Barbecues, Bitches and Boiling Beaches..
Trip Start Sep 09, 2004
394Trip End Ongoing
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In the last two months, the people I have met along the way have been great. Some better than others, some just fantastic, that have left their little print in my world and who I have stayed, and will stay in contact with. But on the whole, extremely good. Well tonight I met the first piece of shit I have come across in New Zealand. As it happens, it was a female. I don't even know her name and don't care to. From the minute we arrived at the campsite, she started - talking down to people, questioning, bitching, moaning, complaining and generally behaving arrogantly. If it wasn't the room being too small or the wrong shape, it was certainly the wrong colour. There wasn't enough showers on the site, the kitchen wasn't long enough, it was too late to eat and the food wasn't up to scratch anyway. There wasn't enough lights and things were difficult to see. And there wasn't enough space in the fridge for her food. Everything was way below her standards and she wasn't going to put up with it, she was off to go and complain. I don't think she noticed that out of approximately twenty six of us, she was the only unhappy one. Yes of course it was basic, but the food was wholesome and the company was even better. Every single soul had a pleasant night tonight, cos' that's what you do. You make it that way. It's a simple choice. She happened to be from England, and cared more for her hair-straighteners and lip-gloss than the sunset, the basic but adequate food, and the good people who shared it.
She finished the evening by drinking far too much wine and stating quite clearly that 'well either way, tomorrow night I am wearing my new black dress, I'm not putting up with this shit' and generally insulting one or two of the other girls, who probably hadn't seen a black dress in quite a while yet offered good, interesting conversation and warm company. Well we didn't want to put up with 'this shit' either, though I don't think she realised that she was in fact, the 'shit'. They never do, do they?
She is not at all representative of the general 'traveller' I have met so far. She is quite the opposite. She is nothing more than an immensely shallow girl on holiday, in an attempt to fulfill her unimportant petty desires. In many ways, it's a shame. If only she knew what she was missing. Maybe one day she will.
I'm already aware that I have spent far too much time dedicating a slight percentage of this travelogue to an even slighter piece of shit. So I'll stop. It's off my chest now.
I woke early this morning as I often do. Generally, once I wake I can never settle so have to get up, even if I'm still tired. Everyone else was asleep and I was getting snores either side of me in stereo as well as either side from the bunks above me - I'm not sure what you would call that. And for the record, women snore far worse than men. I got up quietly and stepped outside the porta-cabin. I had bought some eggs and mushrooms yesterday for this morning's breakfast on the way up from the caves, but my eager-beaver belly wasn't ready for them yet so I took a stroll. It was getting on for 8am and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, or a breeze for that matter. It was a glorious morning. Literally, three or four minutes across the camp site and I was on the beach - the Pacific this time, and it had been a while since we had shared a moment. I didn't venture down on to the sands due to my 'still weeping' feet, but just perched myself between two partially grassed dunes and lay back against my pack, in the morning sun - just me and the Pacific.
I woke up forty minutes later and headed back to make breakfast. 'Drew' was loitering outside the kitchen block when I got back. I had met him in Raglan on the 'Pub Bus'. He was there for a few days to surf and absolutely loved the lodge so had stayed on a few days extra. He asked me what my plans were next. I hadn't thought too much about it to be honest. There was a bus going South to Rotorua at around mid-day and I wasn't getting on it, I knew that much. The Coromandel is renowned for being stunning and at Christmas, in the height of the summer holidays, it's flooded by Kiwi's who go on holiday there. Well that certainly says something about the Coromandel, so I'm staying put. Problem is there isn't a bus, so I'm gonna have to hitch, which is bit of a shit as I've got two day packs now, a hefty main pack, as well as my guitar. Which would all be quite manageable normally, don't get me wrong, if I could walk properly.
Shortly after breakfast, a few of us went to Cathedral Cove for a wander and a few shots. I could see instantly why the locals like it - it's stunning.
Later, we visited 'Hot Water Beach' which is famous for it's geothermal activity. At low tide, people gather round the 100 metre 'hot spot' to dig down and make their own hot spa pools in the sand. I'd heard about it but couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it, let alone 'felt it'. When I found an available space I sort of 'twisted' my foot down in to the sand until 'Aaagh shit!' - retracted my leg as if I'd been bitten by something nasty. It was like a freshly boiled kettle! Scalding! I couldn't believe it. The idea is to mix it with enough sea water to get the temperature you want, then relax. There were loads of families all over the beach, sitting in their little man made spa pools, relaxing in the afternoon sun while steam rose up from beneath them. How bizzare? Bad news for my foot though which had opened up again due to the salt water. I've already sworn so I don't need to. I guess it's back to square one.