A Chubber in Middle-Earth: An Unexpected Party

I suppose I have been interested in visiting New Zealand for quite a while. It drew me with the same things that would capture the attention of anyone - spectacular scenery from The Lord of the Rings, interesting accents, world-class Timbersports, fascinating and uniquely biodiverse ecosystems evolved in isolation over millions of years, passionate rugby, deep culture, fluffy sheep . . . I had the chance to make this dream a reality earlier this year, when Dr. Dean Meason (Dean the Kiwi), a former graduate student of my father’s, mentioned that the project he was working on at Scion (formerly New Zealand Forest Research Institute) was looking to hire a field and lab technician. This was an opportunity both to expand my experience working in another aspect of forest ecology research, and to explore this fascinating country I might not have a chance to visit again. Dean pointed out to me that I was eligible for New Zealand’s Working Holiday Visa Scheme, where as a young American I could easily be allowed to come to New Zealand and pick up temporary employment to cover the cost of traveling around the country for up to a year. Sure enough, when I filled out and submitted the application this Summer, my application fee was waved and my visa was approved in about three days. The plane tickets were a pretty penny, but soon I was set and committed to six months in Aotearoa, the Land of the Long White Cloud.

After a long flight, although New Zealand Air is much more luxurious than United (it gives you meals and seatback entertainment [including all of the Lord of the Rings movies]), I landed in Auckland. I had time before my connection, so I decided to walk the 650 meters over to the domestic terminal rather than wait for the shuttle. After following the green line for what seems like several kilometers and a doubling of my duffel’s weight, I came to another sign cheerfully informing me I had only 650 meters to go. What. Eventually I made it though, and I was surprised how small the domestic terminal in the airport of New Zealand’s largest city was. The plane down to Rotorua was small enough that I had to check my carry-on as well, and we walked across the tarmac and up a rolling staircase to board the plane. It was raining in Rotorua as we landed, but coming from Hilo I was unfazed. Taking a taxi into town gave me my first real taste of driving on the left, which I am still working to get used to.

Rotorua has a climate closest to San Francisco, but even that doesn’t quite fit. I arrived in Spring, there is still a chill in the air many days and I am glad that I have wool layers. Along with the tree-ferns and the pervasive smell of sulphur from geothermal activity it often reminds me of Volcano Village. The city itself is similar to Hilo, with a downtown district, about 10 minutes away from my house by bike, touching the shore of Lake Rotorua. I found five different bike shops in close proximity, and got a Giant Talon 4 for the duration of my stay here. There is an extensive trails network in the forest just a few blocks over, and plenty of more riding opportunities fairly close as well. Things are generally a bit more expensive, and I have not been able to find any size 15 trail-runners, but there are also some great little hole-in-the-wall bookshops. Definitely at times it feels far away and alien, but then I’ll see Starbucks, or hear Kiwi covers of ‘Our Song’ or ‘Shut Up and Dance’ over the store radio, and I am reminded that it really isn’t that foreign after all.

Stay tuned for further adventures as I start work, visit Hobbiton, go mountain biking, and countless more explorations of Kiwiland. Thanks for coming along; shoot me a blitz, I’d love to hear from you!