Held captive by the Maoris

On a balmy cloudless summer evening, the Celebrity Solstice set sail from Auckland.  The Solstice is an engineering feat, certainly the most technologically advanced, modern, comfortable ship we have sailed on.   I'll write more about it later.

After a rather choppy first night (one of those where you have to sleep on your stomach so you don't roll out of bed), we arrived at our first port of call, the New Zealand city of Tauranga.  Like every city and town we have visited so far in NZ, it is very clean and well kept.  The locals are happy to see you there, and why not?  We drop a lot of cash in their community.  Tauranga is a seaside resort town, like Puerto Vallarta but about one-one hundredth the size.  More like Santa Cruz, California, but smaller and without the boardwalk.  It is a surfing Mecca with wide white beaches rolling down to the pounding surf.

From Tauranga, we headed out with our guide, Christine, for the trek to Rotorua.  The terrain is much like Northern California, specifically the Napa and Sonoma valleys.  It is a rich farming area where the kiwi industry got its start.  Mile after mile, you pass by kiwi orchards, just like the winery vineyards of Napa.  A slice of fresh kiwi and taste of kiwi wine (really sweet, like a dessert wine), and we were outta there.

Our destination was the resort town of Rotorua, which is pronounced kind of like Roto-Rooter.  It is popular for the same reason the small community of Calistoga is popular in the Napa Valley ... geysers, hot mineral pools, and mud baths.  Being built on top of a vast system of underground steam works, many homes in the winter depend on the steam to heat their homes.  That comes with a problem.  Christine told us that sometimes, a steam vent will open under a house, the result being catastrophic.  While we were there, we saw a vent that had opened right under a roadway, forcing the road to be rerouted. 

 The geothermal activity makes Rotorua a popular place to rejuvenate, the large historic resorts catering to the infirmed  and those who want to keep from being infirmed.  The rotten egg smell of sulphur is present, though not overwhelming, and being a warm summer day, Rotorua was packed with kiwis (New Zealanders) and Aussies here for vacation. 

 Rotorua is also on a large lake which reminded us of Clear Lake in Northern California.   The hills surrounding it are dried out from the lack of rain, and the shoreline of the huge lake is a bit stagnant, giving it more than a faint odor of decay (yet, one more reason it reminded me of Clear Lake).

Now, here's where the trip got interesting.  This region is still inhabited by an ancient New Zealand tribe known as the Maori.   As we entered their tribal land of Te Puia, the toothless chief came out of their temple with his sword-bearing tribesmen behind him.  He wanted to know, in essence, what the hell we were doing there.  He demanded to negotiate with one of the people in our party.  Kurt, being the trooper he is, volunteered.  There wasn't a lot of talking going on, more like a lot of grunting and chanting and threatening Kurt with a six foot long stick.  Eventually, the Maoris decided we were cool, they invited us into their temple where they danced a bit, chanted a bit, stuck their tongues out a lot.  To show their gratitude that we weren't there to rip them off or fight them, they invited Kurt up onto the stage where they pressed their noses against his nose, a gesture of friendship, and all was well.

Next, a sea day, then yesterday, Akaroa.

Before 2011, the cruise ships would dock at a port close to Christchurch, New Zealand's second largest city.   Now, they dock in Akaroa, a very small tourist town on an inlet of the Pacific coast. The is no dock here large enough to handle the big ships, so we anchored in the bay and took tenders to shore. After finding an incredibly fast high speed internet connection at the tiny lubrary here (99 messages in my inbox), we boarded a bus for the hour and a half drive, much of it through scenic mountain passes, to Christchurch.

The reason ships no longer go to Christchurch is because of the devastating quake in February, 2011.   The 7.3 quake destroyed the docks and about 90% of the downtown.   With a population of about 400,000, Christchurch was similar to downtown Sacramento.   In fact, the downtown area looked much like California's capital city in size and structure with modern high rises sprinkled among smaller historic homes and offices.  Today, there is little left.

While entire city blocks have been cleared, elsewhere the rubble is exactly where it has sat for the past two years.  While we toured the Christchurch museum (which did survive) and the Christchurch Botanical Gardens, which now in mid-summer are in full bloom, the main interest for most tourists is the devastated downtown.   Pedestrians are not allowed in most areas, partly because of the construction but also because of the lingering danger of collapsing buildings.  However, licensed buses are permitted to drive through.  As a reporter, I covered several catastrophic quakes, but to see the lingering destruction in this once quaint city makes me believe the Christchurch quake would have been worse than Loma Prieta, Northridge, Eureka, and Coalinga.  More than 300 people died here when multi-story buildings constructed in the 70s and 80s collapsed. And while the intent is to rebuild the city, the process is slow.   An interesting note, the government here has an "earthquake authority."  Officials inspected buildings and homes following the quake to assess the extent of damage.  Then, the Goverment paid each home owner up to $100,000 to cover damage costs.   Those with insurance could file for more relief should the damage exceed $100,000.   Not a bad deal ... But then on the other hand, a gallon of gas here will cost you $9.00 US.  And lunch for two with a couple of cokes and chicken sandwiches ... $45.