Sheep. Sheep everywhere.
We drive through New Zealand’s sea of rolling, pleated green hills, each one speckled with what appears to be small snowflakes but in actuality are trotting, bleating livestock.
Up close, the heavy wool of their shanks swings like pendulums as the sooty sheep easily navigate the slippery wet green hills, while others relax and graze: their necks jerking upwards, vigourously tearing the plants from the volcanic soil.
There is so much space in New Zealand. So much pure, unspoiled earth. Ovie, Shannon, Kelsea, Julia and I depart from Rotorua in our rented Toyota, packed to the brim with all our backpacks and food, and we set off towards Matamata- a farmland town that is known as the location of Hobbiton- the main city of Tolkien’s halfling Hobbits.
As we wind our way along the left side of the curvy roads, we make our way into the small, secluded farm, and before long we’re standing right next to circular wooden doors to hobbit holes.
Outside the gate of Bag End, Bilbo’s house, I see the famous sign still stands, reading:
“No Admittance: Expect on Party Business” and I think of how Sir Ian Mckellen as Gandalf walked through the same gate back in 1999 when they filmed what would become one of my favourite films, ever. There was definitely an aura of imagination surrounding the whole place; the remnants of both brilliant, meticulous creativity; and artistic labour, construction, and design. Very humbling.
It was an overtly commercial, tourist-infested trap, and I loved every minute of it.
Ovie, being of course the die-hard, hardcore fantasy/science fiction film fanboy that he is , decided to opt out of Hobbtion on account that it would “wreck the magic that he enjoys so much.”
After one night in Matamata we were on the road again, forsaking hobbit holes for actual, naturally formed holes in the ground: the Waitomo caves.
Apart from the amazing limestone formations, the stalactites and stalactites, the Waitomo caves are famous for glow worms.
We traveled in the underground Grotto on a small canoe. The group was silent, with the soft cool blue glow of thousands of fly larvae casting the only light around the chamber like distant stars. The guide navigated the grotto by tuning on a series of ropes, the only slight sound the lurching of the boat and the ripples of water.
It was a sleepy, dreamlike experience- these glow worms feeding, metamorphosing, and reproducing in the deep, dark silence of the caves for thousands and thousands of years, seemingly forever. It was a privilege to witness.
We then traveled another long distance inland to Turangi, a small fishing town just south of Lake Taupo. The cottage was rustic, but the price was right. We spent much of our time drinking red wine (our rule: only NZ wine while we stay in NZ) playing cards and stoking the fire. This relaxation was short lived, though, as the next day we headed around the scenic lakeside road into Taupo, where this happened:
I can tell you one thing- we have felt like a million dollars ever since. Conquering that fear liberates the soul like nothing else. If we can do that, what else can stop us?
After, we enjoyed more beautiful scenery at the Huka falls (another part of the Waikato river out of Lake Taupo) and enjoyed a coffee.
We had our first fish dinner that night- Lemon and Herb Salmon Fillet with soy vegetables and sweet potato home fries. Eating well has been a priority for Ovie and I, and we know that we will never starve while indulging in NZ’s fresh local produce and meat and dairy.
And tomorrow? How about a 20km alpine hike through volcanic mountains? Sounds like a a good way to spend a morning.
We'll see you on the other side,
-K & B