Mountains, Islands, Volcanos, oh my!

Had an awesome last weekend in Tauranga. Here's the breakdown:

Saturday
Joseph and I were awoken early by a little kid running up and down the hallway, screaming his annoying little head off. I was shattered when I glanced over at my alarm clock and noticed it was a mere two minutes past 6:30, when I normally get up during the week.

Joe had to go to work for a few hours in the morning, but asked me what I was up to in the afternoon. The White Island tour had been canceled for the day because the sea was too choppy to land safely, so I told him I would most likely head to the beach. He asked me if I'd wait for him, and since I had to do laundry, I agreed.

We decided to do the hour-long walk to the Mount. The sun was hot but it was a gorgeous day, so we lathered on the sunscreen, chucked a couple water bottles in a pack and set off. We chatted the whole way there, which I appreciated, as I had not been looking forward to the less-than-scenic parts of the walk through Mt. Maunganui's rather large industrial district.

Once we got into the village, a late lunch was definitely in order. I had wanted to try one of these Turkish take-out places that seem to be everywhere in this part of the world, as one of the Canadian girls from the Oz tour said they were the closest thing she'd yet to find to a good schawarma.

Schawarma it was not, but still quite satisfying. The meat was still stripped from a rotating skewer, but it missed the defining characteristics of unnaturally coloured vegetables and 10 times the legal limit of garlic. I enjoyed it though.

When Joe and I got to the water, two things happened that altered our plan:

1. The beach was PACKED! It seems the nice weather had brought out just about everyone from the area, and there was barely a patch of sand visible from the wharf.

2. I forgot a towel, and Joe forgot his bathing suit. Oops.

These are a mixture of the first time I did The Mount, and Saturday.This is the start of the trail to the summit (there's a base track around The Mount as well).


Time for Plan B... another climb up Mt. Maunganui. I'd already done it the weekend before, but Joe hadn't, and I was up for the exercise.

The sun was wicked, but we took the climb slow, stopped often for water breaks, and made it to the summit in decent time. We located a spot in the shade and collapsed for a good half hour before getting up to take in the view.

We took the shaded route back down, and came to the mutual decision on the way that on a hot day like this, beer was definitely in order. We found a bar in the village and nursed a couple of brews for a good hour.

A break about halfway up to take in the view.

It was getting close to dinner time when we finally left the pub, and had both come to the conclusion rather quickly that the walk back was not an option. Off to the bus stop, where we found that the last bus of the day had left 30 minutes before.

Frig sakes. Nothing in this frigging city runs after 5:00. It's ridiculous.

There was a German girl at the stop too, who was also trying to figure out how she was going to get back to Tauranga, and spirits perked up as soon as I remembered that there was also the option of taking the ferry back.

Parasailers can always be found circling The Mount's summit. I've seen as many as five at a time.

A quick jog back to the wharf informed us that the last ferry, too, had left at 6:00.

What. The. Hell.

We set off down the road back to Tauranga, and noticed that a lot of other tourists had also misjudged the bus/ferry times. We saw a couple Dutch guys walking along the side of the road with their thumbs sticking out, and giggled at them as we passed.

We stopped giggling about 30 seconds later... when they got a ride.

Joe was determined we could do the same for the three of us, but Danica (German girl) and I figured it was a lost cause, and stuck to the sidewalk while Joe tried to keep up by jogging backwards along the side of the road.

Unbelievable. Three minutes later, we had a ride back to the city. Two teenage girls on the way back from the beach. The tree of us squished into the back seat of their tiny car, and we were down the road.

We got dropped off at The Strand, said goodbye to Danica, and headed back to the hostel. Our early morning and long day had left both Joe and I completely exhausted, so we grabbed a movie from the front desk (we wanted one that required little-to-no mental capabilities: Dude, Where's My Car? held the answer), ordered pizza and didn't get up until it was time for bed.


Sunday
I had been informed Saturday evening that the White Island tour had been rescheduled for Sunday, and had eagerly signed up. The bus picked me up at 7:30, and after one stop to pick up a couple more tourists in Mt. Maunganui, we headed down the road to Whakatane.

It took about an hour to get there. We were dropped off at the front of the administration building, and sent in to collect out tickets. Before heading to the boat, however, everyone had to sign a declaration basically saying they wouldn't sue if the volcano spontaneously erupted and killed or maimed us all. Nice.

It takes two hours to get to White Island from Whakatane by boat. We definitely had a comfortable ride aboard the Pee Jay V:
I nabbed a seat right at the bow. Not as comfortable as the nice padded cushions in the interior of the boat, but I had learned quickly after the Bay of Islands cruise that a numb bum is definitely a small sacrifice when you've got a good view should marine life decide to join the voyage.

It paid off ten-fold. Not only did we get to see dolphins, but we ran into a pod of about 10-12 pilot whales. I think the pictures speak for themselves:







There was one dolphin who had decided to join the pilot whale party, and we saw a few others along the way as well. It was so awesome.

A view of the volcano as we waited for the inflatable boats to take us ashore.


Slightly delayed because of our marine-life detour, we arrived at the Island and were split up into three groups for the tour. On the ride over we were also given hardhats and gas masks to wear while we were on the island. The hardhats were mandatory, but the gas masks were only for use if the sulphur smell got too heavy, or if something big and boom-like happened while we were walking around.

The tour lasted about two hours and was really interesting. The sun was hot again that day, and of course walking around an active volcano tends to pump the temperature up a few degrees, but it was still fairly comfortable. The guides were very knowledgeable, both about the history of the volcano, and about how scientists monitor its current state. Their are cameras set up at various points around the island to check for activity, and of course a seismograph is always buzzing away.

Me in my hardhat and gas mask, standing in front of one of the steam vents. Can you smell the sulphur from there??


We saw a few active steam holes (VIDEO), the big sulphur lake, and got a general tour around the different craters. Guides were always eager to point out where eruptions had taken place, craters filled in, or on the more colourful side, where a disappointed sulphur miner decided to take his life.

Apparently mining sulphur on the island has been a bit of a white whale for those who have tried. They know it's under there, but no one has ever succeeded in finding enough to make the venture worthwhile. This has led to the mines, and the island itself, changing hands quite a few times over the years.

The sulphur lake right in the centre of the volcano. Scientists were worried earlier this summer that it might overflow, but it's been so dry lately that now it looks as though it's going to completely evaporate!



The land is now owned by a family named Bittle, who figured that the more lucrative endeavour would be to open the volcano up to tourists instead of miners. They have obviously been quite successful.

After the tour around the volcano, and through what's left of the mine, it was back on the boat for a well-overdue lunch and the ride back to Whakatane. The heat and sulphur seemed to have zapped our energy, and pretty well everyone found a corner to curl up in for the 1.5 hour ride back. I threw my iPod on and watched the world go by from the comfortable benches inside the boat. Life could definitely be worse.

The remnants of the old sulphur mine. The Bittle's have decided to let the island reclaim it naturally instead of dismanteling the structures.

Another hour ride back to the hostel, another movie, and another early night before starting my third and final week at the paper.