Rotorua, The Tamaki Māori Village and Hobbiton – the Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn of northern New Zealand.
Whistle-stop tours of North Island gems were, by this point in our trip, becoming routine. Less time means more fun, and more fun means credit cards and overdrafts. Alas, without a credit card and with NatWest’s extortionate interest rates on current account overdrafts, the continuation of drugs peddling and erotic dancing funded our onward travels. One stop on our return leg through the everchanging north island landscape was Rotorua – Gimli.
Rotorua smells. Through no fault of its residents, however bean-heavy their diet may be, the flatulent ambience is set by the sulphuric gasses that escape through the earth’s watery buttholes: the famous Rotorua hot pools. The smell isn’t the only trait Rotorua shares with Tolkien’s most famous dwarven soldier. In the opinion of many, including my own, Rotorua comes up short against other Kiwi travel destinations. The hot pools are, as always, fascinating and the surrounding nature is pleasant, but there just isn’t enough for a spin-off movie. The town is okay, it has some places to drink and some public toilets… but it provides no real lasting memories when compared to the run of impressive supporting cast members. Rotorua remains best as a sidekick to greater things. I remember you can go luging here, but it’s best to save that cracking experience for Queenstown.
Just on from Stinksville is the Tamaki Māori Village – Legolas.
Set amongst the drastic greens of a native Tawa forest, the Tamaki Māori Village is at first sight a magical, mythical realm of ancient spirituality and heritage. The guests are greeted by song; the hosts arrive by boat in a show of fire, primal weaponry and stern, all-knowing looks. It is a real world Lothlórien, without the massive green screen. An ancestral sanctuary for broad-shouldered warriors with fierce body ink. The inhabitants (though I largely suspect they live in Rotorua) talk in duel dialects and have distinctive features that make it hard to confuse them with tourists. They are Māori: New Zealand’s first settlers and winners of three Rugby World Cups. We chose to stay the night in the village, playing games and feasting with our gracious hosts. At the end, we slept in a large, orgy-like yurt that stank of unwashed mullets and pavlova. The Māori’s taught us some basic Māori language and even a catchy little song that I fail to castrate from my memory even today, some five years later. Like Legolas and the entire Elven community, the Tamaki Māori Village was bewitching, full of ancestral wisdom, and distinctive from the other members of New Zealand’s beautiful cast. I would say that despite its popularity among invitees, it was there mostly for the show and probably best left in the original trilogy. Much like Legolas in The Hobbit, to include the village stay in another tour around New Zealand might just spoil the thrill one got from it first time around. Take nothing away though, the village and its residents were a beautiful thing to behold.
Then, there was Hobbiton – Aragorn. Though the land may be manipulated and the beauty of it be born completely of fantasy fiction, Hobbiton is undeniably charming and the crowning glory of North Island tourist attractions. You do not have to be Lord of the Rings fan to appreciate Hobbiton – much like Aragorn, it’s good looking, well-crafted and inoffensive. It was hard to pick faults with our day out in the Shire; the sun was shining, the queues were short and the mead at The Green Dragon Inn was cold. The entire place was just so pretty; the camera kept shooting as if automatic. The Hobbit holes and wavy green landscapes around them, like the one ring itself, just wanted to be captured. There was an obvious ‘exit through the gift shop’ feel to the place, but it was to be expected for what was essentially a studio tour. However, as visitors we were left to roam freely and never felt pressured to spend money unnecessarily… but how can you not buy an overpriced official map of Middle Earth or a replica of Gandalf’s pipe-weed pipe from Peter Jackson’s back garden?! Ultimately, much like Gondor’s rightful heir, an expedition around New Zealand would not be truly complete without Hobbiton. It is famed and revered for good reasons and well worth the price of an admission ticket.
"At my signal, unleash hell"
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