Topic: TN: Less is Maori (New Zealand, pt. 20, long, many img)
Author: Thor Iverson (Boston, MA)
Date: 20031118183756

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Los Angeles

Darth Vader and the pelvis

New Zealand

Waiheke and the malbec fetish Five wines with penguin All in the family Heaven at the Green Dragon Inn High, fast, and stupid The glacial pillow Training day Kiwi rugby & the undecanted aria Boxers and pinot These mist-covered mountains Blonde at Brun A Cloudy day The road, taken South, north, east and west Syrah noir Flamma fumo est proxima Complexing the pinot Fumo fumo est proxima

Our pain, the rain, falls mainly on Champagne

A thundering herd of drummers beats us to consciousness.

Awakened not by birds but by a short deluge of near-biblical proportions, we escape our lodgings at the first sign of a break (though the thick ceiling of cloud won't break at all, today) and drive north for more sulfurous wonderment.

Wai-o-tapu (Maori for "sacred water") is the most impressive of our thermal visits thus far, though a light yet soaking drizzle continues to obscure some of the larger sites with the steam it creates. Geysers, waterfalls, tall "anthills" of mineral deposits, brilliant yellow forests of sulfur crystals, pools of sickly green and oily black; it's a mélange of natural and modern art writ incomprehensibly hallucinatory. Its best-known site is the Champagne Pool; gold, arsenic, and a host of other chemicals macerating in a carbon dioxide-effervesced chalice of poisonous water. We abstain from taking a sip.

After a short, wineless picnic under a terrace, our next stop is Te Wairoa, a village preserved by the murderous eruption of Mount Tarawera (the same that obliterated the Pink and White Terraces, frequently-named candidates for "eighth wonder of the world"). Carefully-excavated Maori whares (huts), including that of the shaman who both predicted the eruption and miraculously survived its fiery tempest, dot an outdoor walk preceded by a fascinating verbal history delivered by a direct ancestor of the Maori chief that discovered the area. Theresa skips both, choosing to relax – dry, for a change – in the visitor center's tea room, a gently-tinkling pianist the only sound disturbing her restful peace.

An attempt to proceed to Rotorua, the commercial center of all that is oozy and smelly, is met with another impossible wall of rain. And so, we once more retreat indoors, this time to the Bath House Museum, home of historical Maori artifacts (clearly the highlight of the exhibitions, which include more traditional artworks) and two excellent short films – one on the eruption of Tarawera, the other on Maori participation in World War I's ANZAC force.

Wai-o-tapu and Te Wairoa

Hangi ten

But all this rain-escaping is really just a way to pass the time before the day's central activity, unquestionably the most touristy thing we'll do on our entire trip: a "traditional" Maori hangi, complete with performance and dinner, at the Maori Arts & Crafts Institute at Whakarewarewa.

Rain falls in an unfrozen version of a whiteout, making driving the kind of high-risk activity one would expect in Queenstown rather than Roturua, but the staging area is warm and dry, and its open studio gives us a chance to examine Maori carvings in various stages of completion. The performance – a bit truncated due to the impossibility of outdoor activity – is highly enjoyable, though I find myself wishing for translations and explanations. Plus, the leader of the dancers has a cold that makes him sound like he's re-experiencing puberty whenever he does speak.

Scenes from a hangi

Dinner is about what one would expect, a mish-mash of competently-cooked simple food and some non-standard additions, and rather than wine I sample a few of the brewed offerings of the pride of the South Island's West Coast, Monteith's. The Black is strong and flavorful, but lacks midpalate punch to balance out the experience and seems both short and simple, while the Original Ale is bracingly but not overwhelmingly hoppy and thirst-quenching, though again one would wish for a bit more complexity. Our table includes an extremely well-traveled and friendly Dutch couple, a rather snooty American couple who clearly feel that amiable conversation is beneath them, and a pair of very young Brits on a budget holiday; it's a fun way to compare experiences and share the little bit we've learned for those with continuing travel plans.

Ancestral R. artwork

Outside, an eerie (and nearly rainless) silence makes a dry-docked Maori war canoe the threatening site it's meant to be, and one of our hosts stops us to observe a late-evening eruption of the Pohutu Geyser, glowing (thanks to lights), steaming and roaring into the cool night air. We drive home, sleepy and thoughtful. And a bit sad. For tomorrow is our last full day in New Zealand.

Bath time

Hints of blue sky peek through the retreating clouds. For the third day in a row, we've been fooled by the weather forecast, which predicted heavy rain and cold temperatures. Well, they've got the temperature right, at least. Donning jackets and sweaters, we once again head northward for the streets of Rotorua.

St. Faith's, an Anglican church with a Maori interior and one of the most remarkable windows I've ever seen – Christ in a Maori chief's robe etched into glass and appearing to walk on the waters of Lake Rotorua behind it – is our first visit, along with the imposing waterfront cemetery and marae (meeting house) alongside. Sidewalks leading back up the hill pass small suburban houses with a twist that we'll never forget: here and there, behind bushes, underneath flowerbeds and between cracks in the cement, hissing, sulfurous steam vents skyward, and little puddles of grayish mud bubble. How could anyone could ever get used to this sort of thing?

Rain, which has been threatening to return all day, finally does, and so we picnic in the car (filling it with crumbs) before doing a little shopping for gifts and souvenirs. But after all this touring, much of it cold and wet, we deserve a little relaxation, and a visit to the historic Polynesian Spa satisfies with a soothing hour in its restorative mineral baths. If everything around us smells like sulfur, we figure, why not us as well?

Courtney love

Back in Taupo, we pick our way along the shoreline on a bracing five-minute walk, tossing pumice stones into the chilly wind and watching them float back to us. But we're not here for the stones, or the wind. We're here for wine. In a generous book-end to what has been a majestic vacation, Sue & Neil Courtney have come down from Auckland to join us in Taupo, bringing wine and a little collaborative cooking to the hotel next door to ours (one much better-equipped to handle guests and food preparation).

And so, with some bottles from our luggage, some from the Courtney cellar, and a few free samples, the four of us assemble a small feast and chat into the night, revisiting experiences both soul-changing and banal. Sue is probably most entertained by our story of the lone accessible radio station on the way to Milford Sound, with its irony-free description of a local ram's world-record semen production, and proceeds to illustrate the story with a few nearby corks.

St. Faith’s window

Well, she owns sheep. We'll take her word for it.

Daniel de Brun 1996 Blanc de Blancs (Marlborough) – Lemon and lees, with a bright yeastiness and a long, smooth finish. Just as good as the bottle tasted at the winery, and showing similar aging potential.

Fossil Ridge 2000 Riesling (Nelson) – Lemon-lime and lemongrass with light minerality and an odd note that wavers somewhere between potato and styrofoam. Something's wrong here, probably with the winemaking, but as this is a very new winery there would seem to be time to work things out.

Rimu Grove 2000 Chardonnay (Nelson) – Fat and rich though a touch dominated by sweet vanilla/clove wood at the moment. The wood treatment is light vs. the overall balance, however, and should fade and integrate nicely. A wine with potential, though I'd like a touch more acidity.

Esk Valley 1991 Merlot/Cabernet Franc/Malbec/Cabernet Sauvignon "The Terraces" (Hawke's Bay) – Apparently the first vintage of one of New Zealand's classic reds, and a good counterpoint to a differently-composed '92 "Reserve" tasted in Christchurch. Dense herbs well-laden with rich, black dirt, extremely dark fruit, and subtle cherry notes in a balanced, long-finishing wine with ripe tannin and intensity to spare. An absolute joy to taste, and a wine not yet done maturing.

Porters 2001 Pinot Noir (Martinborough) – Slightly candied, showing red cherry and strawberry with light, gritty tannin. Too artificial and not a complete wine, though it might age into something a little more pleasant, as it seems reasonably balanced.

Is the bath inside, or out?

Villa Maria 1994 "Noble" Riesling "Botrytis Selection Reserve" (Marlborough) – A library wine, in half-bottle, purchased at the Marlborough outpost of Villa Maria, and one that shows the quality of this remarkable dessert wine. Rich, sweet minerality is the foundation, upon which are layered strawberry, mixed nuts, spicy kiwifruit, peach, lemon truffle and pear, with a succulent, dusty texture. The only sign of its age is a slight flatness to the finish, which indicates this might be a year or so past its ideal drinking window. Still, quite a wine.

And quite a finish. We take our leave of Sue & Neil, thanking them once more for endless great advice (without which our trip would have been far, far less enjoyable), and trundle back to our hotel and our mostly-packed luggage. As we fit, shove, and stuff the last few items wherever they'll fit, the clock strikes midnight. It's the ninth of December, and it's the beginning of the longest day ever.

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