Cuba - Proof of Life

I know that this blog has long since lost its claim to actuality, but in the light of
recent complaints about the neglection of new updates I suppose that an explanation is
due, even after being already 6 weeks in Cuba with less than one weeks left until the
fin(anci)al deadline.

First: ;) Internet is always bothersome in vacation, but in Cuba you need both a lot of time and money to use it - and neither of them I have in abundance (anymore). Internet in Cuba seems to be as strictly rationalized as food, soap or human rights...
Second: I would like the blog to be honest about Cuba - and I guess it's maybe better to leave the country first ;)

I am honestly sorry for all the emails or messages I have to leave unacknowledged. But that's just for now, and I look forward to meeting every single one of you again personally, after the 1st of May, when I will touch capitalist ground again.

For now only this much: I'm fine! Very fine. Of course I don't feel the nervous excitement of a short holiday trip anymore after such a long period of time, but still I'm enjoying every day of it, as much as I look forward to being at home (for some time) again.

Hasta pronto, viva el 1ro de Mayo!

Peru

The show must go on - and so did we. So we headed off to our next destination: Puno. This bus ride went by uneventfully, compared to the last one. Yes, the bus broke down, too, but without crashing into the ditch, and a substitute bringing us to Cuzco was quickly found.
Our schedule alloted not more than half a day in Puno, just enough for the tourism-worn floating villages and villagers on Lake Titicaca.


Infernal clouds hovering over Puno


Most Peruvian women maintain the same body proportions for all their live...


You don't have to be Jesus to walk over water on Lake Titicaca...

The only pity we felt, quite surprisingly, was that we couldn't stay longer in the city of Puno itself than for a quick stroll through the center and a dinner in one of the restaurants. Because our choice of the latter was extraordinarily lucky: The live music was stunning and the guinea-pig exceptionally tasty ;) ! So even though we initially had plans to skip Puno in favour of another Peruvian city like Arequipa, our goodbye was a rather hurried and reluctant one when we had to leave for the bus to Cuzco while the band was still playing and the dancers on fire.


The dancers were struggling hard for just a handful of tourists


No more squieking for you, little fella

The bus ride to Cuzco was keeping the series of strange incidents on our South American bus rides alive, when an infuriated woman whose luggage was obviously somehow displaced by the agency, was banging at the bus with a big wooden bench. But they didn't pay too much attention at her and kept rushing on to Cuzco...

Despite the majority of tourists come to Cuzco in order to see Machu Picchu, this city is not like Aguas Calientes (the last train stop before MP) a mere transit zone, but rather an excellent supporting act, which in some aspects manages to outperform the main act. Our hostal was a bit far from scratch, but top quality and top views from up on the hillside. The city itself with its almost cuddly streets, cheap but classy restaurants is radiating atmosphere.


A pageant on the occasion of the 500th anniversary of the University of Cuzco


San Francuzco


Culture, History and Basketball

From Cusco we took a shared taxi with some guys to a village with the tacky name of Ollantaytambo, a fortress which lies a bit closer to Machu Picchu in the Inka Valley, in order to save some money by reducing the immensely expensive train ride to Aguas Calientes to a minimum. (Unfortunately we didn't have the time to do one of the hikes to MP, which take several days). At the end we saved about 5 disappointing dollars by that, but we gained another interesting experience by sharing the taxi and the train ride with two funny Brazilians, who were still heavily drunk from the night before.


The train to Aguas Calientes: More $/h than km/h

Over Aguas Calientes I will put the cloak of silence. There is nothing more to say than that the best time filler, while we were waiting for the next days' visit to Machu Picchu, was playing cards and drinking with the Austro-German-Swiss-Connection...
Nevertheless, the next morning we got up at 3:45 to climb the ancient Inka stairway up to Machu Picchu, to be at the gate before it opens and the tourist masses are being carted there in busloads. But somehow we got lost on the pitch-black early morning hours and didn't manage to be the first at the gate. But after some adept positioning tactics at the ticket booth we were the first in MP this day!


The eerie way up over the Inca stairway

What can I say about Machu Picchu? There are two kind of people on this world: the ones who have seen Machu Picchu, and the others... ;) I don't know if I was more impressed by the almost palpable air of history, or by surrounding mountains whose steep slopes enclose MP like a prison wall.
As we were the first up there we got one of the only 200 tickets for Huaynapicchu, the peak neighboring and rising high above MP. We had luck with the weather: The early-morning fog quickly dispersed and the sun painted the grassy ruins and the surrounding jungle in lively green nuances. But as it is still a lot smaller than Angkor Wat (though equally impressive), it can be easily seen in one day, and so we headed back to Cusco the same afternoon.


Macho and his Bitchu


Lost in Space


The Inca bridge - Paso prohibido. Not that I would have liked to walk it...


Nowadays' inhabitants of MP


On top of Huaynapicchu. No idea who the guy posing with us is.


On top of the world

Due to a lack of time (and Mojo, to be honest) we couldn't do the detour to the canyons of Arequipa, but rather went on directly to Lima. Lima is not a beautiful city (not at all!) but it is tachycardia pure. I actually liked it: Its smelly, noisy and dirty - like some of my best friends...
We lived in an apartment of an elderly pair of sisters, which, together with the Nippes figures, old clocks and Maria statues, made it fell like a retirement mansion on the countryside - wouldn't it have been in the 14th floor of a huge apartment building overlooking Lima.



Views from our window

So it may seem strange that our only activity in Lima apart from shopping, dining and a bit of sightseeing was Paragliding, which didn't even get us as high up as the flat we were living in. But the setting over the cliffs beneath the line of posh hotels at the promenade was unique.


Painful equipment check


And off we go. Up there is just complete silence and relaxation. (Or would have been, if my pilot wasn´t chatting away on his cellphone...)


Preparing for the landing...

Finally, it was time to say goodbye. Goodbye to South America, to our long-time travelmates from AUT/GER/SUI - and to Stevie. At least a rehearsal of the real goodbye one day later in Havana, Cuba, because we were booked on different flights to the stopover in Panama. Altough the check-in-procedure at the airport was quite a hassle and involved several calls to the STA Travel helpdesk, we could finally board our planes and meet again in Panama.

Placid Puno at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157616234249276/
Cosy Cuzco at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157617212731699/
Lively Lima at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157617213179089/
And too Muchu of Picchu at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157616272054854/

Bolivia - Viva la Coca

In Uyuni we took in some of the Carnaval spirit (just metaphorically speaking) before taking the same day´s bus to La Paz, but soon our good mood got clouded as much as the busdrivers drunken or sleepy vision, when, after 2 hours of drive, the bus for no apparent reason crashed into the ditch, almost tipping over. This left us waiting in the cold rain for 2 hours, stretching the already 16-hour bus drive into an 18 hours (18 Bolivian bus hours are, roughly converted, 36 felt Argentinian bus hours.) I am still wondering how the entire bus managed to go the whole way with only one piss stop after the accident..


Carnaval in Uyuni


Tilt

In La Paz we put up at a hostal called "The Wild Rover", which came with pool table, pub quiz, funny green hats and everything the Irish can dream of. Although the culture shock hit us hard when we saw the first group of redheads taking in their breakfast (beer and aspirine) in the early afternoon, we soon learned that is it not too bad in La Paz to have a good bar at your hands, without having to leave your home at night.


That´s hardly healthy, but obviously fun


Bowler hats and Ponchos


Coca a la carte


La Paz and Illimani


The labyrinthine streets of La Paz


Bankrobbers? Bolivien task forces? No, shoeshiners!


But nevertheless we got our quantum of adrenaline when we did a downhill mountainbike tour on the notorious Yungas road, advertised as "the most dangerous road in the world", where in the last year alone 43 people died, according to a roadsign, 30 of them bikers, according to our guide. The good thing is, during this 3 hour trip you knock off 3000m of altitude, the bad (or exciting) thing is that the street is not broader than 3 or 4 meters and you have a constant drop between 100 and 700 meters to your left! (Yeah, I´m letting numbers speak for me today.) This is by the way the only road with left-hand-driving in Bolivia, plausible if you imagine two trucks trying to pass each other on this road.


The Yungas road...


...carved into the mountains

After the ride we visited the Wildlife Rescue Park at the end of the track where abandoned animals are being taken care of and slowly introduced into their natural habitat again.


Stevie got really indifferent to beggars after 1 month of South America...


The turtle whisperer


But what would have killed me in Bolivia finally, wouldn´t have been a bike or bus accident, but Stevies intentions of climbing a nearby, relatively (!) easy accessible 6000m-peak, of which there are many in La Paz´ vicinity. (Un)fortunately the weather was upsetting our plans and we finally left South America without doing our masterpiece.

Microsleep and its effects at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157616232728906/
I went down the most dangerous road in the world and all I got was a lousy sunburn on the nose: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157616143733865/

Chile

Once again in the bus, we saw the flat of Yuyui disappearing in the rear window and soon we were passing the first cactus, Llamas and Vicuñas in the altiplanos of the Precordillera de los Andes. At the 4300m Paso de Sica we shortly had to gasp for air while handling the Argentinian border formalities, but soon we where "down" again at San Pedro in the Atacama desert of Chile.


At the Argentinian border post. Hypoxia makes Stevie grumpy ;)


Travelling also means searching for your true Self...


Slurping Mate in the Bus

San Pedro is as Mexican as it can get considering that we where in Northern Chile: Painted and scalding wooden doors in red clay walls, dusty sand roads and a merciless sun above. The heat didn´t really fuel our motivation to do things like sandboarding or riding bikes through the desert, so we just visited the nearby Valle de la Luna.


Valle de la Luna


The man on the moon


Unreal


Tall blondes are always very popular photo backgrounds


What we missed by skipping the Ho-Chi-Minh tunnels, we got in the Moon Valley


Daredevil


Rocks at the Valle de la Muerte. Originally called Valle de Marte - Valley of Mars - by some Danish pastor, who seemed to have similar pronunciation problems like me.

But the principal magnet of the Atacama region is the 3-day Jeep tour to Bolivia. It is not only the most scenic, but also the cheapest and fastest way to get from San Pedro to Southern Bolivia, the region of the Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt flat in the world. It is not one of these Jeep Tours where you might as well go with a low-slung Opel, it is one where a Jeep is really necessary. And better not one of the new American models, as we´ve been told by our driver, but an old Toyota which he can just fix with his tool box and a bit of wire, should something go wrong in the middle of the desert. There are no roads, just rough tracks of sand, rocks, riverbeds and gravel. ´Cause what is called desert is actually a variety of landscapes, as different as they can get without almost any flora and fauna.


Pit stop at a hot pool. Now I know, Borax (whatever this is) makes skin itch...


Enduring scalding heat and freezing cold


A maverick. The volcanic pool, not Stevie


I guess the view from the floor was not good enough ;)


Flamenco!


On the bow of the Titanic

But the biggest risk on this trip are overtired (and sometimes drunk) drivers, who literally have to spend all their lives in the Jeeps. They can call themselves lucky if their wife is a cook in one of the two lodgings on the track.
But due to a misunderstanding in the price negotiations we went with a more expensive but also more reliable company, which maybe was a lucky twist for us, as some really bad accidents occur on this tour now and then. On our second day, a Jeep of another company overturned, down a steep riverbed. (Luckily nobody was hurt too gravely.)
But our driver was always perfectly sober and, apart from the occasional coca-leaves he was chewing, perfectly clean. He also answered sporadic questions of his passengers patiently like: "Will there be more sun tomorrow?" "Depends on the weather." Or: "How does the Salar look like when it hasn´t rained?" "Dryer."
We also had luck with our travel companions, who were an interesting mixture from Germany, Switzerland and Vorarlberg. At least the German spoke a language we could understand ;) Even tough some of us had problems with the altitude, especially during the first night at about 4500m, we had a great time together and with some of them we kept travelling until Lima...


Llamas posing for Stevie


the incredible Hulk strikes back


Ghetto slam


Our driver "revitalizing" himself for the drive


Had too much coffee for breakfast


Cactus island in the middle of the salt flat


You talkin´ to me?


Pyramide


This one didn´t work out as well as the last one


The Jeep


Felt like dying and waking up in heaven - but then I saw Stevie...


Watch the first seconds of Matt Hardings famous vid: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNF_P281Uu4


Sorry for this big load of pics, normally I try to keep the albums small, but this time I couldn´t help!

Saint Peter at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157616142141775/
Lick the floor at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157616142719693/

Argentina - or: the Autobus Diaries

After the big laze on the Cooks another deadline was closing in on us: Stevie’s departure from Lima on the 11th of March. This meant 4 countries to see in less than 4 weeks. The batteries were still well recharged but the energy draining quickly after 5h of flight from Rarotonga to Auckland, 12h of stopover at the airport and another 11h of flight to Buenos Aires.

‘Buenos Aires’ (like ‘La Paz’) is one of these cities whose name promises something it can’t keep. BA is a rather polluted and moreover noise city with a fair share of hustlers. Still, there are some nice spots and sights, but the European flair the city boasts with isn’t quite what I was looking for in South American cities. (In contrast, the first cash machine I tried to use, which didn’t give out my solicited 300 pesos, fit my image of SA perfectly.)
But considering that all the people we met who have been to BA for a long time not only liked, but idolized it, particularly the night life, I am maybe doing the city wrong. But we stayed in our hostel 2 of our 3 nights in BA, where we spent the evening with some nice Chilean girls, which we had some hard time communicating with, as they spoke Spanish exclusively and my Spanish still needed (and still does) a lot of brushing up on. But the last evening, while I was going to bed early thinking that I´d have to die from a meat poisoning after we had allmost an entire cow including all its intestines for dinner, Stevies Spanish skillz proved to be airtight when he responded to the girls, asking where I was, with: "comer mucho carne"...


The cementerio de Ricoleta, with Evita´s grave. Lots of mauseleoums for BA´s haute volee...


La Boca, the colorful artist and Tango district of BA


Darum-tum-tu-tum


He still got it


We even met Diego Maradona, financing his addiction by taking pictures with tourists...


Unexpectedly I survived the meat intoxication, and we could take the next bus to Puerto Iguazu. With a duration of 17 hours it should be one of our shorter bus rides in South America. And: the most comfortable one. Argentinian buses definitely meet their reputation, they come up with steward(ess), dinner, whiskey on the rocks and - most surprisingly - enough leg space!


Towards (North)West - towards the setting sun

Puerto Iguazu is a small pueblo, but its share of the the Iguazu waterfalls is outstanding, compared to the Paraguayan or Brazilian side (even though Brazil is said to have the better views). So after one day at the Argentinian side we felt like we´ve seen it all and left our all-inclusive-club-ish hostal (Hostal Inn) to Salta in Northwest Argentina.


Somewhere over the rainbow


Standing at the uvula of the devil´s throat


I can´t see anything because of the spray, but I´m so wet and excited...


Only a part of the falls


Iguanas...


...and Alligators


Another 24 bus-hours and at least as many police checkpoints later, we arrived at the snug but fairly unexciting Salta, where we checked off the main sightseeing attractions, met a Death Metal music (Buenos Aires) and a Folklore music (Salta) fan, grabbed our last chance to bay a Mate and spent the rest of the time with what we like best in our holidays: Blogging...


Exploring Salta Austrian style


Salta at night


Good air at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157615721296347/
E-Wa-Zoo at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157615942549715/
Salta mortale at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157616184187054/

The Cooks - Atiu

The third and last island we were hopping on at the Cooks was Atiu - if you don´t count the nerve-racking stopover after a failed landing attempt on Mitiaru in heavy tropic rain.



If you ask yourself if we didn´t get tired of all these Cook islands with their boring white beaches and coconut trees, I´ll have to disappoint you. Atiu has some features that distinguishes it clearly from the other islands we´ve been on. There is no lagoon or wide reefs, but rather a platform of petrified Corals, which have been raised in a tectonic movement millions of years ago. These Corals form a rather edgy ground, which is penetraded by a whole system of caves with some unique species, and which is the fertile soil for all kinds of fruits, above all the Coffee, which Atiu is famous for. On a flat hill in the middle lies a small village with more churches than food shops, and more dogs than people.
At the time were on Atiu, there were said to be two other tourists on the island, which we never met. :) But allegedly BBC was shooting its Survivor- (or Shipwreck-, whatever) show at one of the 28 beaches of Atiu during our stay, so there probably have been some millionaires trying to survive on the island without their blackberries and limousines - but they were isolated by guards and we never got to see them.


Stevie basking in the cool water of the Anataketake caves, where the fascinating Kopeka bird is nesting, who navigates both by eye-vision if there is light and by clicking noises in the dark.


The Southern Coast of Atiu. One beach next to each other, seamed by a wide reef.


The Sinkhole near the Coral Garden. Can get pretty rough when the waves are high. I could barely hold on the the edges when I tried to snorkel into it.


Atiu´s lush interior. Fruits like Mango on end!


To put it in a coconut shell: Atiu was a complete waste of time! 5 days of lazing around on the porch (at a pace of 1 book/day), strolling down the dirt roads when we felt like it and listening to the sporadic broadcasts of the Cook Island radio stations´ pacific sounds - How I love wasting my time!!!


Our little mansion, which we had alone for ourselves almost the whole time.

Things got even more wasted when we were visiting the local Tumunu´s, the bush beer drinking sessions and Atiuan equivalent of an Irish Pub. During these gatherings you sit in a circle around some sort of barkeeper who constantly keeps giving out the sweet (and strong) bush beer made of malt, sugar and seasonal fruits, in small coconut cups out of a big canister. At Tumunus there is a lot of singing and sometimes food involved, but also a strict set of rules when someone is allowed to raise his or her voice.
I hope Stevie will provide you with some photos of the Tumunus (and the Sunday Mass) soon.

Get wasted at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157615495105730/

The Cooks - Aitutaki

Visiting the Cooks without doing at least a quick side trip to Aitutaki would be like going to Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower. The 500-inhabitant-island sports the most beautiful, vast and blue lagoon, with green turtles, corals and reef fish being the gems in the crown of the Cooks. It is surrounded by very small motus (little islands), which you can go to by boat.

On One Foot Island for example, there is a small post office where you can have your passport stamped with a big, smeary, black foot (this can´t be legal, can it?)...which we of course did ;)




One foot island



The lagoon cruise, a MUST on Aitutaki!



Stevie having his leg hair removed by the hords of fish



The one dollar for the Cambodian straw hat still served valuably


But to Aitutaki, you better come prepared (if you dont live in a resort): Vegetables and bread are sometimes not easy to obtain, altough fruits can be picked in abundance, even in town. (That´s were two streets cross.) If you don´t eat freshly caught fish (or moray, in our case - see the food post), the stores are even more expensive then on Rarotonga as everything has to be flown in, first to Raro then to Aitutaki.



Enjoying the beach of the 5-star resort for a while, before we were being...dislodged...



A giant clam, probably dragged into the lagoon for the tourists.



Public transport on Aitutaki - hitchhiking



Nice on the outside, nice on the inside



The island show. The dancers were not as, let´s say professional, as on Rarotonga


The Cook´s choice at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157615495037196/

Aitutaki!!!

Ein kleiner Vorgeschmack auf die Cook Islands:

(aber nicht vergessen: auch fruehere Eintraege werden ueberarbeitet!)

Willkommen auf Aituaki: der riesige Flughafen!

...sollte ja nicht so schwer zu finden sein...

Ein erster Vorgeschmack auf die Insel!

Am Strand der 5 Sterne Anlage ;-)

Noch Fragen???!

Wird Stephan von unseren Gastgebern bekehrt?

Hier gings zum Schnorcheln - man kann die vielen Fische schon vom Trockenen sehen.

Stephan in seinem Paradies!

Eine neue Insel entsteht...


Moto

Postkarte?!

Einer der vielen nichtmenschlichen Einwohner von One Foot Island.

In Aitutaki duerfen auch die Kleinen mittanzen!

Ein etwas aelterer, stilbewusster Insulaner nimmt den selben Flug wie wir.

Leider muessen wi Aitutaki schon wieder Richtung Atiu verlassen...

The Cooks - Rarotonga

We left Auckland Thursday night and arrived on Rarotonga, the Cook islands main island, Thursday morning. The different way of life on the Cook islands strikes you immediately after leaving the plane, like the wave of humid heat. You get decorated with Ei´s, the fragrant orchid-garlands and a wrinkly islander is playing a tune on his ukulele.





Rarotonga from above. As you can see, almost the whole island is surrounded by a reef, which allows for swimming or snorkeling only on the spots where lagoons are being formed. Altough outside of the ledge the sea is pretty rough and every second day Scubadiving trips are cancelled because of this, I finally managed to go diving once, including a sickening boat ride in the warm rain while being shaken by the huge waves. In the end, the reef was pretty much the same as any reef in Egypt and I didn´t get to see sharks, rays or turtles that roam the sea around Rarotonga frequently, but I got to stroke Tom, the 20 year-old Triggerfish :)



Some of our lovely house reef pets (Moray and Stonefish)

There are probably three things, which generally describe island life on Rarotonga best:
1.) There are two bus lines, one is called "clockwise", and the other "anticlockwise".
2.) The average Cook islander is made of 70% beer, 30% fish n´chips, held together by less then 1% of hawaii shirt or pareu.
3.) There are four bars in Avarua: The Staircase, The Whatever Bar, Banana Court and Rehab. To be visited every Thursday to Saturday, preferably in aforementioned order...


What looks like the changing rooms of the Simmeringer Hallenbad is the Parliament of the Cook Islands




Our headquarters, the Rarotonga Backpackers



The weekly island shows at the Staircase Restaurant/Bar. Funny and entertaining.



Just a beach. ;)



Sunset á la Cook


Kia Orana at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157615313743005/

Coromandel und zurueck nach Auckland

Nun hatten wir nur noch zwei Tage auf Neuseeland. Da wir Auckland ja schon besichtigt haben und das Northland mehr Zeit beanspruchen wuerde, waehlten wir die landschaftlich sehr schoene Strecke ueber die Coromandel Halbinsel.

Auf dem Weg dorthin hatten wir wieder einmal Schwierigkeiten einen geeigneten Uebernachtungsplatz zu finden. Die Suche auf verschiedensten Feldwegen fuehrte uns allerdings erstens zu einem offensichtlich besitzerlosen Obstbaum (sehr lecker!) und andererseits sahen wir so auch mitten in der Nacht unsere erste Kiwiplantage (keine Fotos, da der Farmer irgendwie sehr misstrauisch gewirkt hat und wir deshalb schnell wieder umgedreht haben).

Stephan bei der naechtlichen Obstbesorgung.

Am naechsten Morgen gings weiter die Ostkueste nach Norden bis zum Hot Water Beach. Bei Ebbe kann man hier am Strand nur wenige Meter entfernt vom kalten Meereswasser Loecher graben und in heissem Thermalwasser baden. So weit die Theorie. Tatsache ist, dass nur an zwei bestimmten Punkten des langen Strandes wirklich heisses Wasser an die Oberflaeche sickert. Dort versammeln sich dann massenhaft Leute auf engstem Raum und beginnen mit Schaufeln bewaffnet wie wild zu graben. Wir haben uns natuerlich schon rechtzeitig vor dem Tidentief mit einer Pfanne und einem Kochtopf zum graben am Strand eingefunden und unser Glueck versucht. Aber es ist gar nicht so einfach: einerseits aendert sich der genaue Punkt des heissen Wassers staendig, andererseits werden die muehsam gebildeten Bassins immer wieder von extragrossen Wellen zerstoert. Hat man dan wirklich an der richtigen Stelle ein Loch gegrabe, kann es sein, dass das Wasser so heiss ist, dass man kaum darin sitzen kann! Nach etwa zwei Stunden an Veruchen aenderte Stephan daher seine Taktik und suchte kuckucksgleich sein Glueck in fremden Nestern (sehr zu empfehlen, da wirklich Kraft und Zeit sparend).

Zum Abkuehlen gings danach natuerlich ins kuehle Meer...

Stephan in seinem Element!

Anschliessend an diesen interessanten Zwischenstop ging es quer durch die Coromandel an die Westkueste der Halbinsel. Auf halben Weg haben wir noch die riesigen Kauribaeume besichtigt. Leider gibt es heute nur noch sehr wenige von ihnen, der groesste Wald ist im Northland, wohin wir ja aus Zeitgruenden nicht fahren konnten.

Aber zumindest konnten wir nach kurzer Wanderung einige junge (!) von ihnen bestaunen und uns von ihrer Groesse ueberzeugen.

Kauri-Baeume - breit...

...und hoch!!!

Den restlichen Nachmittag ging es dann durch die nette Huegel- und Kuestenlandschaft der Coromandel moeglichst weit Richtung Auckland.

Die Landschaft auf Coromandel ist friedlich und sanft:

Gruene Huegel und..

...ruhiges Meer.

Die wunderschoenen Landschaften, den klaren Himmel und die farbenpraechtigen Sonnenuntegaenge Neuseelands werden wir auf der weiteren Reise sicher vermissen!

Der letzte Sonnenuntergang auf Neuseeland. :-((

Am naechsten Tag legten wir dann noch die restlichen Kilometer nach Auckland zurueck, packten unsere Sachen und gaben unseren inzwischen lieb gewonnenen Jagger zurueck. Immerhin hat eruns in 27 Tagen auf ueber 5600 Kilometern nie im Stich gelassen!

Weiter gings zum Flughafen, wo Stephan sich bemuehte auch noch die restlichen Vorraete zu vernichten. Da es sich nur noch um Getraenke handelte machte sich dieser Versuch in einem riesigen Kugelbauch und zahlreichen Klogaengen waehrend des Fluges bemerkbar.... ;-)

Wenn man Neuseeland verlassen muss...

...bleibt so manchem nur noch der Griff zur Flasche...

...und weiter ging es zu den Cook-Islands mitten im Pazifik....

Goodbye Middleearth

Leaving nice but putrid Rotoura behind, we kept on following New Zealands volcanic faultline, which both underlies and threatens its existence at any given moment. This led us through the fertile region where most of the Kiwis in NZL (and probably in the world) are grown. Nevertheless, we resisted the temptation to visit "KIWI 360", where the probably biggest reproduction of a Kiwi fruit is on exhibit, and only stopped after reaching the Bay of Plenty in order to relax on the beaches flanking the volcanic Mt. Maunganui for a few hours.



Hoping for a last night of going out in nearby Tauranga, we once again underestimated the backwood-factor of New Zealand: One short cruise through the center of the more than 100.000 inhabitant-town quickly revealed that there will be no Party on the menu tonight. Lowering our expectations, we would have been happy with a mere internet cafe, but after one hour of searching and asking around we headed off frustratedly into the woods of Coromandel peninsula, where we planned to spend our last day in NZL.

Coromandel isn't one of the most spectacular regions in NZL - the Kauri trees are not as huge as on Northland, the beaches are not as nice as in Abel Tasman NP and the cities' struggle to come up with something of "historic importance" is almost ridiculous. But still, there are some goodies worth visiting:

Hot Water Beach, for example, is a beach with some (very confined) stretches of hot springs emerging from beneath the sand. The point is to dig a pool in the sand (at low tide) of at least 2 meters of diameter, against the constant destructive force of the waves, until, after having managed to do so, you find yourself exhaustedly sweating and your pool being occupied by some lazy sponger while you are taking a refreshing bath in the cold sea...


Men ARE multitaskers: hole-digging and dishwashing in one.

After a long day´s work

Another top nature experience on Coromandel was driving down the West Coast of the Coromandel Peninsula at sunset (where BTW you get to cross a bridge over the "Die Hard Stream") on a narrow coastal road that winds alongside the very still waters of the Bay of Auckland.



From Kiwi to Kauri at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157615380125610/

Rotorua

Aufgrund der begrenzten Zeit entschieden wir uns in Rotorua fuer ein Dorf, das sowohl Maorikultur als auch heisse Quellen und Geysire auf einmal zu bieten hatte.

Und gleich beim Ortsschild zeigte sich, dass es sih wirklich um ein Maoridorf handelte: der Name war einerseits lang und andererseits unausprechlich (bei einem Blick auf die neuseelaendische Landkarte wird man viele extrem lange Ortsbezeichnungen finden - manche erzaehlen ganze Geschichten)!

Maori fuer Anfaenger: unten der ausfuehrliche Name des Dorfes.

Weiter ging es zum Hangi, dem traditionell im Erdofen gekochten Essen der Maori. Die Bestandteile der Mahlzeit sind nicht wirklich aussergewoehnlich, aber denkt man daran wie es gemacht wurde schmeckt es natuerlich gleich doppelt so gut.

Stephans Haka-und-traditionelles-Maori-Essen Kombi.

Nach dem Essen machten wir einen Rundgang durch das Dorf und sahen uns die heissen Quellen an (Schlammloecher aus denen es stinkt und mehr oder weniger stark blubbert). Dabei sahen wir auch einige traditionell gekleidete Maori, manche mit etwas zweifelhaftem Auftreten....

Alkohol und Nikotin sind offensichtlich auch den Maori nicht fremd...

Abschliessend gab es noch eine gefuehrte Tour durch das Dorf mit vielen interessanten Details, sowie eine Tanz- und Musikdarbietung.

Der Dorfkochtopf: weiches Ei knappe zwei Minuten, hartes plus 45 Sekunden.

Der groesste Geysir der Thermallandschaft.

Manchmal sehen auch die Maoridamen beim Tanz ganz schoen gefaehrlich aus!

Obwohl das Dorf natuerlich sehr touristisch angehaucht ist und auch nur von den Eintrittsgeldern lebt, denke ich, dass es fuer einen kurzen Einblick in die Maorikultur doch geeignet ist.

Wer sich allerdings wirklich sehr dafuer interessiert und auch mehr Zeit hat wird wohl an anderen Plaetzen in Neuseeland mehr zufrieden gestellt werden.

Whakarewhatever

This is mainly a disclaimer to Stevies previous post on Rotoura.
The photo he posted of me is not a first symptom of me getting retarded from all the sulfuric acid we were sniffing in the Thermal Valley of Rotoura, it just depictures the utterly menacing and intimidating mimics associated with the traditional "Haka", the war dance of the Maori. The Maori are the native inhabitants of Polynesia, of whom a big (in every sense) minority lives in NZL nowadays.

Tewhakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawaiaho (speak: Faka) is a Maori village open for tourists (if they are willing to pay), where the native people of the pacific islands still keep up a more or less traditional way of life. So we got to eat the traditional Hangi (earth oven) meal and to watch an aforementioned Haka performance. One week later, on the Cook islands, we should discover that the real favourite food of the Maori is fish and chips, and that a Maori, who comes up to your table in a bar heavily drunk and starts molesting the girls, will, challenged traditional (Haka) style, response by giving you the finger.


I can so totally understand that


The Haka. Doesn't look like it on the pic, but really gives you the creeps.


Haka a la Stef(ph)an - Retch!


Even in their own four walls Maori seem to keep living traditionally...

Haka, Hangi and Hongi at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/stephan_mittas/sets/72157614979257394/

Taupo und die Schatzsuche

Nach der anstrengenden Wanderung ging es zurueck zum Lake Taupo um dort das dringend benoetigte Bad zu nehmen.

Im Lake Taupo wird spaetabends die Vulkanasche abgewaschen.

Ausserdem hatten wir noch eine andere Mission zu erfuellen: in muehsamer Kleinarbeit haben wir die Antworten fuer das Raetsel zusammengesucht, das uns Lisa, Nanni, Tessi und Ulli geschickt haben. Sie waren kurz vor uns in Neuseeland und so lieb uns einen Schatz zu hinterlassen, der aber sehr gut versteckt und schwer zu finden war. Nichtsdestotrotz haben wir es geschafft und bedanken uns vielmals fuer die vielen nuetzlichen Kleinigkeiten!
Besonders Stephan hat sich, wie man auch auf den Fotos sehen kann, gefreut wie ein kleines Kind bei der Ostereiersuche! ;-)

Was macht der da bloss....???

Das Ende der Schatzsuche und ein gluecklicher Stephan!

Vielen Dank fuer das tolle Raetsel! Das gibt Blumen fuer Lisa, Nanni, Tessi und Ulli!!!

Nach einer weiteren Nacht am Ufer des Lake Taupo ging es am naechsten Morgen ein kurzes Stueck weiter zu den Huka Falls. Hier zwaengen sich die Abflusswassermassen des Sees durch einen nur 15 Meter breiten Canon und bilden so einen der schoensten (auf jedenfall wasserreichsten) Wasserfaelle Neuseelands.

Vielleicht doch etwas zu wild fuer eine weitere Rafting-Tour!

Da es bei der Besichtigung leider leicht zu regnen begann ging es schon bald nach unserer Ankunft weiter nach Rotorua, wo wir die heissen Quellen und ein Maoridorf besuchen wollten.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing - der lange Weg der beiden Hobbits auf den Schicksalsberg

Nach einer Nacht am Ufer des Lake Taupo ging es am naechsten Tag los zur grossen Wanderung auf der Nordinsel (Tongariro Alpine Crossing). Da es in der Frueh sehr bewoelkt aussah und erst um ca. 9 Uhr die Sonne ansatzweise zum Vorschein kam, waren wir natuerlich wieder einmal sehr spaet, naemlich erst um elf Uhr am Startpunkt in der kargen Vulkanlandschaft. Man kann sich vorstellen, dass es bei inzwischen fast makellos blauem Himmel ganz schoen heiss war. Dafuer konnte man schon bei der Anfahrt eines der Tagesziele bewundern, den Mt. Ngauruhoe, besser bekannt als Schicksalsberg aus der Verfilmung der Herr der Ringe Trilogie.

Unser heutiges Hauptziel: ganz schoen maechtig und ein unausprechlicher Name!

Der Weg fuehrte anfangs relativ flach an einer Huette und einem kleinen Wasserfall vorbei, wurde aber immer steiler und fuehrte schliesslich auf einem Holzweg und Stiegen den ersten Pass hinauf. Obwohl Stephan zu Beginn etwas skeptisch war, fuehlte er sich doch so gut, dass er es auch aus eigenem Antrieb Frodo und Sam gleich machen wollte den Zusatzweg auf den Schicksalsberg in Angriff zu nehmen (immerhin fast zwei Stunden und etliche hundert Hoehenmeter Umweg!).
Und der Anstieg hattes es wirklich in sich: ohne Schatten und Weg ging es in der Mittagshitze steil den Schuttkegel des Vulkans hinauf. Dieses Stueck war wohl eines der anstrengendsten und schweisstreibendsten aller Wanderungen auf unserer Reise!

Jetzt wissen wir wie sich Frodo und Sam gefuehlt haben muessen...

Endlich am Kraterrand angekommen konnten wir dann die rauchenden Stellen en genauer betrachten. Wirklich ausserordentlich heiss an manchen Stellen - da konnte man sich nicht mal hinsetzen - und trotzdem nervten uns massenhaft Insekten bei unserer wohlverdienten Rast!

An manchen Stellen dampft es schon noch ganz kraeftig und der Boden ist auch richtig heiss!

Auch die Aussicht auf den Mt. Ruahepu, Mt. Tongariro, unser weitere Route und Lake Taupo war ausgezeichnet. In der Ferne konnte man selbst den einsam an der Westkueste stehenden Vulkan Mt. Taranaki (auch Mt. Egmont) erkennen.

Aussicht ueber den weiteren Verlauf der Route, vorbei am Tongariro.

Hoechster Vulkan der Gruppe und Schigebiet im Winter: Mt Ruahepu.

Es folgte ein Kraterrundgang und schliesslich ein ausserordentlich rasanter Abstieg oder Abrutsch ueber Schnee und Vulkangeroell. Hat es uns ueber eine Stunde gekostet den Gipfel zu erreichen, so waren wir in nur 10 bis 15 Minuten schon wieder zurueck am Ausgangspunkt!

Der eine Ring wurde trotz genauester Inspektion des Kraters nicht wieder gefunden.

Hinunter ging es dann wesentlich schneller: erst ueber ein Schneefeld...

....und danach im Laufschritt den Schuttkegel hinunter.

Nach diesem Hoehepunkt der Wanderung zu Beginn ging es abwechslungsreich weiter durch die Vulkanlandschaft. Fast alle Erscheinungsbilder einer solchen Gegend bietet die Tongariro Alpine Crossing: wuestenaehnliche Gebiete, bunte Seen, Vulkane und dampfende Erdspalten auf engstem Raum!

Die weitere Route fuehrte an saemtlichen Nebenerscheinungen eines Vulkangebietes vorbei.

Auch weiter unten dampft es immer wieder gehoerig aus den Spalten.

Nichtsdestotrotz: wir waren zu Fuss unterwegs und so koennen auch relativ kurze Distanzen (einige Kilometer) am Ende eines langen Tages ganz schoen muehsam werden. Nach einem endlos scheinenden Abstieg waren wir ganz schoen erschoepft, und dann musste ja auch noch das Auto vom Startpunkt geholt werden...

Alles in allem eine sehr empfehlenswerte Wanderung, man wird wohl nur schwer sonst wo eine derart vielfaeltige Vulkanlandschaft auf engstem Raum finden!