Carolus Thermen Spa Experience

I didn’t have many spa experiences growing up. We weren’t exactly poor but we never really had enough money to do things like that. A “spa day” in my house was putting some scented oil in a hot bath and filling the bathroom with candles. A mud mask or cuticle soak purchased at the local corner store sometimes featured as well. I remember once we were able to take a trip to Hot Springs, Arkansas where we were treated to a soak in the “healing waters” but it wasn’t until I was living in Saudi Arabia that I discovered the magical heights that “spa day” can soar to. That experience will probably remain the most astonishing spa experience of my life, and I’m ok with that, but Carolus Thermen comes in at a very close second.


Bad Aachen

It’s not “bad”, that just means “bath” and according to the website “Aachen” is a linguistic evolution of the word “aaaahhh” that people exclaim when they enter the warm mineral spring water that flows naturally in this part of Germany. For 2000 years humans have been enjoying the thermal water there, from the Celts to the Romans, the Victorians, and now modern tourists from all over. Charlemagne actually declared Aachen his favorite place because he loved soaking so much! Royalty and celebrity have been visiting for centuries to “take the waters”, but when I went they were having a summer sale and I could enjoy all the tradition of pure spring water piped in from Aachen’s Rosenquelle spring along with all the modern amenities of pools, waterfalls, saunas and treatments for a mere 26€ for the whole day. I’m pretty sure that a home “spa day” with candles, bath bomb, face mask, and foot scrub would cost at least that much and not be anywhere near as glorious.

On July 18, I was staying in Lanaken, a small town in Belgium that is effectively a suburb of the larger (yet still small) city of Maastricht in the Netherlands. Yes, those are two different countries, but for the most part, inside the Schengen zone of the EU, travel between countries is no more a hassle than travel between two states or provinces in other places. The main complication was the sudden switch from French to Dutch at the border and the fact that the public transit was run by two different nations. More on that in a dedicated transit article, but for now just be in awe that I woke up in the morning in Belgium, rode a Belgian bus to the Netherlands, then rode a Dutch bus to Germany to spend the day at the spa.

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The final bus stop was about 1km from the spa and the walk was through a beautiful green park with lots of shade and fountains. The weather was still unseasonably hot for the area, but the large green space was cooler than the streets around it. I saw my first red squirrel there, too! He was too fast for me to snap any photos, but it was quite a pleasant shock as someone who has spent a lifetime surrounded by grey squirrels to see one of the fox colored ones in the fur, so to speak.

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Thermal Bathing

I ended up coming into the spa complex from the park, aka, the back entrance. I walked through part of the outdoor pool area where I captured my only photo of the day. Thankfully, the spa front desk had friendly, English speaking staff who explained the rules to me and issued my bracelet. No one carries keys or money or even phones around. The bracelet unlocks your assigned locker but also has a chip that you can use to buy any food or drinks, items from the shop, or extra spa services. Then when you leave, they add up your total and you pay all at once on the way out.

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I didn’t have much in the way of spa gear, but I had brought my swimsuit and a sarong I got in Malaysia that now functions as my multipurpose travel cloth: light blanket, towel, scarf, skirt, shawl, dress, swimsuit cover, etc. I was prepared to rent towels and a robe if the spa required such, but no one said anything to me, and I saw plenty of other people who had brought wraps from home as well. As with all shared water spaces, the changing room included showers in order to get everyone squeaky clean before entering the pools. Once I checked in, I couldn’t take photos, so from this point on, all the photos are from the spa’s website.

The swimming area is like a water park for grown ups. There are eight indoor and outdoor pools of various temperatures, the unique brine steam bath “Strokkur”, a beautiful sun terrace and even a beach. The main pool connects with several others and includes amenities like bubbles, waterfalls, and gentle currents. I also noticed a lift for disabled visitors which I thought was great since the warm water therapy would be wonderful for people in PT or with long term physical limitations.

Most of the pools are in the “warm” range (35°C), with a few dedicated to more extreme temperatures. Two pools on either end lead outside to cooler (33°C) water. A small set of pools next to each other were set up hot (38°C) and cold (18°C) to go back and forth between. I perched under a massage waterfall in the hot pool for a nice chance to work out the tension, and I did the ice plunge to get my circulation going and because it feels bonkers when you go from hot to ice to hot. In addition to being a treat for the body, it is stunning to look at.

After exploring every pool on the first floor, I ducked back to my locker to grab my phone (functioning as e-reader) and a sandwich from my bag before heading to the sun terrace for a rest. The sun terrace is a lovely outdoor area surrounding one of the two outdoor pools on this level. There’s a little faux beach with sand and beach chairs, as well as a small bar/cafe where you can get refreshments. I noticed that many of the people who had reserved the larger beach chairs also brought picnic baskets filled with tupperware containers of snacks, some books, extra tanning lotion and other “beach day” necessities. I was a little worried the spa might not allow outside food and drink since they sell it there, but it seemed to be quite common after all.

The Saunas

After lunch, I headed upstairs to check out the sauna. I didn’t think I was into saunas because, except for the one in KSA, I haven’t really enjoyed them. I find them to be too hot and hard to breathe in. Because I read the website ahead of time, I realized that the variety of saunas offered at Carolus was so extensive it would be almost impossible for me not to find at least one I liked. Aside from the sheer volume and variety on offer, they also have scheduled special events inside the saunas that are free, and I was intensely curious about these.

It was amazing. However marvelous the first floor with all it’s pools and waterfalls, it is as nothing compared to the pleasures and sensory delights that awaited me on the sauna side. There are 15 different saunas and steam baths of different humidity and temperatures, a sauna lake, and the sauna garden. 

While the thermal bath area requires swimwear, the saunas are bare skin. People don’t just walk around naked the whole time (although they could), but wraps or robes are hung on hooks outside each room, and you just use a towel between you and the seat as a cushion and heat barrier, and to keep your sweat off the wood, because you WILL sweat. 

Right out of the showers, I first encountered the Feminarium (below), for women who want to sauna nude without any male observers. It’s much smaller but still had a dry and wet sauna option as well as cool showers, foot baths, and reclining chairs so that ladies could enjoy a full sauna experience in gender seclusion. I was the only person in it, and I just stayed long enough to test everything out before moving on.

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The main floor has the dry saunas which are low humidity and often extremely hot. To do sauna right, nearby is a cold pool, a foot bath, and resting area. Outdoors there are even more pools, dry saunas, and quiet places to rest or nap. It also has the no-clothes terrace for those who don’t want any tan lines.

There is a large board displaying the day’s event schedule, showing what is happening in what room when. I was too excited by the variety to sit still and relax yet. Instead, I wandered around testing things out while I waited for the next scheduled event.

Oriental Bathing World

Downstairs from the dry saunas is a pool surrounded by steam rooms. These are higher humidity and had a wide range of temperatures. I enjoyed the Tepidarium (below), which, at 27°C, was just warm enough to feel it without trying to kill me, but my favorite was the Odorium. This room has my “Goldilocks” temperature with just little hints of air current to keep it from stifling. The Odorium is named for its aromas which were truly heavenly.

While the Odorium had my favorite smell, nothing in this place was odorless. I tested every room and only one had a smell I didn’t like. Many of the rooms were too hot for me to spend much time in. The warmest steam rooms were 45°C and 100% humidity! I read the proper way to sauna, but that involved spending 10-15 minutes even in the hottest of rooms and I just couldn’t last that long.

The whole decor of the sauna is dark, but in a refined classy way. It’s gentle for the eyes, with lots of soft lighting, color shifting LEDs and star lights in the ceiling. The dry rooms are mainly cedar benches, but the steam rooms are decorated with stunning tiles and patterns, intentionally reminiscent of a Turkish bath.  Beautiful ornaments, and water fixtures were everywhere. Lamps made to look like cut lace and even globes with holes to let shafts of light out to dance in the steam. Each room was intricately beautiful and completely unique. It’s no surprise that area is called “The Oriental Bathing World”.

Under a high arching dome, in the middle of all the steam rooms, there was another pool with pleasantly warm water (34°C) and LED lights shining upward casting rippling light and shadow in the ceiling, as well as softly changing colors. Just as I was drifting there thinking oh yeah this is that “wow-is-this-real” feeling I love so much, and imagining all my friends reactions to visiting such a space and how happy it would make them to experience this magical crossover of visual beauty, amazing smells and skinny-dipping, I decided to float on my back and watch the ceiling lights. Suddenly there was music!

Startled, I sat up and it was gone. The music was only underwater. As soon as I submerged my ears the sounds of the people vanished and I could hear lovely soothing “meditation” music!!! Floating naked in a near body temperature pool with underwater music in my ears and the mingled fragrances of saunas in my nose (no bathroom or pool smell here) and my eyes feasting on the shifting lights and colors above… It was pure magic.

Steam Sauna Treatment

When it was finally time for the treatment, left the pool with no small reluctance. I needn’t have worried. Nothing in this place could possibly be a let down. The first activity I was able to join was a mystery to me. The name on the schedule was an all caps word I did not recognize and had forgotten by the time I got back to anything I could take notes with. Even though I had no idea what it was, I was ready to explore.  I headed into Halvet (below), a very hot and steamy room, to see what would happen. This picture is nice and clear, but when I went in the room was filled with thick steam and the latticed orbs and windows shone soft beams of warm light.

Plenty of other people had the same idea and soon the benches were full. About a minute later, a young man in a towel came in with a tray of little plastic shot glass looking things that had a lightly golden liquid inside. Having no clue what I was supposed to do, I tried to surreptitiously watch the people around me and discovered it was meant to be applied to the skin. It was a delightfully scented oil! No one seemed hesitant or shy about rubbing themselves with oil in front of each other, and I decided I wouldn’t be either. Friends even helped each other, rubbing oil into hard to reach spots. I was sweating so much I wasn’t sure the oil was going on, but I kept at it until I had used the whole thing. I noticed the others who finished were heading straight to the showers and followed suit.

With only 15 minutes until the next event, I went to lay down in my favorite room, the Odorium (below). I felt like heaven. My skin was singing and so so so soft. The room was cool enough to help me relax from the hot steam treatment while still being warm enough to be comfortable naked. Not to mention my favorite smell of the day. I thought I was going to melt into the lounge chair with sheer pleasure.

Dry Sauna Infusion

The next event was a “popsicle infusion” back upstairs in one of the dry saunas. The dry saunas range from 60°C to 100°C (I didn’t set foot in that one). The infusion room is listed as 90°C (194°F) with a mere 5% humidity. The walls are lined with cedar benches, and a tall cylinder of hot rocks was in the center.

Popsicle infusion was remarkably popular. I have been to naked parties, and gone skinny dipping, but I do not think I have ever been in such a small space with so many other naked adults where no one gave a crap. It’s mixed gender. Men and women together, lining every available seat on the three tiers of cedar benches. Dudes were casually adjusting balls to rest comfortably on the seat, and chicks were wiping boob sweat. There was not one trace of awkward or creepy. The attitude was “sauna” not “sexy”. I felt completely safe and comfortable in a way I can’t even imagine experiencing in the US.

When all the seats were filled, another betoweled employee came in carrying a saucepan and a bucket of ice. He talked a lot and people laughed at certain points. I’m sure the story in German was good, but all I managed to decipher was something about the ice and that the infusion was orange.

When the speech was finished, rock music eased out of the speakers. With some disappointment, he called out to his assistant to crank it up and soon we were well and truly rocking out in these Death Valley conditions. He liberally sprinkled ice on the rocks and I swear it sublimed, going from solid to vapor without even passing through liquid on the way. He then took another towel and used it to fan the steam at us. Not in cute dainty wafting way, no. This was aggressive German air shoving.

Aufguss-jpeg-bd20441e6780d0aba624404db27c711dYou know that blast of heat you get when you open the oven to check on something? It was like that. The force of the hot air hitting us dead on as he went around the room. People put their arms up like in a roller coaster.

Next he added the orange infused liquid. The smell was intense but pleasant, and the moisture in the air was much more noticeable. Once more, he repeated the towel blasting. I was getting into it, but also feeling really hot by this stage and just starting to wonder if I’d have to leave when he picked up the bucket of ice and flung handfuls at the ceiling. It was coarse shaved ice and broke apart on the wooden beams, raining down on us as a cool shower.

As he started on a second round of infused liquid, a girl sitting in front of me headed for the exit. I decided if she could be a wimp, I could too. Honestly it was just as well. I was becoming dizzy and realized I could be flirting with dangerously overheating. I got to some cool water and started to feel better just in time for the popsicles! The staff passed out little orange creamscicles to everyone who had participated. I’d already been thinking that they must have named it the “popsicle infusion” because it smelled like that childhood treat, so the cold fruity reward was the perfect finish.

Break Time

After the intense heat of the popsicle sauna, I took my time to cool off all the way. I had a cold shower, took a walk outside, lay for another rest in my favorite room, and one more dip in the cold pool (18°C) of the Balneum (below).

With plenty of time before the next event, I decided to head over to the sauna’s connected restaurant. You don’t get dressed to eat there, just throw on a robe or towel. It’s separated from the clothed area, and the terraces are protected with shrubbery to keep anyone outside from seeing in. The view was lovely, but the food was disappointing. I ordered the Thai crab soup, which tasted like someone went “soy sauce and ramen that’s Asian right?” It also had no crab or even fake crab, just teeny tiny shrimp. The cheap sandwich I brought in from the grocery store was better. Before you ask why I ordered Thai food in Germany, the restaurant is called “Lemongrass” and claims to specialize in Asian food. However, the staff was kind, and my mood was just to good to want to think about bad food so I just wrote it off, I was planning to pay 36€ that day before I learned about the summer sale. Thinking of it as bad free food it’s much less painful than thinking of bad food I paid for.

Feeling Like Fresh Bread

It would have taken an act of gods to ruin my glow that day, and while the restaurant may have been a let down, good food was the topic of my final experience: the bakery.

It’s a dry sauna meant to be like a red brick oven which is not uncommon in saunas. I’ve seen several in the Jimjilbang in Korea. However at Carolus, there’s actually an oven inside. Although the room is open for use all the time, every couple hours they bake something in the oven while people are there. I read about it before going and it was one of the things I was most looking forward to. I went into the room the same time the dough did and I lay in the semi-dry heat (60°C 40% humidity) dripping sweat and surrounded by the wonderful smell of fresh baking bread. I can’t even properly describe this room other than to say I felt like I was in the oven with the bread…in a really yummy way, not in a gingerbread cottage witch way.

When they were done baking, it turned out to be pretzel rolls. Once she added some coarse salt, the attendant staffer passed around the piping hot treats. They were light and fluffy inside and crispy outside and almost too hot to bite into. It was so amazing to be with the bread and have the aroma as part of the sauna and then get eat it after as I walked around in the fresh outdoor air.

Spa Spell

I never wanted to leave that place. After my baking treatment, I had only about 30 minutes left to visit my favorite highlights one last time before it was time to return to the non-magical world outside. Of course for me, that meant one more float in the musical pool, and a rest in the Odorium to air dry a bit. 

My ersatz towel was completely drenched by this time and would do me no good as a drying method. I was a little worried about carrying my wet bathing suit and sarong home, so I didn’t get back into any of the swimming baths at the end of my day. I underestimated the facilities once again, since the locker rooms had quick spin cycle machines to whip the extra water out of any towels or suits. There were hair dryers, too. I didn’t need one in the summer, but I would have been grateful to see them if I were leaving on a cold winter’s evening.

When I put this spot on my travel calendar, I did not think I could spend 7 hours in a spa with no distractions, but I only read my book for about an hour at lunch. Other than that my phone was locked up the whole time. I didn’t even miss it.  There were many more experiences, treatments, and classes I never had a chance to attend. I thought about trying to find a room in Aachen so I could stay until they closed at 10pm and come back again the next day, but the cost was even more than the bus rides. I thought also about returning another day that week, before I left Lanaken. I could go back every day for a week before I could see it all.

In the end I decided that the euphoria I experienced that day came from the wonderful surprises and the way nearly every part of the day exceeded any possible expectation I had. If I returned and it was anything less than pure magic, I risked disappointment. Lanaken and Maastricht were providing a nearly unbearable number of disappointments already, and I didn’t think I could take another. Better to keep this shining jewel of memory just the way it is. Visiting Carolus Thermen in the middle of some intense emotional turmoil (which I intend to share elsewhere for those interested in my turmoil and growth) was an incredible escape. It elevated me into a realm of calm delight that was not only a pure joy, but gave me the mental clarity to process a lot of heavy stuff. It is and will remain one of the highlights of all my adventures. 


Writing away as fast as I can, I still can’t seem to get all the way to my goal of 2 stories a week. The new semester of classes has brought it’s share of challenges as I try to understand a whole set of course materials and students. It’s also bringing some new joys which may be taking away from writing time. I adjusted my schedule so that I could attend more weekend events out of town. Last weekend, I got to attend my first watercolor class which was a lovely social event and a chance to learn new art skills. I plan on going to book clubs, craft fairs, and of course to some Korean festivals as well. I’m incredibly grateful that I’ve arrived at a place in my life where I get to have so many adventures of all sizes. I’ll do my best to keep sharing them with you, even if it’s not as quickly as before. Thanks for reading! See you next week 🙂

Ten Days in NZ: 3 Hot Springs at Rotorua

Here in Korea, the cold weather is starting to seep into my bones as the days grow shorter and the need to apply extra layers of clothing grows more intense. Looking back on my summer (or first winter) in Aotearoa, I yearn for the beautiful and soothing natural hot springs I found in Rotorua. 


I have a deep abiding love of hot springs. Not just spas and indoor hot baths, but the wild and natural heated water that springs from the geothermal centers of the earth to bathe us in the mineral rich (slightly sulfur smelling) warmth. I love spas too, goodness knows that I will treasure my Riyadh spa treatment for many cold winter nights to come, but this holiday wasn’t about pampering, it was about wilderness. Whether you believe in the healing properties of these waters or not, it’s still fantastic to spend a day soaking in hot water surrounded by natural beauty instead of tile and grout.

Finding a good natural spot, however, can be a real challenge. When I started looking around my US home of Seattle (also rich in hot spring activity) what I found was that nearly everything was either on private land, had been developed into a spa, or required a massive hike to get to. The shortest hike we found was still 11km from the car park and the campsite nearby had no drinking water and did not allow any fires. If we wanted to stay the night, we would have to haul in all our gear, our water, and our cold food. The most “natural” resort I found was a 5 hour drive away in the next state, required a 2 night minimum booking and cost hundreds of dollars.

However, due to NZ’s water laws, it’s much harder for private owners and companies to monopolize all the accessible springs and rivers. Rotorua is one of NZ’s main geothermally active locations and has bountiful natural hot springs. Some of these have been diverted/converted into lux spas where the water is filtered and even chlorinated and the environment is suitably sterile. I hear they’re nice. I didn’t go. Instead, I sought out three natural and free locations that I’d learned about online during my pre-trip research: Kerosene Creek, Hot and Cold, and Waterfall Spout Bath.

A note on wild hot spring safety:

 20160819_144111There are signs at every natural hot spring that basically warn you of 2 things:getting burned and getting sick. Because these are natural springs, the temperatures are not regulated, and water that is hot enough to burn you sometimes rises up from the ground in the river and pool beds. You can be sitting in lovely water and suddenly a hotter current will come by. You can take a step to the left and land on a patch of mud that is scalding hot. However, these are not insurmountable problems if you exercise a little caution and common sense. Don’t dig down into the mud/sand at the bottom. It’s hotter below the surface. Feel before you put your weight down, test the bottom gently with a hand or toe before you put your weight down so you can move away quickly if it’s too hot. If you’re really worried about it, you can always wear water shoes. The other thing to bear in mind is that hot water breeds microbes. In the case of the Rotorua springs, there is a small concern of amoebic meningitis. That sounds scary, but it can’t infect you through your skin, only if it gets up your nose, so just keep your head out of the water and you’re in the clear. If all this sounds like too much work, that’s why the spas exist.

Finally, it’s worth noting that NZ is having some issues with campers and tourists visiting these places being targeted for car theft. I received many differing accounts of the severity, but everyone agrees it is something to consider. Campers are known to be carrying all their belongings in the vehicle so they make great targets for theft. If you can leave your stuff in a hotel, hostel, bus station locker, etc. that’s probably the best solution. Otherwise do your best to make it look like the vehicle is empty and carry your most valuables (passports, money, jewelry, etc) down to the creek with you and lock them to a tree (preferably one you can see from the water). Honestly, if you’re roughing it and don’t have a hotel/hostel to leave valuables in, you should own one of those lockable, cut resistant backpacks for your valuables anyway. It’s sad that these places are becoming targets for theft, but it’s an easily avoidable problem and there are no reports of personal injury or violence whatsoever, so please don’t let it deter you from the experience.

Kerosene Creek

Kerosene Creek is easily the most famous of these three sites. I understand that during tourist season it can get somewhat crowded, and even in August when I was there, I saw about a dozen other people. It’s far from what I would call “comercialized”, but be prepared to share.

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Kerosene Creek is also searchable on Google Maps, so if you have GPS this is the easiest one to find. As you drive south of Rotorua toward Wai-O-Tapu there is a little road called Old Waiotapu Road. It is gravel and filled with potholes. I drove very slowly down the 2 km it takes to get there. I also passed Lake Rotowhero (pictured here) which is another hot swimming spot that I didn’t know at the time if it was safe to go into due to the complete lack of signs or other indications of occupation. I have since learned the lake is debatably swimmable due to a potentially skin damaging pH balance and a tendency for the temperature to get to burning hot levels quite quickly once away from the shoreline. But it’s a beautiful lake with the plumes of steam rising up into the air, so it’s worth pulling over for a looksee on your way to Kerosene Creek.

The carpark is clearly marked with signage, and there’s even a toilet facility (hole in the ground style, not flushing) that doubles as a changing room if you arrive here without your swim gear on. The path down to the swimming hole is not long. It took me about 5 minutes of walking along the creek (which is also warm) to find the main area. 20160819_122343.jpgThere’s a beautiful and fairly large waterfall there and a pool that’s deep enough to sit in and have the water come up to a comfortable chest level. This spot is the spot, but if it’s too crowded, bear in mind that the whole river is warm and the path does keep going, so you could keep wandering to find a smaller more private area. There were some people leaving as I arrived, and two other campers came at the same time I did. At one point I think there were maybe 6 people in the pool, and another half dozen or so came by to look at the waterfall but did not want to get in. I also went on a Friday, a weekday, so it is almost assuredly more crowded on a weekend when families can come down from Rotorua for the day.

The entrance to the pool is a steep set of rocks that I actually had to sit down on to reach the one below. There is no stairwell or gentle descent into this particular pool, although there are many shallower areas along the creek. The water was actually not as hot as I had expected based on my experience at Hot Water Beach and all the warning signs. I didn’t have a thermometer but I’d say it was close to body temperature, maybe even a little below. Of course it felt wonderful in contrast to the crisp 16C air. The bottom of the pool was mostly small rocks and was safe to walk on barefoot, but not soft. I quickly discovered that getting closer to the base of the falls made me feel like I was getting a gentle massage just like a jacuzzi jet. There’s not much to tell about soaking in a hot pool for a couple of hours. I chatted with the other bathers and just relaxed, taking in the feelings, the waterfall air and sounds, and the beauty of the sunlight through the trees around us.

Eventually, the water stopped feeling as warm. I’m sure I just became accustomed to it, but it was time to move on. Getting out of the pool is a little tricky because of the steep entryway and I basically went backwards, pushing up from the bottom rocks until I could sit on the upper rocks and scoot back up. Because it took a little while to get out and back to my towel, I got quite chilly on the way, but once dry and rejacketed, the walk back to the car wasn’t too bad.

Hot & Cold

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I was going to try to find the Waterfall Spout Bath next because I’d gotten some GPS coordinates from another backpacker online. Basically, you keep going to Wai-O-Tapu and take the Waiotapu Loop Road (paved, yay!) to a road called “The Avenue” which leads to Lady Knox Gyser (on Google Maps, easy to search). The path is just off the Avenue. Sounds easy enough, but when I got there, I discovered that there was a locked bar across the entry to the Avenue. The sign next to it indicated that the road was closed from 5pm to 9am, but it was only 2 in the afternoon, so I was a bit flummoxed. I headed up the road a bit to the visitors center and went inside to find out what was going on.

When I asked, it took a while to get through to the girl at the counter that I wanted to go up the road toward the Gyser. I had to repeat myself a few times that the road was blocked despite the posted signs indicating it should be open. She eventually led me over to an older lady who told me they close the road at 11am after the gyser is done doing it’s thing because there’s just no other reason to go down that way. Taking in my swimsuit under my jacket asked me rather tartly if I meant to go swimming and then told me there was absolutley no place to go swimming down that road… at all. I gently argued that I had seen it on the internet, which earned me a beleaguered sigh and an “of course you did”. She then went on at great length how dangerous it was because my car would be broken into, and I’d burn my feet and I’d get meningitis and and and. She told me that she’d lived there for 15 years and never even wanted to go look at it because it was sooooo dangerous. If I absolutely HAD to go swimming, I could go to Hot and Cold by the bridge, but she was sure I’d have my car broken into if I did.

When I asked her how this waterfall compared to Kerosene Creek, she told me how awful that place was too, covered with used condoms and needles (no it isn’t). I realized I was dealing with a genuine Paranoid Old Person™ and decided to humor her and back away slowly. “Can I just go look at the waterfall if I promise not to swim?”, (fingers crossed) I asked. “Well, I can’t stop you.”, she grumped back at me. I thanked her for her advice and indicated I’d head to Hot and Cold as she recommended, and leave my car in the visitor’s lot for safety if that was ok. She warned me they would lock it up before 5pm so I should hurry (it was still only 2pm).

Based on her directions, Hot & Cold was right around the corner from the visitor’s center, and since the Avenue wasn’t going to magically open for me, I figured I’d check that one out before assessing my plan of attack for the Waterfall. I did leave my car in the visitor’s car park, and if you’re worried about break-ins you can do the same while they’re open, but there is also plenty of roadside parking by the bridge. It was a short walk from there to the bridge that goes over the Hot of Hot and Cold. I saw several other cars parked around and sure enough there was a small handful (4-5) of bathers already enjoying the water.
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Hot and Cold is an interesting geothermal phenomenon where a cold water stream and a hot water stream converge. The hot water stream runs under the bridge and the cold water stream runs along one side of the road. A nice shallow pool rests at the mixing point before they continue on as one merged stream. The Department of Conservation actually built wooden steps that lead down into the pool on one side of the bridge and into the hot stream on the other. The hot side is quite hot, so be careful if you decend into that side. I spent the majority of my time in the mixing pool, not for fear of heat, but because the sensation of being swirled around in hot and cold water is a uniquely pleasant one.

The pool is not merely warm water but active currents of HOT and COLD. Of course, it is generally hotter or colder as you near the appropriate stream, but the currents in the pool get everywhere. You can be soaking up a nice hot spot and suddenly a cold tendril wraps around your legs. One of the interesting activites the old foks in Washington taught me was that it was fun to go dip in the freezing cold river then dash back into the hot spring. I tried this exactly once, not because it wasn’t neat, but because the river was REALLY cold there. The hot and cold pool in NZ isn’t anywhere near so extreme, but it is a fun experience. It’s impossible to overheat in this pool since all you have to do is drift over to the cooler side, and because of the regular changes in temperature, the cool currents are refreshing and invigorating but don’t last long enough to make you cold, while at the same time your body doesn’t adjust to the hotter temperature meaning you get that ‘ahhhh’ sensation of new hot water on your skin over and over.

The water is a bit cloudy, no crystal clear mountain stream water here. You have to be careful walking around when you can’t see the bottom so you don’t stub your toe on a rock (most dangerous thing here). The bottom on the warmer side is sandy and rocky, while on the cooler side there is more algae growing so it gets a little softer (squishier) and muddier. That texture is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s pretty harmless. One of the locals I talked to here said in the 10 years he’d been coming up, he’d only had his car broken into once, and that was at night. I personlly did not go to these pools after dark partially for concern of my car, but also because I was travelling alone and still suffer some lingering paranoia about my single woman status and my saftey. If I’d had a travel buddy, I would have happily dumped all my stuff at the hostel (empty car is less tempting) and gone back for a candlelit soak.

Waterfall Spout Bath

20160819_174226Not wanting to find my car locked up in the visitor’s spot, I only spent a couple hours at hot and cold before venturing out to see what I could do about this waterfall situation. I was very determined not to miss out. Even if the water or mud turned out to be too hot, I just had to go and take a look since it was so nearby. I parked my car on the side of the road just in front of the barrier and off the main road. I’m not sure how advisable this really is, but in general it’s safe to park in NZ if you can get your whole vehicle off the road so that it isn’t blocking traffic and it was almost closing time for the visitors center anyway, coming around to the posted closing time for the road itself. The GPS coordinates I had said the falls were just 500m up the road which isn’t a far walk. As I was locking up the car, two more travelers walked out of the bush. They had parked a bit further away and were using the same set of coordinates to track the elusive bathing spot.

Sure enough, 500m down the road we began to hear the water and there was a small track off to the right. Just at the opening of the bush, the path is fairly wide and clear, but it quickly narrows and becomes overgrown. I’m glad I was wearing my jeans over my suit because I got snagged by a low growing thorn bush that bit right into the fabric. It’s not a long path and you can hear the waterfall sounds to know you’re heading in the right direction. 20160819_163144_1The first thing you see is the top of the falls. These are quite lovely and worth a gander, but the water up here is too shallow to enjoy a soak, so head on down the trail a little further and you’ll find the pool. Despite it’s lack of popularity, it was indeed marked with another Dept of Conservation sign warning us about mud burns and amoebic meningitis, so the government was clearly aware of the fact that people were coming here and was just as clearly not prohibiting it. Ostensibly, this is a result of the Queen’s Chain policy of reserving 20m of land around bodies of water (and prohibiting the private ownership of said water).

We made it down to the pool and quickly skinned down to our bathing suits and waded in. Of the three places I visited, this was easily the most rustic and the most amazing. The bottom of the pool is especially temperature variable. The other lady there singed her bum because she moved onto a hot patch without realizing it. No lasting damage fortunately, but it made us all aware that the hot patches on the bottom were not to be ignored. The pool was less than knee deep, but the bottom is not visible, so it’s necessary to carefully navigate. The water isn’t “dirty”, but the waterfall stirs up mud and leaf debris from the bottom. You can easily see in the stream above and below the falls that the water itself is quite clear. It’s still got microbes tho, so don’t get it up your nose.

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Aside from it’s remoteness, and the fact that we slightly felt like we were doing something forbidden the most appealing aspect of this location is the waterfall itself. It is not a tall fall, perhaps 2 meters maybe a little more. It is very powerful, but still narrow enough to be approachable. Some people straight up “shower” in these falls, and given that water falling down on your head is unlikely to get up your nose, it’s not as risky as putting your head under in the pools themselves, but it was still more of a risk than any of us were willing to take. But, and a very important but, the falls are moving quite fast and the water comes at an angle so the bottom is further out into the pool than the top. It is, therefore, possible to get your back and shoulders under the falls while keeping the front and top of your head completely out. It’s a slow process to get there because of the hot mud pockets and the need to move slowly across the ground of the pool to avoid being toasted (considering some waterproof shoes next time) and then backing into the falls to find the sweet spot that hits high on your shoulders without dunking your head, but ah when you get there… the deep tissue hot water massage that mother nature gives you as a reward is oh so sweet.

Blessed by the Gods

After lingering around for another hour or more, I got a feeling it was time to move on. I wasn’t sure of the time, but could tell from the light it was getting dark and I had not left all my stuff in my hostel. My car looked totally lived in and I didn’t want to become an after dark target for thieves ruining what was otherwise an amazingly perfect day full of soaking and nice company. I said my farewells and struggled damply back into my jeans to guard my shins on the way out. Remember how I said I felt like my trip was being divinely influenced for maximum awe? Somehow 3 gorgeous natural hot springs and two waterfall massages was just not enough of a message, because when I emerged from the narrow path in the woods onto the main road I was greeted with the most beautifully gaudy display of sunset color I have seen in a long time. I stood in total shock before remembering to snap a picture and within about two minutes the whole thing was gone, returning the sky to a darkening gray. If I hadn’t listened to the little ‘time to go’ voice in my head, I would have missed it completely. I went from feeling like the gods of the land were putting on a show to wondering if I was instead being wooed by a heavenly being.

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Some things are just too wonderful to attribute to mere coincidence and I’m a lousy monotheist. I tend to ascribe to a more fantastical yet practical version of divinity outlined by authors like Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I tend to think that gods are “real” in precisely the same way that “truth” or “honor” or “love” are real.

THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY” – Terry Pratchett

You can’t, of course, but we accept these as real. That’s basically what I mean when I talk about the gods of some place or another (up until the Diaspora, all gods were linked to the land and the local people). It’s not about religion or worship for me, but I do believe it’s important to express gratitude for the good things in life and it can help if that gratitude has a focus. Plus, it’s fun to imagine being courted by a god like a beautiful mortal maid from the old legends.

Once More With Feeling

I ended up spending 3 nights in Rotorua. On the first day I went to the springs, then on the second I did some more touristy things including a visit to a Maori village (post forthcoming). That second part was rough and emotional, so on my final morning, I decided I needed one more cleansing bath in the hot pools before I bid farewell to Rotorua and Waiotapu. First and last activities in a place go a long way to defining our memories of an experience, and as much as I valued my Maori visit, I didn’t want those feelings of sadness and conflict to be my last ones for Rotorua. Matamata was only an hour away by car, and the Hobbiton facility runs tours every 30 minutes until about 4pm, so I wasn’t worried about getting an early start for that part of the day. Instead, I woke up early to return to the Waterfall Spout Bath, easily the most remote and most beautiful of the three pools I had visited 2 days previously.  Now that I knew where I was going, it was much easier, and since the gate was open, I was even able to park at the trailhead.

This may have been the best decision I made in all of my time in Rotorua. The pool was completely empty, I had it all to myself. I like company often, but I relished the opportunity to quietly absorb the beauty of the surrounding bush as a means of replenishing my spirit, my joy and my gratitude from the night before. Once more, I could not help but feel that the land or the gods heard my requests, because the waterfall was, if you can believe it, even more beautiful on this morning than it had been the first time I found it. It was as though, having shown me the loss and sorrow that incautious tourism and exploitation brought, they now would show me the best and most beautiful that the untarnished land could offer.

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The pool is set down below the level of the main road and most of the surrounding bush. When the morning sun came through the trees that surrounded and enclosed the pool, it was like beams of liquid gold pouring through fine black lace. Spiderwebs still dripping with condensed steam, gleaming like strings of diamonds between the branches drew my eye again and again as the patterns of sunlight changed. The steam itself rose up from the waterfall and the pool in great plumes, turning opaque in stripes and beams where the sunlight penetrated the canopy only to remain invisible in the shadows. If I had seen it in a movie, I would swear it was a computer generated effect, that no real thing could be so amazing all at once. As I lay in the pool, my body relaxing and revitalizing in the mineral water, the shining ribbons of light moving with the steam but also with time’s passage of the rising sun, there came a moment when I was directly in line with the sun itself, my vision becoming the center of a radiating circle of glowing sunbeams, dancing steam, and dark winding branches as though I were looking down a tunnel into another world, or even the afterlife. It was one of the most profound moments of natural beauty I have ever experienced.20160821_101856

I made another stop off at Hot & Cold that morning as well, and the sunlight was no less stunning. Once again, when I arrived I had the place to myself and the sun reached down into the riverbed through the trees not in rays and beams this time, but a spotlight to light up the steam from the hot river as it rose up the steep walls and curled back on itself in an endless spiralling dance of thermodynamics. Feeling wholly restored and incredibly grateful, I didn’t mind at all when other visitors showed up to the creek and promptly encouraged them to come on in. It was the best farewell to Rotorua I could have wished for.

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I’m trying my best to get all the stories from my visit to the Land of the Long White Cloud up for viewing before the end of 2016. The good news is, since these stories are not linked to world events, they make sense whenever you read them. And, if you happen to be a northern hemisphere dweller, the weather from my trip is finally starting to line up with what you’re experiencing outside. As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Please check out the Facebook page for all the photos, and my Instagram for updates on day to day life in Korea. 🙂

 

Ten Days in NZ: Coromandel Peninsula

NZ drive map (1)Back to New Zealand. It’s like time travel, or at very least like one of those novels that writes chapters from all different perspectives or storylines. You can see my trail through the north island here, starting in Auckland and then looping around Northland before swinging wide to the East and Coromandel Peninsula. Also, I’m afraid that the night-time stories don’t have accompanying pictures as I have not yet acquired a camera that actually shoots well in the dark. Think of it as imagination exercise.


Hot Water Beach by Night

I got to my campsite on Hot Water Beach about 10:30 at night. Low tide was set for 12:01 and the ideal bathing time for the hot pools is 2 hours either side of low tide. I was a little late, but it’s a 4 hour window and I felt fairly sanguine about my outlook. As checked into my cabin, I saw a group of tourists marching out of the campsite toward the beach with shovels in hand.

I didn’t want to waste any time, so I dropped my stuff off in the room and changed into my suit to zip down to the beach. I didn’t have a shovel, but I figured I could improvise, and I stuffed a recently acquired bottle of Riesling into my bag along with my towel. The trail from the campsite to the beach is a bit long, but very nice. The moon was nearly full and almost straight overhead. There were no clouds in the sky; everything was bright and slightly blue. I walked down a forest path where the campsite security had said I might find glow worms, but I didn’t see anything aside from the glimmer of moonlight on the leaves. Finally, I reached the beach and saw that several people had already dug holes filled with hot water steaming into the cold night air.

In case I didn’t say before, Hot Water Beach is this rather amazing geothermal wonder wherein hot springs lie under the sand of the beach and are accessible at low tide. This means you can just scoop away some sand and have your own private hot tub right on the beach. How cool is nature?

I was watching the tourists who went before me froliking around in their pool which is quite large. I think the guys who dug it intened the girls to join them, but the girls were simply unwilling to be cold for the few moments between warm clothes and warm water and wouldn’t go in. Sometimes tourists weird me out, I mean, why come all the way out here, there’s nothing much else around, and you’re awake at 11pm to what… walk to the beach and refuse to participate in the majesty of nature because it’s a little cold? sigh

I took a picture for them anyway. I do that a lot, take pictures for other travellers when the selfie stick just won’t cut it. It was a decent way of breaking the ice so I could see if they’d share their pool, since they’d dug out space for more people than were going in. They were more than happy to let me, but it turned out that after the photo op, most of the group was ready to leave the beach. One guy from Swizerland complained bitterly that his companions were leaving him, that he wanted to stay and enjoy the water, so we chatted for a bit in the pool they left behind.

If you’ve ever built a sandcastle or a moat on the beach, you know the dangers of uneven waves and how it can ruin a whole edifice. The pool was no different. The guys who had dug it had shoved most of the sand in the direction of the treeline, not the ocean, so the barrier protecting the pool from incoming waves was weak. Initially, they had done it on purpose, so as to attract some cooler sea water because the hot water under that beach is HOT, but it became evident soon that it was a hindrance. My short-term Swiss companion was already having trouble balancing his temperature due to the sudden bursts of hot and cold water from beneath, but when the retaining wall broke and half the pool drained into the sea, he gave up and left as well. 

I was able to rebuild, and once the wall was restored the pool refilled from the springs below. With all the tourists gone, the beach was nearly bare. There was a quiet couple in their own pool next to the one I’d taken over, and one man wandering up and down farther along looking for his ideal spot. With the full moon overhead, the beach was a mixture of blue shadows and white highlights and the sea was black glass and silver foam. I lay back in my newly personal pool and discovered that the beach contained both hot and cold springs just below the surface and that they would emerge at random so it was somewhat necessary to keep the water moving so as to not become too hot or too cold. While this did mean I couldn’t simply lay back and stop moving, it didn’t mean I couldn’t relax and enjoy myself.

So there I was, midnight on the beach, with no human sounds for we were all being quiet and enjoying the sea once the tour group had gone. I soon fell into a rhythm of gentle movement of arms and legs to keep my pool pleasantly warm and I watched with all my memory to capture the silver night and the sound of the waves crashing on the rock that marked the center of the hot spring area. The hot water soothing my skin, the steam rising off the beach where the heat bubbled up, the glint of moonlight on ocean, the silvery whiteness of seafoam and the sound of waves, the moon overhead so bright it hurt to look directly at it after watching the earth below, and another clue that my travels in NZ were preternaturally blessed that I should wind up just here and just now to experience these things as they came together, full moon, clear sky and midnight low tide.

As the tide began to turn, I had to rebuild my walls more frequently, but I was unwilling to abandon the pool. The couple had decided to pack it in for the night, so now it was just me and the older gentlman down the beach. He wandered over with his shovel looking for another likely spot and seemed kind so I invited him to join me in my overlarge pool. He was a local man who lived just about 45 minutes up the road and often came down to the beach to enjoy the springs. We chatted a little about where I’d been and where I was going and he reassured me that the hot springs I was planning to seek in Rotorua did indeed exist and gave me some extra pointers on how to find them. The wall broke again, but as we worked to repair it, one giant wave came in with the tide and filled the whole pool with chilly sea water, letting us know the ocean thought it was time to get out.

Mostly dry and dressed, I headed back up the path. Some of the tour group girls had assured me they had seen honest to goodness glowworms on the path on their way in, not just gleams of moonlight, so I decided to look extra close on my way back to the cabin just in case. The first little fairy lights I saw were above me, but at this time I didn’t even know glow worms lived outside of caves at all, and only knew that in caves they were often on the ceilings, so why not? But when I moved the leaves around, it became obvious the lights were only reflections. Beautiful reflections that created a fantastical illusion of fairylights, but not glowworms.

This happened a few more times and just as I was ready to give up and put her sightings down to mistaken moonlight, I glimpsed a pale blue glow much lower to the ground, in a shadow where no moonlight should be falling. I moved in closer and shifted the leaves above it around to change the pattern of light and shadow but the glow remained in place. More than that, I saw a few more glows around it, winking out from the underbrush like stars.

The glowworms were hiding alond the wet rock banks beside the path, sheltered by the ferns and other low growing plants giving them an environment not unlike a cave. Now that I knew what I was looking for, it became easier and easier to spot them along my walk. Pictures of these creatures are only possible with long exposure, so I have none, but more than that, pictures I look at online are not accurate to my memory. Often the pictures that make the headlines are very beautiful and very artistic, making the worms seem like tiny lanterns, as bright as fireflies, as though you could put a few in a jar and see your way. It’s just not so. The glow worms are bright but so tiny that each one gives off only a speck that doesn’t even light up the rock it’s resting on. Most of the online photos are in caves, which is probably why I didn’t realize they even existed outside the cave environment, but even the few I found in the bush are set so that you can see the glow and the plants clearly. Watching with your own eyes, you peer into the darkest shadows and specks of phosphorescence peer back from the blackness. That may not make a stunning photograph, but it’s one heck of a personal experience.

Hot Water Beach by Day

The details of my campsite and breakfast will be in the forthcoming “Sleeps & Eats” post, but for now, suffice it to say that sleep and food were achieved before the onset of the next day’s low tide.


20160818_112555My breakfast spot was nearby a public restroom and shower as well as a totally different path down to the water. When the hours lengthened enough to head to the beach, I wandered over to the changing rooms and got kitted out with my suit, sunscreen and shade hat. The clear sky of the night before had carried over into the morning and I didn’t want to get sunburnt while soaking up my hot spring. The beach was also quite full of people. I was even more glad in that moment that I’d had the chance to spend a few hours the night before in silence and solitude. I love people and I had a great time chatting with the other bathers that morning, but I am grateful it was not my only experience of the beach.

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I still didn’t have a shovel, but the other beach-goers were happy to share theirs so it was no problem. It’s not a solution I’d recommend, but if you’re absentminded, it’s not the end of the world. I picked a likely looking spot and dug out a spadeful of sand. The hole quickly filled with water, which I was glad to see because it meant I did not need to dig much to get a bath going. The water was incredibly hot. I stopped digging when I had enough for a footbath, thinking I could warm my toes and move more sand by hand slowly as I soaked my feet. Alas, the water was too hot! I borrowed a bucket from another nearby family to add seawater to cool it down, but this only lasted a few minutes before the heat returned. Soon enough, I had to abandon my small pool because I couldn’t dip my toes to soak nor my hands to dig more.

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I wandered around, trying to triangulate the area we’d been in the night before, thinking if I could be nearer the sea, I could get a channel of cool water with each incoming wave as I had done on the beaches as a child. I dug my hand into the sand in another spot only to find it icy cold beneath the surface. As I tested more and more, I remembered the alternating cold and hot waves in the pool from the night before and surmised they must have accidentally included at least one of each, a hot and a cold source, so I set about trying to find a spot that had two such close together. Before I could, however, a young couple nearby decided to leave the beach and I simply poached their pool which was large and well balanced in temperature.

This set me up sharing pool walls with several other groups, as diggers tended to simply expand until they ran into another pool. No one minded and everyone shared, which was refreshing. No one invaded an occupied pool without invitation, but neither did anyone get grumpy or territorial and everyone was generally having a great time. Gradually, the pools around me emptied of their original inhabitants and were claimed by new arrivals. Two ladies were having trouble finding a good spot so I invited them to join me as I had more than enough space, and then we got a young couple as well, so my own stolen pool held 5 of us by the end. We just dug out deeper spaces or farther walls as we needed to.20160818_131034_3-animationThere was one pool between mine and the sea, which provided a worthy barrier when the tide began to turn. At one point I had an unobstructed view of the ocean, so I could watch the same large rock breaking waves as I had seen in the moonlight. The young couple left early, and the two ladies tried to hold out against the oncoming tide, but had seen nearer pools get washed away in the surf and were loathe to be doused in cold seawater. I had learned from my previous experience and had built the seaward wall up as much as I could to forestall the inevitable, but eventually the waves took it down for the last time. It was nearing 2pm and I still wanted to visit the famous Cathedral Cove before bidding farewell to the Coromandel Peninsula.

Cathedral Cove

20160818_145050Although Cathedral Cove car park is a mere 10 minutes up the road from Hot Water Beach, there is a further 45 minute hike (according to the sign) to the cove itself. The cove is not accessible except by taking this walk or by kayaking in from another point. It is famous more for it’s breathtaking beauty than for any particular historical importance, although it was used in the filming of Prince Caspian.

20160818_152828The timed signposts for trails in NZ were a bit frustrating to me because there was absolutely no way to know how fast one should walk to achieve this time. I’m perfectly capable of walking quickly, but I like taking my time on a forest walk and I can better judge my time if I know the length of the walk instead of the average hiker’s time. Average flat ground speed might be 5kmph, but of course rough terrain can change that too. Waipoua said about 40 minutes for the walk out to Te Mata Ngahere and back (very smooth trail), but I took about 2 hours because of all my stopping and looking. Waipu said 1.5 hrs for a 2km trail (very steep), and I took a little over 3 hours exploring things and watching the wildlife. So when Cathedral Cove said 45 minutes one way, I was skeptical. However, even with my frequent stops I still did manage to20160818_154224 make it in about 50 minutes, so well done on those sign makers.

The trail is a good mix of up and downs, most of which are very gentle and easy to traverse. Like many of the trails in NZ, I got to see a wide variety of landscapes in a very short time but especially the rain-forest and pastoral farmlands. I even got treated to a splash of pink by a surprise stand of (probably) cherry trees. The very end of the trail that leads down to the cove is quite steep and equipped with stairs, but I promise, it’s worth it.

Once you step out of the recessed wooden stairway onto the pale,
almost white sand of Mare’s Cove, you are treated to a sight so often reserved for magazine advertisements of expensive brands of jewelry or perfume: a pristine coastline. As if this were not enough, when you set foot on the beach and look left, you are greeted by the cathedral that gives this cove it’s name: a natural tunnel in a large cliff-like rock that protrudes out into the sea. Unlike the hole in the rock in Bay of Islands, this is a fairly long tunnel that visitors to the cove can freely walk into and explore. Out the other side20160818_155708 of the hole is the actual cove named Cathedral, but since I had left Hot Water Beach as the tide was coming in, I was loath to wade through the waves to reach the other cove, not knowing how fiercely the water level would be rising or how wet I would get trying to come back. Remember, it’s winter in August and I already knew just how cold that ocean was.

20160818_162042The sun was also low in the afternoon sky when I arrived, casting the coves into shadow. There is no doubt that this beautiful area is well worth a visit, but next time I’ll be sure to come down in the early morning when sunlight fills the beaches. As a result of my slightly off timing, I’m afraid my photographs are mostly in silhouette, but they do capture a bit of the majestic quality of this coastline. In addition to the star of the show, the cove also has some beautiful rock formations and a small waterfall.

I think when I go back, I’ll definitely spend more time in Coromandel, not just to go back to the Hot Water Beach (which I will never get tired of) but to spend more time at Cathedral Cove to enjoy the effects of changing sunlight and get in some snorkeling in the Marine Reserve.20160818_165705These long shadows and deep silhouettes told me it was time to hit the trail back unless I wanted to be hiking in the dark. In summer, I might have lingered anyway to play in the warmer water and to dry off in the summer night air on the walk back, but the temperatures dropped rapidly after dark on my visit and I’d already had one moonlight walk through the bush the night before.20160818_173257_richtonehdrI met up with another traveler on the path back and we pointed out great spots to pause and take pictures of the sunset to each other, arriving back at the car park just in time to see the last rays dip below the mountain ranges to the West. As we were about to part ways and get back into our cars to warm up, she pointed to a tiny white sliver on the ocean in the Eastern sky. “What is that? Is that the moon?”, she asked. I was entirely incredulous. There was no way. It reminded me a bit of a snow-capped mountain far in the distance and the blue and pink ribboned sky was hazy, distorting the details. As we watched, however, the shape grew and it became obvious that she had been right.

We quickly grabbed jackets from our cars and returned to the lookout spot to stare in awe at this atmospheric lunar phenomenon. The sunset and moonrise only happen at the same time on the evening of a full moon, so this was literally the only day in the entire month that I could have even potentially seen this happen. As happy as I was to be on Hot Water Beach with a (nearly) full moon, I didn’t plan my holiday around the moon phases, so it was sheer luck (or more of that cosmic intervention?) that I happened to be on the East coast to watch the sun set in the mountains behind me and then turn to watch the moon rise over the sea in front of me.

Cameras are nearly incapable of capturing the glory of a rising full moon. Low in the sky, the atmospheric distortion makes the moon appear enormous, a golden coin you could reach out and pluck from the sky. On top of that, watching the full moon rise in the lingering twilight of sunset meant that we watched it rise like a champagne bubble through the layers of color still staining the sky. The familiar seas of the moon were oriented differently, upside down from what I was used to seeing in the Northern Hemisphere and it made the appearance of the rabbit in the moon quite clear and dramatic. I watched in pure awe and gratitude for the fact that such a sight could exist and that I could exist to see it. I watched long after the moon rose high and the sky turned to dark blue and I felt again that my journey was especially blessed and that perhaps the gods of New Zealand were gifting me with these truly wondrous and awe inspiring experiences.


From Coromandel, I traveled to Rotorua to explore more geothermal wonders. Stay tuned for hot spring waterfalls on the next installment of Tales from the Land of the Long White Cloud. Plus, Rotorua is where I met the Maori family and learned about the culture and traditions of the not-quite-first people of Aotearoa. In the mean time, please enjoy the photo albums on my Facebook page and follow along for snippets and snapshots of my ongoing adventures in Korea. Thanks for reading!