I took the short flight back to Rotorua regional airport from Christchurch satisfied that I had at least seen some of the South Island and was now trying to get back to Tauranga where my brother and his family lived. I had to get a bus from Rotorua airport but after waiting around there for a couple of hours ,there seemed to be no sign of transport. What looked like one of the pilots asked me what bus I needed. When I informed him, he said he'd never known a bus to come at the time I specified and he's lived in the area 23 years. I told him that I saw an earlier bus fly by and he told me that was probably my bus and they forgot to pick me up. Now the legendary Kiwi hospitality kicked in. Without any effort from me, the man told me to hold on while he checked the busline on the phone. He came back out to where I was sitting and told me the next bus would be 2 hours from now. I groaned. That would be half a day wasted hanging around. Again he offered to take me back into Rotorua bus terminal, about 2 miles down the road, if I'd agree to wait until a small commuter plane arrived in half an hour. Apparently he was a taxi man. I agreed and when no one showed up off the commuter plane I ended up being his only passenger for the ride into town. I found out he originally came from the Middle East and gave me a 'captured audience' tourist guide to Rotorua. This town is world famous for its Maori culture and it's where the modern Maori have settled down in large numbers. Rotorua in the Maori language means ' two lakes' and the land the town is built on is a volcanic fault line where thermal springs, mud pools, and geysers abound. Steam rises up from the ground in spots and the Maori have long known to manipulate this source for cooking large communal feasts they term 'hangi' , enormous barbecues if you like.

Rotorua is also known by many different names, depending on how you experience the city. 'Roto- Vegas' is one name because of the heavy tourist nature of the place but when you come to it you cannot help but notice something decidedly different about the town. Something you can't see but can certainly smell. 'Sulphur City' would be an apt name as sulphur fumes permeate the air there. It's like the smell of rotten eggs, however don't be discouraged because after a while you don't notice it. North Island has the majority of the Maori living in New Zealand, numbering about 300,000. You'll come across more place names such as Whakatane, Papakura, Tokoroa, and Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu, which means in English ' The place where Tamatea, the man with the big knees, who slid, climbed and swallowed mountains, known as landeater, played his flute to his loved one'. Aw right, have pity on anyone asking where that is! Colourful place names have helped to retain the 'MaoriTanga' or culture and when we arrived in the town you could immediately see the totem wood carvings on buildings and elegant tree-lined avenues. You'll also get to see the Maori themselves but try not to stare at those Maori who have tattoed their entire faces with 'Moku' designs. Still that didn't stop me from almost tripping up on the pavement as I stared at one long-haired native. The women also tattoo themselves but not as lavishly as the men. The 'Moku' designs are a sign of 'upper class' in Maori society and they look decidedly fierce. Another fierce measure of the Maori centres around their 'Haka' dance. This is a war dance usually done before going into battle and a version performed by the All Blacks Rugby team is a sight to see. Rotarua is a place not to be missed and was marked later on my agenda. Once I got on the bus back to Tauranga, it became 'barbie time'. Naturally my brother wanted to known how far I'd gotten. When I told him Milford Sound and I had racked up 1600 kms on the rental, he exclaimed ' Jesus, I wouldn't do that in 3 months driving let alone 5 days , you must have stuck the camera out the window as you were speeding along '. Not quite , I said. I did slow down now and again for some sheep but since the speed limit was 100 I never got to break it. 'Oh, No ' , he said, and asked me what speed I was doing, about 70 mph. His hands went to his face like someone not wanting to see something. 'They're Kilometers, ' he said. I replied I didn't see any police around. I was told that speed traps abound whereby lazer guns are hidden by the roadways, in the trees etc. and they take a photo of the license plate of the offender. 'What address did you give them at the rental?' ' Eh...yours' came my reply. Hands covered faces again. It was now time to wind down for some family outings,such as trips to 'The Mount' (Mt. Manganuei in Welcome Bay), Bethlehem gardens and winery, numerous neighbourhood 'barbies', a soccer match, outings with my brother's kids and half the neighbourhood's kids in tow before I ventured further afield. I still wanted to tackle a bike ride before the holiday was over so as I completed paperwork for a rental in Tauranga , I waved goodbye to my brother as I got into the car. For a split second I blinked and thought ,'where's the steering wheel?' 'God, your dangerous to let out on the road ', my brother remarked laughing as I scrambled to get to the driver side before anybody else would notice. I wouldn't get very far sitting in the passenger seat!!!