Mucho Magma!

Rotorura isn't the kind of city you catch glimpses of looming in the distance. In fact, you don't even need your eyes to sense you're drawing near. Just use your nose. The not-so-subtle scent of sulphur hangs over the countryside surrounding the city while steam rises from any hole in the earth.



In this hotbed of geothermal activity, people are the only ones not allowed to smoke. "No smoking in the thermal valley." Really???

Not for the faint of heart

Driving in New Zealand is what I affectionately call a white knuckle experience. That's me in our trusty, crusty old Honda negotiating one of many winding curves on a rocky one-way road. Medians? Ha! Guard rails? Forget it. Even the "expressways" are mostly two-lane roads. And when a semi passes you mere feet away in the opposite lane going 100+km/hr, the whole car shakes.

Through all this, it's hard to keep your eyes on the road and off the eye-popping scenery. I don't know how Kiwis do it. Actually they don't do it too well either and have some of the highest traffic fatality rates in the world, which is I suppose why you see public service announcements regularly advising that "speed kills" or "There's a time bomb ticking at every intersection: you." Not much for mincing words around here. So buckle up and give it a go.

Oh, and did I mention the sheep crossings?