Fifteen

I slept in on Sunday morning for a bit, but only for a bit. It’s hard to sleep in when most people in your room are getting up at 7:30 to go partake in various costly activities. I had told myself I couldn’t spend any more money this weekend, except on food, if I wanted to have any money to spend for the rest of my stay in New Zealand. So while most of both Groups 1 and 2 dispersed to their various activities, I hung out at a café for the morning with two of my classmates. That was just as well; I got to know them both better, and it was a relaxing time that I didn’t have to spend wandering around town alone.

That afternoon Group 2 got on a bus to Taupo. Group 1 was staying until evening so that they could have the Maori experience. Once again I was spending my day with Group 2. We arrived in Taupo, checked into our hostel, and decided to go on a hike to some waterfalls. It was a bloody long hike. It started out at the lake, then followed a river for some distance. We finally arrived at our destination several hours later.

The lake:

The river along the way:

The falls:

Worth it, I think. But then we decided to walk even further, to a park called Craters of the Moon, which was home to more hot springs and mud pools. We turned around partway there when we realized that it would be closed by the time we arrived, and made the long hike back. Melodramatic though it may sound, I don’t think my feet have ever hurt so badly.

Much like last weekend, I tended to trail behind the group, sometimes by as much as several yards. I pushed myself hard to keep up with them, and I managed to do so for most of the day, but my endurance only went so far. Even so, they paid attention. The would wait for me at regular intervals. They would take turns dropping back to walk with me. It was nothing organized or vocalized, it was just people being aware. At one point, on the way back, one of them suggested I walk at the front, and they would all go at my pace. It did so much to make me feel like I was actually part of the group, not just a tagalong, and that was confirmation I needed. There is nothing as lonely as being alone in a crowd, and nothing as reassuring as that loneliness being cured.

I wasn’t the only one in pain at the end of the day. On the way back we stopped at a rope swing that swung out over the river. None of us had swimsuits, but we didn’t care; we were hot and sticky and sore, and a swim sounded perfect. The current was strong, dangerously so, and we were careful to stick to the edge, but we had a great time cooling off and relaxing.

We returned to the hostel to dry off, then went and found dinner at a place called Burger Fuel. It’s a New Zealand chain that has begun to spread to other areas, and I hope it comes to America, because their burgers are some of the best I’ve ever had. Then it was back to the hostel to play cards and take advantage of the hostel’s cheap bar. We played a drinking game. It was fun. I and one or two others played with water instead of alcohol. I can legally drink here, but I still don’t really want to get drunk. No one really did, though; we were exhausted enough that we all ended up going to bed early, relatively speaking. We still had a day to go, and the weekend was beginning to catch up with us.