Cyclone Thursday

The bed in the alpin motel was so comfortable I didn't want to get up, especially when I heard the rain on the window. We had decided to visit two geothermal areas, one with geysers, and a waterfall, a waterfall where people go rafting down it no less, it would be awesome. So at the allotted hour we set off for hells gate, in the pouring rain. It was very close so it was still raining on arrival, and the wind was getting up. The helpful lady in the reception sold us all ponchos for $3, midsold as it turns out, and we set off for the hour walk round the area. Now it was raining raining, and blowing a gale. The features were quite interesting, hot lakes, mud springs, sulphur pools, a hot water waterfall, but the rain was lashing down and the ponchos useless, just plastic bags really. On the plus side we were the only idiots there, except for one couple who came up behind us, took a nice family photo, and hurried smartly on.

Name the Walters family member

 At last we arrived back at the reception where a very nice Maori gentleman showed us how to carve an intricate design on a bit of wood then let us have a go and bring them home. 

And this one?

Our works of art. 

The rain and wind showed no signs of letting up so we decided to go to the supermarket for breakfast supplies and then go to a nice lakeside cafe for lunch. Chris directed us to the lake, which looked enormous in the gloom and exceedingly choppy. We noticed a jet boat going out, rather them than me. A cafe loomed up out of the squall, but the fifty yard distance from where we would need to park was too much, we would drown. But wait, Ian spotted more parking round the front with a shorter distance to the door, so we went for it. It was very quiet, unsurprisingly, even though Rotorua is the Blackpool of New Zealand. Kathy and I had corned beef ( not like ours) sandwiches with three layers of bread, Vicky had a tiny toasted sandwich, Chris had a big bowl of wedges, and Ian had the biggest burger you have ever seen.  'What?' He said when we all gawped at his lunchtime choice, 'I didn't realised the giant mega burger would be so big!'.

Plan B saw us abandon any more outside activities as the storm kicked up another notch. A search on Vickys phone found that Rotorua museum is the only indoor activity within 100 miles, so we went in search of it. The mad dash for the car saw Kathy slip over and get even wetter than the rest of us, poor girl. The museum was much the same as those the world over, although it did have a quaint little theatre with a story about a volcano where the benches shook to simulate it's eruption. We decided to press on to the next motel in Taupo, another lake town. We booked in, and went in search of food, finding that the rain had at last stopped. We found an American style restaurant and were served by Sally. It became apparent that Sally was quite new, in fact it appeared that it was her first minute on the job. Her specials were written on pieces of paper and she literally bumbled her way through them. 'Do you want drinks she asked?'. 'Yes' said Ian, 'the lager on the middle pump'. 'Oh' sallies face fell 'I will go and see'. 'Do you have diet' asked Kathy. 'Er, not sure'. Sally took our food orders then smilingly went off, only to return a few minutes later to read them through with us ( obviously the boss had sent her back).' So it's ribeye for you'? To Chris. 'No, ribs!'. All in all it was a fun night out.

No rain when we came out either. It transpires that the storm was in fact the tail end of cyclone Ita, lucky for us to arrive in New Zealand at the same time as her.