# New Zealand



## Lonna (Sep 13, 2003)

Hey all you Tolkien Fans,

My family and I just returned from a month in New Zealand. It really is Middle-earth--the most beautiful place I've ever seen (and the people are friendly too).

The World Premier of "The Return of the King" is December 1. Though it's hard to get into the private bash, visiting Wellington at that time would be wonderful. If any of you get a chance, go. The flight isn't that expensive, and the cost of food & lodging are very reasonable.

Here is something I wrote about it (published in my local newspaper, "The Mountain News"), in case you are interested:

“Little Frodo in New Zealand” 
By Lonna Lisa Williams 
August 15, 2003 

Tomorrow we must leave Lake Taupo. We have spent 2 weeks in the central section of New Zealand’s North Island, exploring the area around its biggest lake, a volcanic crater 500 times larger than Lake Arrowhead and 1200 feet deep. On the south end of the lake rise the three volcanic mountains of Tongariro National Park, the setting for Mordor in Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. From Taupo, we journeyed to both the East and West coasts of New Zealand. We couldn’t have put more miles on our muddy little rental car or driven it on remoter roads. 
The 1st day in Taupo we rested at our timeshare condo on the lakeshore where boats take tourists out for “a spot of trout fishing” (this being the trout capital of the world). The resort’s garden is full of native plants, and the resort guide offers, “If you’re lonesome for your own garden, please pick the odd weed.” 
The 2nd day we shopped in town, exploring stores full of treasures like native wood carved into spiral shapes by Maori craftsmen, who add pieces of paua (abalone shell) to represent bright eyes. We went to a bakery where they cut the loaf you order, and got whole wheat biscuits (cookies) topped with chocolate. We found little cafes which offer minced meat pies and toasted sandwiches--and all types of espresso drinks and pots of tea. We were pleased that our American dollar is stronger than the New Zealand dollar, so the cost of most things seemed a bargain. 
Our next 2 days, we explored the wonders around Taupo. We walked along the steaming mineral springs that flow into the Waikato River, pausing to dip our feet into the clear hot water that bubbles down a waterfall into a pool where hikers bathe. We walked through the thermal area of Craters of the Moon, where active volcanic steam rushes out of the earth in pillars of sulfur. Nothing grows at the hottest parts of these craters, which drop many feet into the earth. The mud along the bottom boils noisily, reminding you to stay on the marked path. Along the edge of these craters, hardy mosses and ferns somehow thrive in the acidic soil. I know some scientists in Lake Arrowhead who would love to explore these geological wonders. 
New Zealand already feels like home, though I never used to know where the country was located. Americans hear much more about Australia, thanks to Crocodile Dundee, “Put a Shrimp on the Barbie” commercials, actor Mel Gibson, a host of Australian movies, and Steve Irwin (the zany Crocodile Hunter). Only when The Lord of the Rings films arrived did Americans begin learning about New Zealand, the perfect setting for J.R.R. Tolkien’s fantasy epics. That’s when I wanted to embark on The Trail of the Ring. So my husband Edd humors me as I dress our son Jonathan (age 8) up like Frodo and take his photo in front of a farmer’s field. 
On Saturday, my daughter Jessica (age 10 3/4) and I went horseback riding through an ancient forest filled with evergreens, big-leaved plants, and ferns. A botanists heaven, there are so many different ferns that they require a separate nature book. Since it is winter, the air felt chilly, it rained a little, and there weren’t many flowers in bloom. But everything looked green and alive--like Middle-earth should be. Jessica felt like Arwin the Elf Princess while she galloped through a clearing, the fresh air in her face as she urged her horse faster. Later that afternoon (while Edd and Jonathan listened to music at our condo), Jes and I went kayaking on the Waikato River. Our guide knew the river well and avoided Huka Falls while showing us the bungie jumpers on cliffs high above. I felt like Galadriel in an graceful Elvish boat, as I let the current guide me. 
The next day, we went to Taupo Baptist Church, the largest church in the area. The people welcomed us with cups of tea and touring information. The worship service reminded me of churches in Lake Arrowhead, with contemporary music, a drama, and a relevant, Biblical message. 
On Monday, Edd decided to check out the East Coast. We drove through forest lands along Highway 5 to Napier, a coastal city that was destroyed by an earthquake in the 1930s and rebuilt in Art Deco style. We walked on a black-pebbled beach which had fierce greenish breakers (no swimming in the winter); drove by the Aquarium; and then headed back toward Hawke’s Bay which is bordered by hilly farmland and vineyards. I got the brilliant idea to return on Route 38 westward, not realizing that the dirt road was narrow and wet. It rose high above remote Lake Waikaremoana where there were no guardrails to keep one from plummeting down steep cliffs. It wound through a jungle, by flooding rivers, and past an occasional cow that strayed into the road. Darkness fell before we reached the paved highway, and Edd swore he would not take another shortcut. 
He broke that rule when we went to the West Coast. At least the road was paved, that wound past woods dotted with the tall, native trees called Totara, that have a silvery trunk. Hilly green farmland was dotted by wooly sheep (there are more sheep in New Zealand than people). We found another huge lake with cliffs towering above it, a little town called Bennydale, and the famous limestone caves of Waitomo where we examined stalactites and stalagmites in one cave and glowworms above an underground river in another. The glowworms lit up the dark rock ceiling with tiny blue lights in their tails, attracting prey to their dangling “feeder lines.” Even Edd was impressed as our boat glided silently beneath the starry sight. 
A high, narrow road led through more sheepland to the little village of Marokopa on the wild Western Coast. Here the tempestuous Tasman Sea separates New Zealand from Australia. We walked on wet black sand, along the banks of a river that flowed to the breaking blue sea, with black lava rocks and limestone cliffs all around us--just as the sun set in a blaze of orange. 
When we drove back, at night, the Silver Fern--emblem of New Zealand--lined the high-banked road. Its underside caught the car’s headlamps in a band of silver light as if to guide us. The Maori people bend the dark green fern so that the silver underside glows in the moonlight, and the fernpoints show the way through the forest. 
As we headed back to Taupo through silent hills, the moon shone full above us. Mars, at its closest point to earth, glowed red beneath the moon. I thought about an English professor of ancient languages who never journeyed to the South Pacific. He imagined an elvish forest with tall trees lit up by silver lights and called it Lothlorian. You can find it in New Zealand. 


I've put photos up on my website. Now the problem is--I want to take the next plane back!


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