Morocco

Guest Post: A Moroccan Christmas

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It’s a few weeks late, but here is the final one of the Christmas abroad posts that I harassed and pleaded fellow bloggers to contribute. This one comes from my good friend Byron over at Byron & His Backpacks, who’s travels are the source of much envy on my part. A top bloke and a top writer, and here’s his take on spending Christmas in Morocco.

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My friend Chris over at Aussie on the Road has been hosting a series of guest posts about Christmases abroad. In four days I’ll celebrate my second Christmas in South Korea and my forth Christmas away from my family. Not bad for 37 years, although the first 17 I wasn’t really in any situation or had any motivation to go anywhere but where my dad was driving for Christmas dinner. The most similar Christmas abroad came in 2001 when I was in Edinburgh, Scotland. My first Christmas abroad was unlike anything I’d ever planned. I somehow managed to end up in the middle of the Sahara Desert going from Morocco to Mauritania back in 1998. To keep a long story short, I finished university, felt like going travelling; once England turned too cold in late November, I caught a quick flight to Faro in the south of Portugal and then ended up in southern Spain and Gibraltar.

It was in Gibraltar I stumbled upon a telling tome, one that would encompass the next five months of my life. Africa on a Shoestring by Lonely Planet. When I flipped through the book and realized I could take a ferry from Gibraltar to Tangier, Morocco… a book was sold. Once in Morocco, as I continued to read I found Morocco and Mauritania had a One Way Border.

A what? Exactly. Essentially the Moroccans found it funny to let people go from Morocco into Mauritania, whereas the Mauritanians didn’t play that game. Get in Mauritania, stay in Mauritania.

So I had to try to do that.

***

Christmas Eve (24/12/1998)
– A Christmas Eve’s Busride

I’m able to catch the SATAS bus – aka ‘the Racing Camel’ – to Dahkla. Now this was a joyous 19 hour bus ride – the highlights are; the Harira (traditional Muslim soup) of Laâyoune, second and third place on Amazon Hunt II (pinball) in Laâyoune, discovering that there is a Arabic Comedy Radio show as everyone on the bus laughed the trip away, my mini 1-day Ramadan and, of course, the singing of the Mauritanian women as we were dragged off bus five times between 8pm and 5am for passport checks. Oh yah, lots of sleep THAT night.

Incidentally, if you want to know what the Sahara Desert looks like, sand. Lots and lots of sand.

 

 

Sunset over the Sahara, Christmas Day, 1998.

Christmas Day (25/12/1998)
– A sandy sort of Christmas

I arrive in Dahkla at about 5:30am and I know that if I sleep I’ll miss the convoy and I’ll be stuck in Dahkla until Tuesday,(Christmas Day was on a Friday in ’98) so a lack of sleep wins out. Now being as it’s the middle of Ramadan nothing opens on time, instead it opens late, if it opens at all. In order to join the convoy headed for Mauritania I have to go to three separate and distant places, fill out forms and get to the meetin gplace. The convoy ‘leaves’ at 11am and nothing opens until 9:30am. Do the math. I don’t have time to mess about. With the help of an Italian lady, who is also a late addition to the convoy, we get it all done. Whew!

(Byron 2010: Heh, my writing was very minimal 12 years ago, but it’s kinda fun to see how it’s evolved.)

At the convoy I end up landing a ride with a German fellow named Phillip after I trolled up and down the ranks of cars offering my charm and complete inexperience in desert travel. Philip, who is going to the desert of Mali in a Water Joe van. Water Joe is a caffineated water, which tastes just like water. I managed to grab an hour’s sleep in his van.

The convoy embarks at… 3pm.

Since I had to play “Dahkla Registration Race,” I didn’t ‘officially‘ have time to go shopping for supplies. I’m on short rations for the rest of the day (and next.) Philip and I spend much of the journey talking about the Simpsons.

In German, Homer doesn’t say “doh” he says “nein.” Then I try to pick up some German, much to Philip’s amusement. Philip is a great guy, during the next couple of days he will lend me; food, a thermalrest and most importantly, friendship. In return I think I gave him some laughs and a person to talk to during the desert trek. His tape player broker in Dahkla. Dammit, rocking in the desert to the Scorpions and David Hasselhoff would have been epic!

All I can truly say about the Sahara Desert Trek is that Ian (my brother) would have loved this ‘road,’ if he didn’t snap and curse out the whole country. I have never, ever, ever, ever seen a ‘road‘ quite like this. It was once paved, I don’t know when, or by whom or with what – I’d guess early 15th Century, but for at least 20 kms we experienced a sand-coated roller coaster ride!

This is also where I witnessed the picture above, one of the most amazing sunsets I’ve ever seen.

Around 8:30pm we reached the ‘campsite,’ well, it had 2 cement bunkers and… that’s about it. I was hoping to buy food here, but there is nothing but cement, sand and soldiers.

The convoy and the bunkers. Dec 26, 1998.

Oh, about the convoy, there are around 65 cars, plus about 10 motorbikes. These vehicles range from compacts to massive boxes on wheels called unimogs. I’d guess there is easily 150 people in the convoy, likely closer to 200.

Finally, eventually, thankfully Mario from Mozambique cooked up some cous-cous which was filling and good. (It must have been good to warrant it’s own sentence in my journal.)

I’d planned to call home at 8am, but there was no phone in the middle of the desert. But a concrete slab to sleep on inside the bunker.

Accommodation, New Zealand

New Zealand Hostels

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This is far from a conclusive list of New Zealand hostels, but having hit six cities in just over a week I’ve had a chance to stay in a few hostels and get an idea of them along the way. If you’re headed to any of the cities listed below and want a recommendation, I’d go so far as to say that every hostel we stayed in was perfectly acceptable and I’d recommend them to others.

That said, there are pros and cons to be weighed up. After all – your sleep depends upon it!

Christchurch – Kiwi Basecamp

Our first stop in New Zealand was the well placed Kiwi Basecamp, although it had only become our venue of choice after our first choice was damaged during the Christchurch earthquake earlier in the year.

Posing outside of the Kiwi Basecamp in Christchurch

Placed not too far from Cathedral Square (about a fifteen minute walk), the hostel certainly had accessibility in its favor. The bedrooms are modest and sport two sets of bunks and there are kitchens on both floors of the two story building. Kitchen space is at a bit of a premium, but points for the stylish (if not impractical) stools that are available to perch on as you eat. There is also an entertainment area in an unattached building behind the main one – a TV with Sky TV (cable) and a modest DVD library is on site. There are plenty of comfortable arm-chairs and couches to lounge around on too. Lock boxes are located underneath the beds for your valuables.

Other features that we didn’t take advantage of include a free airport shuttle between 8am and 8pm, free bike hire, a daily shuttle to the supermarket, and a free continental breakfast.

There’s also wireless available (for a price) and plenty of bathrooms and toilets so you’re not going to be fighting to take a slash. It’s nothing fancy but it will get you through a few nights relatively peacefully. The staff are friendly and (according to advertisements) multilingual as well.

Location – 8/10
Cost – Ranges from $23 for a bunk in a dorm to $45 for a single room.
Facilities – 7/10
Vibe –  6/10
Website: Kiwi Basecamp

Queenstown – Deco Backpackers

While I’d go as far as saying that Deco Backpackers was my least favourite of the New Zealand hostels we visited – it’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s well located just above the main street of Queenstown (although getting home does involve a rather unpleasant climb up a steep hill), has free wireless in its dining area, and featured a far better equipped kitchen than the one I’d encountered in Christchurch.

The dorm rooms are slightly larger than what we found in Christchurch, and while there is no lockers in your room, there’s free storage facilities on site. The free wireless access in the spacious dining hall is a real perk and if you’re lucky enough to be in a room close to reception you’ll get free access in there as well. There’s a large set of bathrooms in the back and a modest garden area for late night beers and card games.

Linen is going to cost you an extra $1 a night, but that’s not much in the grand scheme of things – especially given how cheap things are. It’s close to Queenstown’s bars as well.

Location: 8/10
Cost: Ranges from $27 for a bunk in a dorm to $80 for a Queen sized single ($40 per person)
Facilities:  8/10
Vibe: 7/10
Website: Deco Backpackers

Franz Josef – Chateau Franz Josef

I hadn’t expected a great deal from the grandly named Château, but it ended up being my hands down favorite place of the New Zealand hostels we stayed in. The entire dorm building gives off the vibe of a medieval tavern with its wood paneling, black and white photographs, rusty kitsch on the walls, and open living areas. After a few nights of feeling isolated in a crowd – the Chateau made us feel like we were part of a group rather than a pair of individuals.

The rooms are not only spacious but feature surprisingly comfortable beds, and there are heaters in every room to combat the persistent cold in the region. There is a large kitchen with separate dining and entertaining areas – and free vegetable soup is served up at 6pm every night. There are also discounts available for the nearby Monsoon Bar – which has a very good selection of food.

There’s a hot tub on site that we never did get the pleasure of taking a dip in, wireless for purchase, and board games are available for rent at the front desk. The staff are friendly and the place is (like all places in Franz Josef) nice and close to the main drag. There’s also free popcorn available if you want to watch a movie on their flat screen TV.

Location: 8/10
Cost: See website. Damned if I could find one.
Facilities: 9/10
Vibe: 9/10
Website: Chateau Franz Josef

Nelson – Paradiso Backpackers

We spent barely more than 12 hours in Nelson, but the city and the Paradiso did enough in that short time to make an impression. Paradiso’s first real drawback is that it lies a good 10-15 minutes walk from the city centre. They’ve also got limited wireless internet access that only operates during  office hours, which I found a tad limiting when you’ve got people coming and going at all hours.

The positives are a bit more numerous. The backpackers has a decent sized pool with the requisite BBQ and deckchairs, and there’s also an antiquated bus (affectionately named Bessie) that has been converted into a late night bar and party spot so that the neighbours don’t have to contend with drunken revelry at all hours. The staff we encountered were courteous and friendly (a first up to this point in our NZ trip), and there’s a free packet of ramen (two minutes noodles) with check in –  a big plus for those on a tight budget.

The hostel itself is a converted building with small but comfortable rooms and a large semi outdoor cooking area. As I said, we weren’t in Nelson long and we were in our hostel even less – but Paradiso looked like the kind of place I’d have enjoyed spending a few days in under different circumstances.

Location: 5/10
Cost: Range from $17 for a tent spot or $20 for a spot in a dorm to $99 for a luxury single room.
Facilities: 8/10 (Bonus points for Bessie the Bus)
Vibe: 8/10
Website: Paradiso Backpackers

Rotorua – Regent Flashpackers

Our first brush with the flashpacker phenomenon afforded us some much needed privacy. After sharing rooms from the 17th until the 24th, it was a rare pleasure to check into a room that was all our own. Suffice to say our belongings were strewn all over the place within fifteen minutes of arriving. There’s something to be said for the comfort of your own mess.

Attached to the more upmarket Regent Rotorua, the Flashpackers enjoys the same kind of service you’d expect from a top line motel. The staff at the Regent proper were not above helping out us poor backpackers, and Emma at reception was helpful beyond belief in arranging tours and transfers. The ‘private room’ we’d booked was no different than a regular dorm in that it had a queen sized bed and three bunks in it, but true to their word we were not sharing with any smelly Germans or drunken Aussies. To be honest the rooms were a tad small and basic, but the rest of the place made up for that.

There’s a basic kitchen and living area on site as well as a few spots to log on to the internet and check your mail. The bathroom facilities are spacious and kept clean by Emma and her family, and there’s even two on site mineral baths that can be used on request. We never did find the time though.

A big perk of the Flashpackers is that it is a short two minute walk from Rotorua’s ‘Eat Streat’ – where you can find everything from greasy fish and chip shops to classy cafes and eateries. It’s also a short walk from the lakeside park where markets are held every second Sunday, and within 10 minutes walk of the iSite where buses do their pick-ups.

Location: 10/10
Cost: See website
Facilities: 7/10
Vibe: 5/10
Website: Regent Flashpackers

Auckland – Verandahs

The last of our stops in New Zealand was the absolutely gorgeous Verendahs. We hadn’t stayed in any place I’d have called a dump, but Verendahs was set up in a cute converted house and every room had plenty of its own charm. The sitting rooms were more akin to what I’d expect to find in my grandmother’s than in a backpacker, although the absence of televisions was a shock after their prevalence in other hostels. Internet terminals and ancient CD players were the only sign of technology in these quiet rooms.

A short taxi ride from downtown and right by Ponsoby Road (where there are plenty of cafes to browse) – the staff here were friendly and helpful, and it was the only place we stayed in which bunks were not the norm in a dorm setup. In fact, this is one of their chief selling points on their website.

Fallon and I didn’t do a lot of exploring of the site itself, but there’s ample laundry and bathroom space to be had (the best showers we found in New Zealand by far) and you’re close enough to the city that you can have food delivered if you’re feeling lazy. I know we did.

Location: 8/10
Cost: Range from $27 for a dorm bed to $55 for a private room
Facilities: 6/10
Vibe: 6/10
Website: Verandahs

Activity Review, Auckland, New Zealand, Rotorua

Riding the Zorb in Rotorua

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Our whirlwind tour of New Zealand featured many highlights. For me it’s hard to decide between our hike up Franz Josef Glacier, our black water rafting adventure, and the sheer beauty of Milford Sound – but New Zealand had one more exciting adventure in store for us before we departed its fair shores.

From the day we first started discussing our New Zealand tour, Fallon and I were particularly excited about getting a chance to try out Zorbing. It seems nine people out of ten haven’t yet heard of this fascinating bit of leisure, so rather than try and paint you a word picture – here’s a video showing just what it is to zorb.

In case you can’t see it clearly – that’s a person inside of a ball with a few inches of water in it inside of a larger ball. You’re then rolled down a hill. It doesn’t lo0k particularly fast but trust me when I say it’s just about the most fun sixty seconds you’ll have in New Zealand. It’s akin to riding a water slide and being inside a washing machine all at once, and that’s a lot of fun.

It’s hard to make out, but that’s me tumbling down a hill outside of Rotorua in a zorb

There is also a dry zorb experience which, due to my recent Christmas over indulgences, I was slightly over the weight limit for. Still – I was happy to pay $98 NZ for three rides down the hill in the wet zorb, and I know Fallon had a hell of a good time rolling end over end in the dry zorb.

The whole zorb experience, which can be found just outside of Rotorua alongside a bunch of other thrill rides at the misleadingly named Agrodome, was a great way to farewell the stinkiest city in New Zealand and a good late Christmas present for the two of us. A flash drive full of our pictures set us back $29, and it was well worth the investment in my eyes.

Fallon trapped inside a bouncy case of emotion
Pretty darn excited to have just rolled down a hill inside of a water filled ball

The following day would see Fallon and I experiencing our black water rafting adventure in Waitomo, and then it was off to Auckland for our final day in the country. We may or may not have indulged in delicious Hell pizza not once but twice, but we’re on vacation and damned if we wanted to leave our hostel long enough to actually find food.

Auckland itself was a bit of a lull at the end of an action packed week and a half. We slept in, watched movies, and did very little else. The one real highlight of our trip was a day spent catching up with an old friend from my time in South Korea. Layton and I did a lot of drinking and drunken conversing in my time in Gwangju, and it was good to catch up with him and spend a day just exploring Auckland. A brief visit to the Victoria Park Markets, another to the Auckland Museum, and then an afternoon spent in a mall alternating between souvenir shopping and snacking. Our final purchase in NZ, barring our taxi to the airport the following morning, would be tickets to see The Tourist. No detailed review – it’s ok, but not something you need to rush out and see.

I guess after all of the fun and adventures of recent entries this one reads a little dull, and for that I apologize. But all trips have their less exciting moments, and Fiji was just around the corner with more excitement.

Links

Zorb
Hell Pizza
Victoria Park Markets
Auckland Museum

New Zealand

Rafting Waitomo’s Black Labyrinth

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The idea to tackle my claustrophobia and fear of death in dark places came from my good friend Deano, who spent Christmas of 2009 risking life and limb in New Zealand and loving every minute of it. One of his highest recommendations was to tackle the black water rafting available in Waitomo – about halfway between Rotorua and Auckland.

What is black water rafting? It’s much like white water rafting except that it takes place in pitch black caves and often involves throwing your inflatable tube raft over your shoulder to clamber over slick rocks. There’s some glow worms and a few waterfalls to leap off thrown in for good measure as well.

With our time in New Zealand winding down Fallon and I left Rotorua for the trip across to Auckland where we’d be spending our last day in the country. Rather than just take the six hour bus ride through relatively unremarkable scenery (especially after we’d been spoiled by the south island) – we opted to take a slight detour to Waitomo and join the Black Water Rafting Company on a run through their ominous named Black Labyrinth. Not to be confused with the more intense Abyss that they also run.

Having left Rotorua shortly after the sun had peeped out over the horizon, we arrived in Waitomo with me still bleary eyed and not feeling too excited about the prospect of squeezing my Christmas stuffed body into a tight wet-suit and spending a few hours of an otherwise gorgeous day hauling myself through freezing cold and potentially eel infested water. Had this really been my idea?

Things began in earnest with a bunch of introductions being made before we were introduced to our instructors for the day – Zane and Jory. Zane in particular realized full well how daunting the prospect of rafting in pitch black and sometimes uncomfortably narrow underground passageways might be to a newcomer – and he was jovial and supportive from the moment we began searching for wetsuits to the moment we’d emerged blinking into the bright day a few hours later.

The process begins with the all important change from casual clothes to the far less glamorous wet-suits and helmets. It’s hard to stay nervous about what lies ahead when you’re laughing at the English guy who puts his suit on inside out or the Aussie dolt who is trying to wear a jacket that is about three sizes too small. I am said Aussie dolt. By the time we’d all squeezed into our damp suits and deposited our belongings in a crate for safe-keeping, most of us seemed to have forgotten that we’d even been nervous.

Our brave crew prepares to enter the Black Labyrinth

 

 

A brief stop for a pose and then we were all piling into the van for the ride out to the national park where the various local companies run their underground adventures. We arrived to the gawking stares of picnicers and bush-walkers, and made a discrete move over to where a small horde of black rubber tubes had been arranged. It was now time to pick the device that would come between us and having to dog paddle our way through the caves, and more fun was had as we forced our butts in and tried to see what would fit us best.

The all important test drive was next, and the tubes were conveniently placed by an idyllic looking stream with a deck jutting out over it. One by one we backed up to the edge and launched ourselves back into what we would discover was surprisingly cold water. Some of us took to it beter than others, and I learned the importance of an adequately inflated tube as I disappeared underneath the water where others had simply floated.

Changes were made and some last minute instructions were given, and then we threw our tubes over our shoulders and embarked on the hike to the caves. In truth, this mini bush-walk was probably the most physically draining part of the day – and we lost two of our party before we’d even begun to head down into the caves. You don’t need to be a marathon runner by any stretch, but this is an active pursuit and you’re going to be sorely disappointed if you’re expecting an air conditioned van to chauffeur you around.

We came upon the cave about twenty minutes later, and it didn’t look like much. A tiny creek trickling down into a hole which, sure enough, we were asked to enter one by one. Once beneath the earth we each perched upon a likely looking rock and posed for photographs before the real adventure began.

 

Checking the stability and fit of our tubes
A split second before I disappeared completely due to an insufficiently buoyant tube

There were some hairy moments, I won’t lie. Very early on you’re asked to float underneath a low roof that your nose comes close to scraping. I had a moment of panic as I pictured myself becoming stuck between the stone and my tube forever, but soon enough I’d emerged out the other side and felt all the better for having succeeded.

There are other tight squeezes, a pair of waterfalls to leap blindly off (the higher of the two is around 3 metres, but the leap is not near as terrifying as you might imagine), and you’ll doubtless hear a surprised squeal or two when somebody feels an eel brush up against their leg.

Posing underground. Who looks terrified?

But there’s beautiful moments as well. My favorite part of the whole trip was the serene journey through a long cavern lit only by the fey blue of the glow-worms that dotted the roof. Zane added to the atmosphere by humming the tune to My Heart Will Go On, which didn’t sound half bad echoing off the walls as we moved in near total darkness. Head lamps are provided, but there are several parts of the trip where we were asked to turn them off.

It didn’t feel like much time had passed, but soon we rounded one last corner and came upon a cave that opened out into the forest. After an hour or so of blackness with only our headlamps for illumination, it was a bit dazzling to see the sun filtering in through the dense forest of the national park.

Soaking wet and more than a little cold, it was time for a few more photographs before we headed back to base for a much needed shower and a bite to eat. The company provides a complimentary cup of tomato soup and a bagel to all who complete the course, but there’s a well stocked cafe on site if you’re after something a little more elaborate.

With Fallon and I needing to kill a few hours before our bus came to whisk us off to Auckland, we bought a CD of the pictures from our trip and whiled away the afternoon sunning ourselves and trying to decide which had been the highlight of our New Zealand trip – zorbing, Franz Josef Glacier, Milford Sound, or Black Water Rafting.

It’s a pretty cool dilemma to have.

Nelson, New Zealand, Rotorua

Celebrating Christmas in New Zealand

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Christmas Eve in Nelson

There’s been a string of entries on here lately about celebrating Christmas away from home. We’ve had Fallon from Fallon’s Healthy Life and Heather from The Kimchi Chronicles talking about their experiences in South Korea; Heather from There’s No Place Like Oz and Hannah from Hannah DeMilita talking about their plans for a Christmas in Australia; Brooke from Brooke vs. the World talking about her Christmas in the Ukraine; and we’ve still got one to come from Byron and His Backpacks about the Moroccan Christmas he had a decade ago.

This year Fallon and I found ourselves on the shaky isle for the big day, and we were lucky enough to have made some new friends in Franz Josef to ensure it was a special occasion. We arrived in Nelson late in the day after a nine hour bus ride from Franz Josef. We’d again opted to go with Naked Buses, but the budget travel company redeemed itself with a delightfully chatty bus driver who ensured we got plenty of rest stops and a bit of sight seeing time along the way. It also helped that the bus actually had suspension so we were able to get plenty of sleep on the way.

The highlights of the trip were the rest stops obviously. We snatched a moment with a drooling cat at one nameless roadside cafe and spent a good half hour exploring dour Greymouth over lunch. The real treat of the entire trip though was a chance to stop and explore the famous Pancake Rocks. I had my doubts about how interesting it would be, but walking the paths surround by high thickets of grass put me in mind of a scene out of Jurassic Park. And when we finally emerged to take in the wind-swept cliffs and churning ocean beneath, it was totally worth rousing myself from an iPod assisted nap. There’s just no shortage of stunning terrain in New Zealand.

We arrived in Nelson at around 7pm and I think it’s safe to say that none of us was really feeling the Christmas spirit at this point. Fallon and I checked into our surprisingly nice room at Paradiso Backpackers (with complimentary two minute noodles/ramen) and quickly changed for our dinner date with Jay and Jon. Christmas Eve didn’t see a great deal of cafes open, and downtown Nelson resembled a ghost town as we sought for something slightly more nutritious than Burger King. Jay insisted that we check out the Freehouse bar (a converted church) but it didn’t offer any food as far as we could see, so we instead opted for the odd combination of Mexican and Indian cuisine at Mumbai Mexico.

The proprietor was a friendly guy who not only assured us we’d not find a better burrito in Nelson, but also guaranteed us our money back if we weren’t satisfied. We couldn’t resist such promises. Fallon and I shared a plate of nachos and a plate of butter chicken – and were surprised to find that the Mexican food cooked by the restaurant’s clearly Indian staff was far better than their Indian. We all toasted the occasion with some ice cold Coronas and Lime, and I then made the step up to the deceptively potent $15 Singapore Sling. It might seem a steep price – but they cram half a bottle of wine’s worth of alcohol into a tall glass full of fruity deliciousness. It could well have spelled an early night for me – especially after I was given the enviable task of polishing off Jay’s marguerita at dinner’s end.

As far as dining goes – my Nelson recommendation would be to check out Mumbai Mexico for its Mexican food and its cocktails, but I wasn’t too impressed with its Indian fare. Fallon’s more of a Mexican conisseur than I am – and she said the nachos were the most authentic tasting she’d had in the southern hemisphere. Big call.

Fallon and I at the Nelson Carols by Candlelight. Photo by Jay Foo.

After our dinner and drinks we went off in search of a bar but were instead grabbed by the sound of caroling. Before too long we found ourselves clutching flickering candles and joining the masses on Nelson’s cathedral steps for Carols by Candlelight. We’d made plans to attend a midnight mass, but the community spirit and beautiful carols did the trick for us – and a rousing encour of Silent Night was the perfect finish to a pretty magical piece of happenstance. I even learned a Maori carol that I think I might just try and introduce into the family album next time I’m home. Very sweet tune.

With the caroling done and midnight rapidly approaching, we retired to Accents on the Park – an upmarket looking hostel where Jon and Jay were spending their time in Nelson. A rousing game of Phase 10 ensued in the hostel bar, and some beer and pretzels spelled a pretty good end to a surprisingly good day. With Fallon and I having a 7am flight in the morning it was time to say our goodbyes though, and we faced the sad reality of farewelling two pretty cool people before we made our way back to our hostel for some shut-eye.

Christmas Day in Rotorua

Not a lot needs to be said about our two Jetstar flights between Nelson and Rotorua, although I have to commend the staff on both flights for their upbeat moods and liberal application of chocolate and cookies to the sleepy passengers. It definitely brightened my morning to see those little extra Christmas touches such as tinsel on the overhead lockers and a Santa hat on the pilot.

To say I was at a zombie-like level of tiredness by the time our shuttle had arrived to whisk us to our hostel would be an understatement, but sleep wasn’t yet an option. Fallon had reserved us some much desired privacy at the Regent Flashpackers but we had a lunch date to attend before we could take advantage of the situation. While Regent Flashpackers might not be the nicest or the most equipped of the hostels we’ve stayed it, its staff have been second to none. Emma at reception is an absolute darling and has done a lot to ensure our time in Rotorua has been smooth. Her first favour to us was arranging a $10 ride out to the Rotorua Skylink station with Grumpy’s Shuttle – a cute little ‘Mom & Pop’ organization here in Rotorua that seems to have the market cornered on getting about town. Both Grumpy and his wife (affectionately known as Mrs. Grumpy about town) are cheerful and very willing to offer their advice on potential things to see and do about town.

We arrived at the Rotorua Skylink and took the leisurely ride up the side of the mountain. The Rotorua gondola doesn’t really compare to the stunning views offered in Queenstown, but it was a briliantly sunny day and the prospect of a special Christmas buffet at the top did plenty to make the trip up seem all the sweeter. Our reservation was for 12.30 but the staff were kind enough to let us in an hour early, so we snatched up our complimentary flutes of champagne and donned silly hats before digging in to the buffet. I can’t say whether the standard of food at the buffet is always as good as what we got on Christmas Day, but it was a damned fine feast. It wasn’t a patch on my mother’s punch and seafood salad, but there was plenty of scrumptious options and the wait staff were all friendly and eager to snap a photo or two for us on request.

With full bellies and heavy eye lids we wanted nothing more than to just retire to our room for some shut-eye, but we had a complimentary luge ride to do and we weren’t going to waste it. I’m glad we did it. Jay and Jon had told us that the luge rides were addictive, and I could definitely see why after my five minute jaunt through their scenic route. If my stomach hadn’t been so unsettled I’d have considered buying a second ride, but the prospect of a nap at the bottom of the hill was too strong. In true Christmas tradition, I followed a gorging lunch with a few hours of hibernation.

We woke late in the day and exchanged the stockings we’d assembled for one another in Queenstown before heading out to find something for dinner. Rotorua’s Eat Streat was right on our doorstep, but Christmas meant that very few of the trendy cafes and eateries were open. We opted for Lovely India – which boasted of having the best butter chicken in town. Feeling generous, I sprang for their banquet and Fallon and I indulged in the day’s second exercise in binge eating. I can’t comment on the other butter chicken in Rotorua, but if there’s better to be had, I’d love to try it.

The remainder of our Christmas Day was spent in bed in our hostel. Not doing anything suspect, parents – but watching Elf and A Christmas Story until we were too tired to keep our eyes open. It might not have had all of the trimmings of a Christmas at home, but good friends and good times meant that my homesickness was blessedly limited. Nelson and Rotorua had both turned out their best, and my second Christmas away from home was far better than my first.