowned by a hydro-electric dam built on the Waikato, New Zealand’s largest river, in the 1960s. So, our tour began with a boat ride across the lake from the visitor’s center to the site itself.

The site is much more compact than Yellowstone, but the various springs, pools, and geysers (or guysers, as they spell it here) are very reminiscent of what one sees there. The walk was a little over a mile and a half, mostly on wooden board walks constructed over the mineral-laden soil.

A highlight was the mud pots, that were boiling away madly. But the sun was so hot that we were all boiling a bit when we couldn’t find shade.

After crossing back over to the visitors center by boat once again, we were served a very nice lunch, and got a chance to see some of New Zealand’s famous eels swimming in the clear lake water.

After lunch, we took a short bus ride to Huka Falls, farther downstream on the same Waikato River. It’s not the biggest waterfall we’ve ever seen, but the volume of water, and the color of the water, are nevertheless impressive.

Finally we visited the Aratiatia Dam, the hydroelectric project that caused so much damage at Orakei Krako. For some reason, it is necessary for the dam to partially open its flood gates four times each day to release a large volume of water.

Why the release isn’t regulated to constantly release an amount of water equal to that building up behind the dam, as most dams in the U.S. do, wasn’t made clear. Perhaps it’s just another example of British engineering, as we encountered so frequently when living in Nottingham.

In any case, the water comes cascading out of the dam at appointed times, and people come to watch. Alarms are sounded as warning, because these human-created flash floods have caused deaths in the past.

On the way back from the dam viewing site, I managed to get into the midst of a conversation between two Tui (TOO-ee), the bird with two voice boxes, so it can harmonize with itself. In this instance, they were using their normal calls, and not imitating another bird or other sound.

By this time, it was mid-afternoon and the temperature had risen into the mid-80s — and honestly felt a lot warmer than that to Minnesotans so recently transplanted from winter. So we called it a day. The bus made a stop at a local supermarket so that we could stock up on items for dinner. Beer and wine seemed to be the commodities most sought. Then we returned to the hotel and enjoyed a dip in the pool and some cool adult beverages.