Visiting Patty on the Farm: Part 1

I got a lovely surprise the other day when I checked my email and got an invitation from Patty to come and stay with her on the farm where she was Helpxing! How cool!

I drove about four hours north to a farm outside Thames, owned by a lovely couple who bought it about a year ago and are fixing it up. The farm is quite old and charming and reminded Patty and me of Grandma and Grandpa Denner's farm in Iowa. It was a fantastic place to spend my weekend, and I understand why Patty extended her stay there instead of moving on to other Helpx locations.

Patty had been feeding the Dexter cows pears from the tree every day, and by the time I got there, they came over when she called. In fact, if she didn't come and feed them, they started mooing for pears! This particular one was very greedy, so we had to be sneaky to get pears to the others.

Patty made friends with the two donkeys which the owners had inherited with the farm. They were a bit skittish at first, but they warmed to Patty and became quite lovely - especially this one.

The first day, this donkey seemed to have something in its teeth, and kept sticking out its tongue to the side, and Patty was so entertained that she joined in the fun. She also took pity on it and tried to get whatever it was out of its teeth; she never found anything, but it stopped looking uncomfortable, so we were happy.

Patty had jumped right into farm life, and even learned to drive a tractor!

These are peaches from their peach tree. Notice that they are fuchsia! I thought they were very beautiful looking, but didn't get to try one, as they weren't actually ripe yet. Maybe next time.

One of the jobs Patty had been doing was making dinner each night, which the couple really appreciated (as would I). She was directing me through boiling potatoes, making cold apple salad, and cooking silver-beet (swiss chard) and squash when it started to rain. She immediately dropped what she was doing and ran to get her donkey friends out of the rain, leaving me in charge of the kitchen. In case anyone has forgotten, I should never be left in charge of the kitchen; I don't know what I'm doing!

Luckily, I managed not to destroy anything while Patty was gone, and we ended up with a quite delicious dinner of things almost entirely produced on the farm, and resembling the delicious food that Grandma Denner used to make. I didn't contribute any skill to the process, but I also didn't actively ruin it. A resounding success!

After dinner, Patty and I took the cow dog (one of 5 or 6 dogs on the farm) on a walk through the cedar forest.

As it started to get dark, Patty told me how she'd gotten lost in the dark while walking the other night, and how it had been a bit scary. But the woods were so beautiful, and we were enjoying wandering...

... and we got lost. In the dark. Good thing Patty had brought her head lamp. Patty was a bit worried about being lost, but I was still feeling invincible after my non-destructive exploits in the kitchen. Perhaps a busy kitchen should actually be less scary than a forest at night, but I would pick it any time! So we kept walking and chatting until we found our way out. The only downside was that we had to climb over a barbed wire fence, and I tore my jacket. But I've stitched it up and it looks okay, so no harm done. Also, we weren't lost for long, because Patty came up with the good idea of finding the river bed and following it back to the lake near the farm. 

So ended a very lovely day on the farm, with another one coming.

Views from Paritutu

I'm sorry (as I always seem to be, lately) for the long gap between posts. I have had some terribly stressful things going on at work, which in addition to exhausting me during the day, are causing me recurring "stressmares" so that I don't get rested at night. The result is not pretty, although fortunately for me, J is a superhero and brings me tea, gives me hugs, and tells me everything will be alright. Which it will, of course. In addition, however, my year-long contract for my current job (a position opened up by someone on maternity leave) is up in three weeks. I know, it's hard to believe that it's been a year already! I still don't know whether the person is coming back, so I am in uncertain territory with the unsettling threat of unemployment hanging over me. While my job is currently horribly stress, I still love it overall, adore my children, and would rather not lose it, even aside from my total inability to be sane while unemployed.

The point of all this rambling is to explain that the combination of stress and fatigue is not conducive to writing blog posts, resulting in longer gaps between posts. I will try to rectify that, and I really believe that things will de-stress soon, so one way or another I should be back to weekly posts in the next few weeks.

In the meantime, I would love to share with you a truly wonderful afternoon I spent with J and one of his friends the other weekend. J is training to get in shape for a wilderness adventure and leadership course called Outward Bound, which is on the South Island in a beautiful, remote area, and is going to be amazing for him. Actually, he leaves the day after tomorrow, so it's very exciting!

Anyway, one thing he decided to do to train was to climb Paritutu, which is this huge rock right next to the ocean. I came with him and his friend for fun, and the views were absolutely incredibly stunning! I'll give you some background pictures beforehand, but be prepared for gorgeousness soon.

This is from the car, as we're driving up to Paritutu. See how it looks like someone just dropped a huge rock in the middle of flat land? 

Looking up at Paritutu from the parking lot.

Yes, that's the path. It's hard to get perspective on the incline of this picture, but I thought I'd show you the jagged rockiness of it. 

This one, thanks to the lovely J, gives you a better idea of the incline. In a word: steep! And as you can see from the parking lot straight below him, it is steep the whole way. You just climb straight up until you get to the top.

But man, oh man, is it worth it! Take a look at that view! I'm telling you, it was so beautiful I could barely stand it.

All seven of the little islands you can see from Paritutu are called the Sugarloaf Islands, according to J's friend who came on the hike and couldn't understand why I cared what the islands were called. Given his apathy, I did fact-check that, and discovered that he was correct, if not enthusiastic. I also discovered that the Sugarloaf Islands are the eroded stumps of an ancient volcanic crater. Pretty cool.

I don't know that I've ever been this high up and yet this close to the beach. It's cool to see the curve of the shoreline, and I love the waves from up above.

The water is such a mesmerizing colour!

Can you spot the amazing thing about this picture? 

That's right - the mountain and the ocean in the same shot! Mount Taranaki looks a bit small, especially next to the big white cloud, but it's there, tantalizingly close to the gorgeous ocean. We live in such an amazing place!

Monster Slide Down Main Street

Well, this weekend J and I had quite the novel experience: We slid 300 metres (.2 miles) down main street (Devon Street) New Plymouth on a water slide! Pretty cool, I think!

Monster Slide is a NZ company that travels around the country setting up these slides, which range from 100 to 600 metres. We paid $22 each to slide three times, which seemed a bit pricey, but worth it for such a unique and fun experience.

Sunday was sunny and hot, perfect for a water event. We went downtown and did a walk-around to take some pictures before getting our inflatables and leaving the camera in the car. Tons of people took their phones or cameras down the slide with them so they could take pictures of themselves sliding, but J and I have managed to retain just the slightest understanding that the moment should be enjoyed rather than photographed, so we did not join them.

It is impossible to get a picture of the slide that captures the coolness of it being down the middle of what is usually a busy street, but oh well.

At the beginning of the slide they had built a raised platform to get you going, but after that the slide relied on the natural descent of the road. J and I slid almost all the way to the bottom without stopping, but many people (especially lightweight children) kept stopping in the middle because they didn't have enough momentum. That seems to be the thing that people were most upset about, but fortunately J and I didn't have a problem.

There were people along the way to give you a push if you were slowing down, which was helpful. 

This is the view from the end, where there was a huge puffy lake of suds to land in (if you made it that far). 

Unfortunately, those suds also clogged some pump or another, which resulted in us waiting in an unmoving line for 45 minutes, which was not particularly endearing.

I found this picture online - it's not from the one in New Plymouth, and I did not take it (obviously), but I thought I'd include it since it gives you so much better perspective from up high.

PHOTO CREDIT: Taranaki Daily News

I also included this picture from the newspaper, because these two people were right in front of us in line when the pump broke, so I got to watch their gradual transition from "This is so fun!" to "Waiting is not so fun" to "I'm not happy now" to "Something must be wrong." To their credit, (especially for being teenagers, who are not known for their forbearance) they stayed calm and waited patiently. I am glad to see in this picture that when they finally got their turn to slide, that it was every bit as fun as they thought it would be.

(Note: The newspaper also got permission and took pictures of J and I, but clearly decided that these lovely kids were way more photogenic. A wise choice.)

Waimangu Valley Hike

The last thing Patty and I did on our trip to Rotorua was a hike through Waimangu Valley.

Waimangu Valley is the youngest geothermally active area in the world, and "the only hydrothermal system in the world the commencement of whose surface activity can be pinned down to an exact day, namely 10 June 1886" (quote from our Wanderer Guide).

(Note: You may well pick up on the lack of commas in the quotes from the Wanderer Guide. Kiwis do not seem to like commas, and leave them out in many places where I think Americans would use them. Interesting and a bit hard to get used to, but I'm getting there.)

It was an amazing walk, and I am extremely disappointed with the lousy job my pictures do to capture the impressiveness of what we saw. So... you'll all just have to come visit and see it all for yourself. That works out well, since you should do that anyway.

Echo Crater and Frying Pan Lake: "On 1 April 1917 the western basin of Echo Crater violently erupted. ... The deepened and enlarged crater quickly accumulated water and formed what is now known as Frying Pan Lake. The lake covered 38,000 square metres, being the world's largest hot spring. ... The lake water is acidic, while the carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulphide gas bubbling up gives the appearance of boiling. In fact in vents on the lake bed real boiling is occurring, but the body of the lake is somewhat cooler because of evaporation, convection and radiation of its heat" (quote from our Wanderer Guide).

This is Emerald Lake. Now, I know you're going to say that it is not anywhere near the colour of emeralds, and that's true. Apparently it fluctuates between brown and green, and they decided that
"emerald" was better than any of the brown things they could have named it after. So obviously we caught it on a brown day. Interestingly, though, while it looks like it's that colour because it's full of mud, but it's not. It's just the unique combination of minerals in the water.

These are Nga Pui o Te Papa (Hot Springs of Mother Earth). It is sadly difficult to tell in the picture, but everywhere you see something vaguely circular, there is hot water boiling up from the ground. If you look to the far right (in the middle up and down), there is a dark circle with white in the middle - that's water bubbling up. There were lots of those, but they don't snow up in the picture.
The hardest thing about taking this picture was the steam - every time I thought I was going to get a good picture, it would fog up my lens and I would get nothing. I ended up having to back way up and zoom in, and still had to wait for the right wind to come up!

This isn't an official attraction, just a hot river minding its own business, but I thought it was quite beautiful with the bright green moss, so it gets its moment in the sun.

Te Ara Mokoroa Terrace (The Long Abiding Path of Knowledge): "These silica terraces have been built by 'Spring N' which suddenly started life in 1975 as a small erupting spring. At the time, because of its site within the old Waimangu Geyser basin, it was felt by scientists that it might be the forerunner to larger events and visitor access to the crater was restricted for a short time. The name of this spring group maybe have been chosen to reflect the scientists' attempts to understand nature here" (quote from our Wanderer Guide).

This stunning place is Inferno Crater Lake. It goes in a cycle of filling, overflowing, receding, oscillating, and then filling to overflow again. You can see the white line of silica around it that marks its highest level, which it was moving towards the day we were there. Lucky for us, in the days when it's refilling, it is this unbelievable crystalline blue that takes your breath away!

Please notice that my hat matches the water!

Bird's Nest Terrace: "Striking multi-coloured algae adhere to the delicate miniature silica terraces formed by these boiling springs. The different colours are caused by the varying temperature in the outflow from these springs. Blue-green algae cannot survive at more than 75C (167F)" (quote from our Wanderer Guide). 

You can see the little snakey lines where there is no blue-green algae - must be very hot!

We found Clamshell Spring after passing several silica formations that we thought could probably be described as shaped like clamshells. When we saw this one, we felt a bit silly for having been willing to settle for the others, because it is so clearly the one and only clamshell.

Warbrick Terrace: "A set of multi-coloured fast growing silica platforms forming over an old stream terrace. ... In addition algae in recent years have assisted in the silica deposition to build a dam across the warm stream draining through the crater. A further series of ripple terraces are now forming at right angles to the original ones" (quote from our Wanderer Guide).

I'm not completely sure that I understand what all of that means, but the resulting formation is visually stunning and unique!

At the end of our hike, we reached Lake Rotomahana, which is a bird sanctuary. We didn't spend too long birdwatching, because we needed to catch the bus back to the beginning, but we saw heaps of black swans, coots, and ducks. We didn't spot any of the more rare native birds, but that's okay. It was a beautiful lookout and a nice way to spend our last few minutes before getting on the bus.

From there, we headed back home to New Plymouth, and I went back to work the next day. Patty spent the rest of the week with us, doing fun things around New Plymouth and coming to work with me for two half days, which was great. It's always nice to show people where I work, and how wonderful and exhausting it is. It was lovely to have her visit, and to get to see so many amazing things on our travels together! She is still in NZ, helpxing in the Coromandel at the moment, and having a great time!

Rotorua Thermal Walk

I apologize for the delay in posting this week. I have had a busy week full of injury, illness, conflict (at work) and exhaustion. Fortunately, most of these things are either already getting better or should be doing so in the near future, so my outlook is positive.

As for today's post, this thermal walk was something of an accidental discovery, which makes it quite fun to look back on and appreciate.

Upon leaving Wairakei Terraces, and on our way to Lava Glass Studio (of which I posted pictures back in August), we saw a brown sign that said, "Thermal Walk." In NZ, brown signs mean tourist attractions or historically significant places. I said, "Want to check it out?" and Patty said, "Why not?" so we drove down this little dirt road off the highway, meandering through forests until we ended up at this charming little house.

Notice the fabulous water wheel with the huge fish jumping over it.

We went in and found a little cafe, where we ordered tea and hot chocolate. I overheard the two people working there speaking to each other in French, and was excited but a bit shy about engaging them in conversation in French. Patty solved this problem by asking a complicated question in rapid-fire English, resulting in a lack of comprehension that necessitated a French translator. That broke the ice quickly enough, since my hesitation was overruled by my desire to be helpful. So, I got to enjoy speaking in French for a while, and we found out the both the people working there were helpx-ers (doing voluntary work in exchange for room and board) like Patty, so there were connections all around. Happy ending for everyone.

Anyway, after a lovely hot drink and bilingual conversation, we headed out into the property owned by the family that operates the little cafe, which happens to be very geothermally active. Interestingly, I realized that it had not occurred to me that a person could own and live on land out of which poured mineral-rich steam from the centre of the earth. Given that I know that geothermal activity is a normal occurrence in Rotorua, and that everyday things like parks and businesses are right next to bubbling mud pools, it probably shouldn't have been a revelation for me, but it was.

Near the beginning of our walk, looking across a small river valley at where we'll be walking. All that steam! It was like a natural, outdoor sauna!

The owners provided us with this little gadget that reads the temperature (I suppose that's called a thermometer, but it doesn't fit my image of a thermometer, so I'm not calling it that). 

Standing outside the cafe, the air temperature was 17C (62.5F). Five minutes into the walk, the air temperature was 28C (82F). Crazy!

Notice all the neat colours. You may have noticed a lot of pictures of mine include particularly blue water surrounded by particularly red/orange rocks or foliage - for some reason I find that stunning!

Having been quite impressed by the 28C (82F) reading of a few minutes before, imagine my delight and awe when I held the gadget up to a steaming hole and it read 90C (194F)!!!! I had to position my hand very carefully so that the gadget was in the heat but I wasn't, as my skin seems to have a silly aversion to 90C (194F)!

This is called The Dragon's Mouth, and you can see why! It's such an interesting formation, because it is so clear that the rock was molten when it formed into that shape - crashing and breaking doesn't give you that kind of form.

As with so many NZ attractions, there was a lovely bush walk to enjoy. Very pleasant and blissfully cool after the heat of all that steam!

Moral of this story: It's nice to travel with flexible enough plans and travel-mates that you can turn off the road at a random brown sign and discover a lovely and adventurous way to spend an afternoon.

Wairakei Terrace Walk

The next few posts I will write will be about Patty's and my trip to Rotorua last weekend. Patty is now off doing a bit more Helpx-ing for the next few weeks, before leaving NZ. Luckily for me, I still have plenty of catching up to do, because we saw so much on our short weekend to Rotorua. I am learning that Rotorua is like that.

On our way to Rotorua (and actually closer to Lake Taupo), we stopped at a little place called Wairakei Terraces (and Thermal Health Spa). We had gotten a discount on the entry fee on Grabone, which is nice, and I was also glad to go somewhere I hadn't gone with J on our trip to Rotorua last year.

Wairakei Terrace Walk is a lovely little loop, along which you can see many interesting geothermal sites, as well as learn about tikanga (culture) Māori. 

The terraces themselves are hard to see, due to the clouds of steam pouring out of the earth. Also, please note that the water looked much bluer in real life.

Anyway, these particular terraces have a foundation that is man-made, which guided the shape. They are now covered with natural silica deposits from the water bubbling up. Do you remember the pink and white terraces from my post about the Buried Village (last July)? Well, they had naturally formed in this beautiful shape, but since they were tragically lost in an earthquake (in 1886), these ones were made to emulate them. I know that it's nothing in comparison, but I was still glad to see their best effort.

My favourite fact about this area: 

"During times of intertribal warfare, the Waiora (Healthy Waters) Valley was considered a 'no war' zone where warriors from other tribes were permitted to bathe in a series of hot pools of varying temperatures, which were positioned along the stream. This allowed their wounds to heal and greatly assisted the rejuvenation of the mind, body and soul." (Quoted from our guide map)

This is just a simple bench area, but I love it because it is made out of ponga (fern trees), so the walls are growing new fern fronds all the time. I love the whole concept of living architecture!

Near the end of the walkway, we came across this carving, which we thought was pretty cool. What you can't tell in the picture is that the statue is twice as tall as I am, which makes it very imposing!

This is Ngatoroirangi, the powerful Tohunga and great navigator. Here is the story:

"After his long journey from Hawaiki, he landed at Maketu and made his way inland, looking for a place to settle. In order to claim the lands of Mount Tongariro, Ngatoroirangi had to be the first to stand on the summit. While atop the mountain, a southerly wind whipped his face, icy gales chiseled the warmth from his body while the frozen volcano cut painfully into his feet. As he lay dying, he called to his sisters Kuiwai and Haungaroa in Hawaiki to send fire to warm him. They dispatched the heat with the fire gods Te Pupu and Te Hoata. As they travelled beneath sea and land on their journey to the mountain peaks, they surfaced at White Island, Rotorua, Orakei Korako and here at Wairakei, sending spontaneous bursts of steam and billowing clouds skyward, testifying to the pent up energy beneath the earth, in the world Ruaumoko, guardian of volocanoes." (Quoted from our guide map)

At the end of the loop, we got to see the other side of the terrace area. At the top is a rather large and very enthusiastic geyser, which is hard to see because of the billowing steam it creates. If you look at the top of the steam near the middle of the picture, you'll see a splash of water shooting out the top. That was my best effort to capture it in a photo, and it does not do justice to the roiling, active water you see in real life.

Stay tuned for more pictures of our trip to Rotorua in the coming weeks.

Pukekura Park Lights

Every year in December and January (summer), the city of New Plymouth puts on an amazing light display in Pukekura Park. (For pictures of Pukekura Park in normal, unlit conditions, see my post in September called "Spring Walk in Pukekura Park").

My friend Belinda came up from Whanganui with her kids, and Patty and I met them for dinner and a beautifully lit stroll. Then Anna and Ollie came to visit (while Patty was off helpxing elsewhere) and they came with J and I. Everyone was very impressed, and we'll definitely make sure to go every year. 

There is live music playing all evening, from 6:00 to 11:00, and the lights turn on at about 8:30. It's not really dark enough for them by then, but it's still fun to walk around and do a little exploring as it gets darker. You'll notice that my pictures get darker and darker as they go on. I had to borrow Patty's fancy camera for some of them, because it dealt with the darkness much better than mine did.

This is one of the signature red bridges of Pukekura Park, with lovely lights above it. Also, the rowboats have lights in them, and are for rent to paddle around all evening.

The best part of all this is that it looks like a Monet painting. Love it.

There was a man blowing bubbles, and I decided to try bubble photography, then discovered that I could actually capture bubbles and Mount Taranaki in the same picture! How cool!

These jellyfish were one of the highlights for us. And I really love their reflections!

This (in case you couldn't tell) is a golden tree. The sign said that it was "hand sculpted," and there was some dispute in our little group about whether the whole thing was in fact man-made, or whether parts of real trees had been assembled and painted sparkly gold. I lean towards the former, but was overruled by the rest of the party. Oh well.

This waterfall had colour-changing lights in each section, and so showed a myriad of different colours and patterns.

Somehow the simple act of putting a floodlight somewhere near this ponga (fern tree) made it irresistibly fascinating to me. There were heaps of these, and I felt the need to stare at each one. They seemed both stately and ghostly, and I loved them.

This is a small lake with a fountain in the middle, and floating balls all around. Both the fountain and the balls changed colours and did all kinds of crazy patterns, which were rather mesmerizing.

I do not know how I managed to get these awesome bolts of blue in the picture which was just supposed to be of that awesome green tree. Perhaps an aquamarine angel was ascending at the moment, and I just missed her. But I thank her for contributing beauty to my picture on the way.

Here is the bridge again, only in full darkness, so as to appreciate the beauty of the lights and reflection (in a much less Monet-esque fashion).

Looking up from the bridge. The brown ones are like birds' nests with glowing eggs (perhaps the baby birds will also glow?), along with teardrop lights and waving flags of lights.

This was my attempt to capture exactly how many floodlights were in place here. It is completely dark outside, and the picture is taken across a dark lake, but the entire forest (and path) on the other side is brilliantly lit. When you're walking through it, it doesn't feel quite that overwhelmingly bright (thank goodness), but it is very impressively lit.

There was also a very impressive black light section, and a huge giant hanging in a hammock between two trees, but I couldn't capture them in pictures, so you'll have to imagine them. Or come to visit next December/January. You have a whole year to plan!