Rotorua

Today I headed south to Rotorua. The fun thing about heading South in New Zealand means that every kilometer I drive further south is the furthest South I have ever been in the world in my life. Rotorua is known for smelling like rotten eggs and having a lot of adventure activities. The rotten egg smell comes from the sulphur that comes from all of the active geysers in the area.

When I arrived in Rotorua, it didn’t disappoint, the smell was very strong of rotten eggs. I quickly checked into my hostel and then headed out to check out the stinky town. Last week at trivia one of the questions asked how many people died in the 1886 eruption of Mt Tarawera, my team got the answer wrong but I decided to check out the remains myself so in case it ever comes up again I will know the answer. I went to a place called the Buried Village where the remains of the town destroyed by the volcano are located. It was basically a bunch of old buildings and artifacts from the time period around the eruption. The coolest part for me was at the back of the property was a trail that followed a river that had a really amazing waterfall. The official death toll was 153 people.

I also visited the Blue and Green lakes, named for the color they appear to be from the sky. There was a competition for boat rowing going on at the Blue lake between high school kids, it’s a good thing no one was with me to take bets because I wasn’t able to pick the winner a single time.

I also visited a redwood forest that was planted over 100 years ago from Redwoods from California. The smell of the trees reminded me of America. I’m looking forward to going to Yosemite on my trip to America in May.

It has been a while since I slept in a hostel and my first back night in one wasn’t pleasant. I got a top bunk right next to the door. The guy who was sleeping below me was snoring louder than I have ever heard anyone snore outside of a comedy movie. Every snore rattled the bed which made sleeping nearly impossible. There would be three progressively louder snores and then a slurping sound that would start the snores all over again. I kept laying there hoping that he would choke on his own tongue and die so that I could get some sleep. At one point in the night someone else in the room came over to our beds and shook them in an effort to get the snoring guy to stop snoring so that we could all get back to sleep.

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