TAUPO

Taupo sits on the edge of a lake of the same name, which in turn fills a huge crater blasted into the ground by the eruption of a volcano many centuries ago that makes Krakatoa look like a damp squib. It prides itself as being the trout fishing capital of the world and every competition weekend the population is multiplied almost as many times as the size of the ones that got away. Gaze across the lake at sunset for a picture of the pink snowy heights of Mount Ruapehu on the horizon.

We had been invited to stay in the holiday bach of Ian and Margaret, turning our nose up at the option of the Huka Lodge that charges $3750 per night for cottage accommodation. Margaret is a sister to Duncan from Napier, who is a University friend of Edryd, who is Marc’s first cousin, once removed they always hasten to add. They were waiting for the bus and drove us back to their bach then left for home, leaving us to it. The house was so comfortable and cosy that we spent a lot of our time over the next few days just relaxing and reading after poking around antique shops and walking along the lakeside.

We did venture a little further, firstly hopping on the Taupo Hot Bus to the Craters of the Moon. Created by changes in underground water levels and shifting pressure with the building of a geo-thermal power station, Craters of the Moon is a vast steaming landscape of dried-out scrub scattered with craters and boiling lakes of mud and water. When we visited five years ago, closed shoes were the only permitted footwear in the park and notices warned visitors to stay on the paths. Since then, someone must have melted their flipflops by wandering off the straight and narrow as visitors are now requested to stay on a new boardwalk. We spent a couple of hours ignoring the notices and peering down into the hissing and simmering depths, watching birds flying in and out of their roosting places in cosy nooks on the side of the craters.

The next stop on the Hot Bus was the Huka Falls. The Waikato River is wide and slow flowing until it reaches the Huka Falls where it thunders into a narrow chasm, shoots out of the other side and drops ten spectacular metres into a churning pool. It has to be seen and heard to be believed. The Huka Jetboats will take you for a soaking at the foot of the turquoise falls but we opted for a nice dry walk through the bush upstream and gave some visitors that hailed from Auckland some tourist information and advice about things to do in the area!

We bought thermal long johns and tops in the sales at Taupo ready for the chilly nights on the Inca Trail. Marc had a nice black set and I ended up with green, black and white stripey ones as the only other ones left were too short in the leg and my stride length would have been somewhat restricted. They were too much of a bargain to leave behind (I wonder why) but I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to venture out of our tent in the Peruvian night in my zebra suit.

Just before we left Taupo, we booked another permit to visit Kapiti Island Nature Reserve, hoping for better weather this time and that the boat would not be cancelled again. We were staying for a couple of nights with Kay and Hallam at Paraparaumu – just across the water from Kapiti. Kay is a sister to Dave from Tarawera who is another university friend of Edryd. The bus journey from Taupo to ‘Paraparam’ was beautiful. We travelled along the lakeside for many miles, then took the Desert Road into the Tongariro National Park and stopped for a Kodak moment to capture the snowy trio of Tongariro, Ngauruhoe and Ruapehu. We stepped off the bus and it was like a different world – it was absolutely freezing and I took my photos peeking out from behind the bus, sheltered from the icy blast.

Hallam picked us up from the bus station and explained that he and Kay were going out that evening but that we were to make ourselves at home and they’d see us later. No sooner had we stepped into the house than we were clutching the largest glasses of wine we’d ever seen and toasting ourselves in front of a roaring fire. Our supper was cooking in the oven and later on, we may like a soak in the hot-tub on the deck, overlooking the beach. Is there no end to the generosity and kindness of people here towards strangers with the weakest of connections that just descend on them from nowhere?