13.20 Tongariro & Taupo: What Lies Beneath

20.A Morning 'Glory' over Mt Ngauruhoe as Seen
from the Chateau Tongariro Hotel

Before leaving the USA, I came across an article on penguins in Scientific American. From this article I learned two things germane to New Zealand, one directly relevant to the topic of penguins, the other seemingly tangential to the topic.

Firstly, I learned that the scientific community currently largely subscribes to the notion that penguins first appeared in New Zealand. Fossil evidence suggests as much. And, although this wasn’t stated, the fact that New Zealand was naturally ‘friendly’ to flightless birds allowed for the appearance of the birds we call penguins. That New Zealand was flightless-bird-friendly raises other questions. If New Zealand was once attached to the supercontinent called Gondwana, what happened to all the mammals that it inherited from Gondwana, mammals that would have preyed on flightless birds if the mammals had been around? The best answer—not necessarily a good answer—is that most of what we now call New Zealand pretty much eventually sank beneath the waves after splitting off from Gondwana. That raises additional questions, not least why New Zealand ever again appeared above the waves. That gets me back to the second idea I learned from that Scientific American article.

I learned that what we now call New Zealand and New Caledonia are but the visible remnants of a so-called ‘submerged continent’ that is generally called ‘Zealandia’. Zealandia, so Wikipedia informs its readers, is mostly underwater, ninety-three percent of its area lying beneath the Pacific. As I described in an earlier post, most of the South Island is the result of the westward-moving Pacific tectonic plate overriding the northward-moving Indo-Australian plate. Meanwhile, the North Island, so pockmarked with active or ancient volcanoes and other evidence of subterranean ‘heat’, rides above the waves, thanks in part to the Pacific plate diving under the Indo-Australian tectonic plate. The diving under, you might say, leads to the Pacific plate being ‘cooked’ so much that it spews out lava, ash, and steam up above. Or at least that’s my layman’s simple picture of the complex natural processes that lie beneath what we see in New Zealand.

Last weekend’s sightseeing had a strong ‘subterranean slant’, if you will. Jean and I drove over to Cambridge (about 24 km [15 miles] from Te Awamutu), where we caught NZ Route 1, taking it south through Taupo and Tarangi. Thence we turned onto Route 46 and from 46 onto Route 47 and from 47 we turned onto Route 48. As easy as counting, we arrived at the Chateau Tongariro Hotel in the Tongariro National Park. New Zealand has fourteen national parks. Tongariro was the first, having been formed in 1887 after a Māori chief, Horonuku, conveyed the underlying land to the dominion of New Zealand. He did so with the understanding that the land was to become the nucleus of a national park. Tongariro National Park is now designated as a UNESCO World Heritage natural and cultural site.

There are three prominent peaks in Tongariro National Park, two of which were readily visible to us from the Chateau Tongariro: Ruapehu and Ngauruhoe. Weather permitting we eventually saw the park's namesake peak, Tongariro, both from the park periphery and from across Lake Taupo.

After a night of rain at the hotel’s elevation and snow at higher elevations, the mountains near the Chateau Tongariro shone in all their beauty and glory. As we retraced our inbound route, heading outbound and north, we entered a beclouded zone with viewing more varied. Whatever the weather, the landscape was highly various. This is as true of the North Island as it is of the South Island. Up in the ski village nestled on Mt Ruapehu one is surrounded by an andesitic rubble desert (See Photos 20.G,H,& I). Lower down one encounters native beech forest (Photo 20.F), as along the stream near the chateau. Elsewhere one encounters 'scrubland' (Photos 20.L & X); I don’t know what the Kiwis call scrubland. Then there are lands devoted to forest plantations (Photo 20.M). Beyond that there is mixed forest and farmland with a kind of Central European look about it (Photo 20.N). And so on and so forth. 

There is more than landscape to account for the recent rise of the New Zealand film industry, which has produced (among other films) the immensely popular Lord of the Ring ('LOTR') and Narnia series. But the highly varied New Zealand landscape has given Kiwi filmmakers an advantage in making movies at home. For example, in the LOTR series some of that Tongariro scrubland served as the 'Plains of Gorgoroth' and Mt Ngauruhoe served as 'Mt Doom'. Back in the real world...

Taupo is on the northeastern shore of Lake Taupo. The lake was made possible by volcanic eruptions and collapses, the most recent being a massive explosion around 180 AD. The Taupo area is still a subterranean hot zone. Since 1958 electricity has been generated in the Taupo area from a geothermal generating station at Wairakei (About thirteen percent of New Zealand's delivered electricity stems from geothermal generation). There are a number of fumarole fields in and around Taupo. You’ll see photos below (20.Q thru W) from the field we visited, called 'Craters of the Moon'. This field has expanded following the commissioning of the Wairakei generating station.

In a few more weeks more snow will drape Mt Ruapehu, allowing the ski runs on its formidable flanks to be opened for the winter. We won’t be joining the ski crowd. But we can hope to return in some manner and at some time. The Tongariro and Taupo 'hot zones' are fascinating areas of the North Island.

Volcanic regards,

Tim (& Jean)

PS In June 2016 reports surfaced of the discovery of a growing body of magma below the Bay of Plenty town of Matata, which is outside the active Taupo and Tongariro volcanic zones.

PPS Here's a link to the Wikipedia entry on the magnitude 7.8 earthquake that hit the South Island on 14 November 2016.

20.B Chateau Tongariro Hotel in Morning's Light

20.C Mt Ruapehu Seen from Whakapapa

20.D Mt Ruapehu in Morning Light, 27 May 2013

20.E Mt Ngauruhoe Seen from Chateau Tongariro's
Porte-Cochère

20.F Whakapapanui Stream near Chateau Tongariro

20.G Ski Centre in Iwikau Village on Mt Ruapehu

20.H A Home in Iwikau Village

20.I Another Home & More Andesitic Rocks

20.J Clouds about Mt Ngauruhoe

20.K Ditto Above

20.L Skirting Tongariro Natl Park on Route 47
Past the 'Plains of Gorgoroth'

20.M Forests along Route 46

20.N Forests & Fields along Route 1
South of Turangi (Excuse the Reflectance)

20.O Sunlight Reflected on Lake Taupo

20.P Mt Tongariro across Lake Taupo

20.Q Craters of the Moon Site with Taupo Nearby

20.R A Fumarole in Craters of the Moon

20.S More Fumaroles

20.T Fumaroles Big & Small

20.U Crater with Fumaroles

20.V A Mud Crater (with Hot Boiling Mud)

20.W A Mud Crater with Fumaroles

20.X A Snowcap amidst the Clouds

13.19 Hamilton: Dreams & Means

19.A Māori War Canoe (‘Waka’) at the Waikato Museum

Last Sunday Jean and I trekked to the Founders Theatre in Hamilton to attend a production of the Nutcracker Suite put on by the Moscow Ballet 'La Classique' on tour. The theatre was packed with grandparents and kids, as you might expect at a matinee performance. A Russian ballet company is as good a draw in Hamilton as it’s likely to be almost anywhere. Indeed, a company called the Imperial Russian Ballet is slated to come to Hamilton this coming November to stage a ‘Festival of Russian Ballet’. The Russian companies produce enticing performances. But what entices the Russians to come to Hamilton, aside from paying customers?

Any performing company hitting the road has to endure shortcomings. In Hamilton, in my opinion, the Founders’ stage is too small. This ‘stage-frame’, if you will, constrained the exuberance of the Moscow Ballet dancers. Or perhaps my own exuberance had been muffled before the onset of the performance. Despite its imagery on the website, the Founders Theatre auditorium has no more charm than could be found inside a brown sack. The exterior is even less attractive. Warehouses usually have the merit of clean lines but the exterior of the Founders is a clutter of junk heaped at the corner of Tristam Street and Norton Road in Hamilton. The Founders isn’t an attractive performance venue.

Was I—am I—being hypercritical? Perhaps. In life there is always a gulf between that to which we aspire and that which we achieve, between dreams and means. What governs our dreams individually or collectively is in the realm of the spiritual. And the spiritual can be divided into two realms, the religious and the ideological, the difference between the two being that the religious acknowledges a transcendence—Almighty God, a Ground of Being, higher spirits, etc.—while the ideological acknowledges nothing higher than human ideas to be made real—the will to power, the triumph of the masses, untrammeled nature unbound, 'have it your way', and so forth. Whether our aspirations are religious or ideological we inevitably fall short. If there is a role for humane criticism, it should be to suggest where or how shortfalls can or should be overcome within available means and far short of utopia.

Hamilton is a long way from being either a utopia or dystopia. Unlike so may other cities and towns in New Zealand or elsewhere that middle or muddle along and yet manage to be at least somewhat attractive, Hamilton remains—seemingly—a place shunned by those not residing there or nearby, as we are in Te Awamutu (TA). Why is that? The city’s botanical gardens are worthy of a visit, even by international travelers. I said as much in an earlier post. The gardens aside, does the city merit a visit? 

Hamiltonians are no less friendly than Kiwis elsewhere. Presumably most Hamiltonians are reasonably satisfied with their city. Homes are cheaper in Hamilton than in, say, Auckland, Hamilton’s urban and urbane neighbor to the north. There’s a broad selection of public and private schools to choose from. Community volunteerism, which seems so strong in Te Awamutu and the Waikato, is presumably no less strong in Hamilton, chief city of the Waikato. The town fields strong sporting teams (the Chiefs tops among them), hosts a major university (University of Waikato) and other tertiary institutions, hosts New Zealand's largest hospital, and so forth.

But Hamilton has an image problem and the ‘image’ may mask a deeper issue. What is the issue? I’m not sure. But Hamiltonians must recognize the image problem, if I’m to credit what I’ve read in Jesse Mulligan’s How to Speak New Zenglish, a tongue-in-cheek guide to Kiwiese. Mr Mulligan is a Kiwi TV personality and comedian who was born and raised in Hamilton. In the ‘Insults’ section of his 'how-to' book, he provides the following definition for ‘Hamilton’: ‘the only place people from Auckland and people from outside Auckland agree on’. That’s a self-deprecating jab of humor whose purchasing power—if it has any—must be its legitimate currency among Kiwis. There’s something about Hamilton that doesn’t set well with Kiwis (outside Hamilton).

If I could put my finger on the ‘insult’ that is Hamilton, it’s the almost complete absence of any sense of aesthetics that one finds about public places in town. Not complete, to be sure. There are beautiful parks—the Hamilton Lake Domain is my favorite. There are flowerbeds in the roundabouts. The rugby stadium and cricket stadium are not Olympic class, but they’re certainly humane enough. They do no harm. They’re not ugly.

On the other hand, the Hamilton CBD or downtown is a veritable disaster zone of banality and dowdiness sometimes masked at the pedestrian level by clever or even warm packaging. Hamilton's numerous restaurants give the CBD almost all the warmth or pizzaz that it has. The CBD is packed with buildings whose vintage appears to be the 1960s and 1970s and whose flavor is mere functionality. With some exception (mostly restaurants), one building after another, bereft of décor and decorum, is devoted to human function minimally defined: to work, to purchase, to indulge, to administer, etc. Buildings erected under the ‘form follows function’ creed are reduced to the status of machines or tools. Should we be surprised that the Hamilton central library (Photo 19.D) resorts to hysterical decorative measures to provide some distance from its pallid surroundings?  I suspect visitors with no ties to Hamilton often come away from the CBD with a sense that there’s no ‘there’ there.

While the form-follows-function ideology has worked its damage world-wide, often enough there have been older structures that by chance or design have survived, providing some sense of higher aspirations available and necessary to inform otherwise merely busy lives. Jean and I have seen this in the likes of Napier and Rotorua, Christchurch and Queenstown. We’ve heard that Wellington is quite attractive. We see and appreciate the attractions of so many New Zealand small towns, not least Te Awamutu, where we live. But attractive non-residential buildings are hard to find in Hamilton.

When we visited Hamilton this Sunday, we paid another visit, albeit brief on this occasion, to the Waikato Museum. Outwardly the museum’s appearance is at least OK, if not compellingly beautiful. The museum has a fine collection, among other things, of Māori artifacts and contemporary Māori art and craft. I once again appreciated the display of an old Māori war canoe (or ‘waka’), oriented towards a large window overlooking the Waikato River, which runs along one side of Hamilton’s CBD. As if taking cues from the Founders Theatre, the war canoe despite its prominence is hedged in (like the dancers). I would have preferred that the waka had been given more space on each side, so that I could look up at it as well as down into it.

Was ‘looking up’ to an instrument of war—however beautiful—regarded as morally and aesthetically suspect? Or was this simply a case of not having enough funds to create ample space for this beautiful, old canoe? I don’t know. In Te Awamutu the local iwi (or tribe) runs a school upon whose grounds a war canoe is stored out in the open but under cover. Check out photos 19.I, 19.J, and19.K, below. Apparently this canoe is still put afloat on special occasions. I rather think it’s given a better space for anyone's appreciation because its not so hedged in. The waka is to be looked up to. It's to be admired.

The function of a museum is not mere spectacle or inspection. A museum should be devoted to elevating instruction. That would require an admiration for beauty and truth in an age in which too often our cultural elites believe ‘beauty’ and ‘truth’ are mere human contrivances, determined by those who are in power. Humble beauty is a testament (not the only one) against the view that beauty is a 'power construct'. Look at the photos of the Hamilton central library (Photo 19.D), the Te Awamutu Library (Photos 19.E&F), and the Te Awamutu Little Theatre (Photos 19.G&H). The Little Theatre was TA’s first school. Of the three buildings which is most attractive, the most engaging, the most beautiful? I suspect most readers will elect the Little Theatre. I may be accused of stacking the deck. But the deep issue remains: What makes for an attractive or beautiful building? And more practically, How do we get more of them?

That last question is an important one for Hamilton, which lacks the beautiful settings of so many other New Zealand cities and towns, set as they are along the sea or amidst mountains. Beauty isn’t an easy thing, but we know it when we see it. Just ask the folks who produce, dance for, or see the Moscow Ballet.

Warm regards,

Tim (& Jean)

19.B Waikato Museum, Hamilton

19.C Entrance to Contemporary Māori Art Displays, Waikato Museum

19.D Hamilton Garden Place (Central) Library

19.E Entrance to Te Awamutu Library & Te Awamutu Museum

19.F Te Awamutu Library Facade

19.G Te Awamutu Little Theatre

19.H Advertising the Next Show

19.I Bow of Te Awamutu Waka

19.J Stern of Te Awamutu Waka

19.K Waka Under Cover in Te Awamutu

13.18 Kawhia: Countryside & Kiwi Cuisine

18.A A Late Autumn Hillside with Sheep below a Ridge of Trees at Mid-Day

Last Saturday, after several days of rain, the skies cleared over the North Island. Jean and I decided we’d drive over to a small town, Kawhia (pronounced ‘Káfeeya’), which is about an hour away from Te Awamutu (TA). Kawhia is on the Tasman Coast and we got there mostly by traveling the ever-sinuous State Route 31.

        Now that we’re in the late autumn, the New Zealand sun is low in the northern sky. Even at mid-day there were long shadows everywhere. The Waikato hillsides were greener than ever, abetted by all the rain we’d just had. But the yellowish hue of the late autumn sunlight probably enhanced the green. As a counterpoint, the sky was a brilliant blue. But as sunny as it was, we wore jackets as protection against the brisk shade and the brisker west wind. If we’d had a frost, we could have called this an ‘Indian summer’ day. It would have been a splendid day to bottle up and bring out in winter.

But winter in Kawhia and in much of New Zealand is nothing like in, say, Canada or Russia. In Kawhia, right along the sea, frosts are unlikely or transient, even in winter. The accompanying photos give you a sense of the rolling countryside between TA and Kawhia. Kawhia, with a population of about 400, has a shabby-looking general store, but otherwise the community is tidy, if humble. In the summer the village serves a considerably expanded population. In and about Kawhia there are many, many cottages any one of which a Kiwi would call a ‘bach’, as in ‘bachelor’. The bach, as the term suggests, was originally an escape for guys who wanted to get out into the 'bush'—the back country—but wanted a roof, not a tent, over their heads. In more recent years the typical bach has become less rustic. No doubt most bachs in Kawhia, for example, have indoor plumbing, a modest kitchenette, and so forth. But what we saw in Kawhia is closer to what used to be the norm rather than what is now fashionable in New Zealand.

At church on Sunday we were asked whether we’d gone to the fish and chips shop in Kawhia. It happened not to have been open. But the village café was. We would travel out to the ocean beach—with its black sand beaches and sand dunes—but before doing so we paused at the café, Jean ordering her customary chai latte and I ordering a berry smoothie. Chai lattes and all kinds of coffee offerings were available even in a small café in this out-of-the-way Kiwi village.

Cafés and coffee houses were an unexpected, customary offering in the Kiwi cultural landscape. Not that I’d given much thought to Kiwi culinary habits before coming to New Zealand. Cafés and coffee houses are to be found all over the country, even out in the country, along the roadside. Cafés can be found in department stores and at bus terminals, at bakeries, and adjacent to factory entrances. I’ve even been at a café in a Christchurch flower shop. Cafés can be quite modest or they can be quite tony, offering not only beverages and meals, but books, kitchen gadgets, and cooking classes.

Cafés typically offer breakfast ('brekkie' in Kiwiese) and lunch selections. The beverage offerings tend to be extensive. The food offerings, typically, are more limited. A dirt-cheap and perhaps suspect lunch offering would be available at NZ$10. More typically a $12 or $15 offering would be regarded as the deal of the day. One goes to a counter, puts in a beverage or food order (or both), takes a number banner to a table, and then first the beverages and then the food will be delivered to your table, usually by someone in their teens or twenties.

Whether ordering in a café or restaurant, we’ve never been disappointed. The food has been invariably fresh and tasty. My one culinary disappointment in New Zealand has been the pies or what Kiwis consider pies. When Kiwis talk about ‘pies’ they are talking about single-serving pies, as opposed to so-called ‘family pies’, which are sliced up and served. Moreover, when Kiwis talk about pies they’re almost always talking about meat pies. Kiwis, after all, adhere to pie-making traditions and expectations that come from Great Britain, which has a tradition of producing meat pies. In some ways meat pies were a kind of fast food long before ‘fast food’ entered the lexicon.

So bakeries and pie shops are to be found across New Zealand purveying meat pies and beverages to the fast food crowd. Cafés purvey such pies. Even New Zealand’s McDonald’s, whose McCafé sections feature sweet pastries, has decided to sell a so-called ‘Georgie Pie’. This meat pie is to be test marketed at an initial 11 locations in New Zealand, including at the McDonald’s in Te Awamutu.  The Georgie Pie is a pie to which McDonald’s acquired the rights when New Zealand's Georgie Pie fast-food chain went defunct in the late 1990s.

Hopefully, the resurrected Georgie Pie will satisfy the palate and fortify the health of Kiwi customers. My one encounter with a commercial Kiwi meat pie wasn’t pleasant. I thought I’d purchased a steak and mushroom pie. Apparently that’s what I was given, but there were no steak chunks or even mushroom pieces under the tasty crust. Instead there was a hot meat slurry, not the robust sort of thing I'd anticipated. When I related my experience to some locals, I was told I’d been given a ‘minced’ pie. But I hadn’t ordered a ‘minced pie’, which I also saw on offer. Whatever happened, I didn't become a fan of the Kiwi meat pie. If the Georgie Pie that McDonald’s purveys is a minced pie, I have to wonder how successful it will be. The minced pie seems so out of character with the robustness of Kiwi cultural preferences.

There are plenty of places offering once-exotic foods now commonly available throughout New Zealand. Even in a small town like Te Awamutu, we have white-tablecloth Indian and Thai restaurants, both good, at least in our one-time visits to each. There is a Turkish kebab place. There are several sushi shops as well as so-called ‘Chinese smorgasbord’ places, which also offer fish and chips. At least two take-out eateries specialize in offering roast dishes, including roast lamb, of course. In TA there are also several pubs, including one called Fahrenheit, that we’ve yet to patronize. And, as I mentioned earlier, there are numerous cafes, the foremost including Churchills, Robert Harris (a national chain), the Central Café, and the Red Kitchen. There are no Starbucks in Te Awamutu but they’re to be found in the largest cities and in tourist magnets like Rotorua and Queenstown.

In all these culinary offerings, is there any one menu item that can be claimed as uniquely Kiwi? Before answering the question, let me get back to pies. No, I’m not obsessed with pies, but I would be derelict were I to neglect mentioning that at least some New Zealand bakeries do sell fruit pies (not ‘family pies’ but individual-serving-sized pies). As it happens, New Zealand’s Supreme Pie Award in 2011 and 2012 was conferred upon Viands, whose main bakery is in Kihikihi, the small town next to Te Awamutu. Viands has a branch in TA, where I occasionally award Jean and myself Viands’ award-winning gingered peach & pear pie or spiced plum, port & apple pie.

Something called the ‘Pavlova’, a fruit-and-cream-topped, round meringue-like cake serves as the one New Zealand culinary creation claimed by Kiwis. Alas, the Pavlova is also claimed by Aussies as having originated in Australia. The dessert is usually topped by kiwifruit, passion fruit, and strawberries, but other fruits can top the cake. If I’m to believe what I've read in Wikipedia, the Kiwis appear to have the better claim to having originated (and embraced) the dish. The best Pavlova I’ve had since arriving in New Zealand was at the Māori feast that Jean and I attended in Rotorua. The Pavlova is served on festive occasions throughout New Zealand and Australia.

The dessert is named in honor of the Russian ballerina, Anna Pavlova, who performed in Australia and New Zealand during a tour in the mid-1920s. Kiwis plausibly claim that a Wellington hotel chef confected the dessert in the ballerina’s honor in 1926. 

As it happens, this coming Sunday afternoon Jean and I plan on attending a performance of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite in Hamilton. The ballet company performing the Nutcracker will be the Moscow Ballet La Classíque. It’s unlikely that any new desserts will ensue from this appearance of the Moscow Ballet. But we’re rather confident that the performance will be top-rate. Russian culture has produced masters and masterpieces of ballet for two centuries. Kiwis still know that. And if you plan on coming to New Zealand, look forward to savoring a Pavlova on a special occasion… and patronizing cafés on any day.

Warm regards,

Tim (& Jean)

PS. Kiwi cuisine will soon be on offer in my hometown of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. A local entrepreneur intends to launch a food-truck business called Drift, which will offer savory pies, ANZAC biscuits (or cookies), and flat whites (a Kiwi coffee specialty), among other Kiwi favorites. This is reported online (3 May 2017) in OnMilwaukee.com.

18.B Hillsides along NZ Route 31

18.C Friesian (Holstein) Cattle at Work along Route 31

18.D A Curve on Route 31 (One of Hundreds)

18.E An Open Stretch on Route 31

18.F Yet Another Curve

18.G A Vista of Kawhia Harbour

18.H Arriving in the Kawhia Business District

18.I Kawhia Museum

18.J Kawhia Waterfront

18.K Kawhia Park Carving

18.L Park Bench

18.M Kawhia Ocean Beach and Fore Dunes

18.N Toetoe Covered Dunes with Mt Karioi in the Distance

18.O Toetoe on a Back Dune