Christmas in Taupo

In the middle of the high season in 2012, New Zealand is pretty empty. You practically never have to pre-book hostels, they are rarely full. Instead, they treat themselves to masses of globetrotting day labourers. The work that once made a travel slave rotate is now comfortably shared by four young travellers. Some hostels accommodate more helpers than paying guests. The towns are also deserted, restaurants and pubs deserted.

There seem to be only two types of traveller left. One type takes an indefinite break after school before starting work, lasting a year or more. The other type arrives at the hostel late on Christmas Eve, then spends 3 hours organising the equipment worthy of a Mars expedition in the room and climbs Tongariro the next morning after 4 hours of sleep.

Both guys are kind of scary to me. I confess that I myself have incredible problems finding the right travelling speed. I often race blindly through the area, only to realise days later, completely exhausted, that I haven’t really seen anything despite ticking off all the important points. I felt the same way the other day when I took a closer look at a picture of a delphinium in the rain on my laptop. Wow, the camera has a powerful zoom! Is there such a thing as the right travelling speed? Or is the timely change of speed the only solution?

In Rotorua, a Czech couple lay in bed next to us for three days. Well, I mean, they had two beds, but they always lay together in one, all night and almost all day. They weren’t exhibitionists and their behaviour was really exemplary. Apart from the fact that they watched one film after another day and night and talked quite loudly. Skype was constantly chirping and they spent hours on the phone with their families at home. Oh you dear travellers! Wouldn’t the couch at home have been a better safari after all?

There is a lounge in front of the room. Even I, as a web designer, self-confessed nerd and highly socially incompetent solitaire, have to lament this sad sight. A dozen silent travellers from all over the world are sitting there. Their eyes reflect LCD screens, not experiences. Instead of travelling and experiencing the world, they are chatting on their iPhones, complaining about not having access to the pictures Mandy has just posted about them on Facebook and watching videos about extreme leisure activities to be undertaken as soon as possible. In contrast, my blog session every two to four days is pure digital communication celibacy. Honestly, as much as I love my job and all the opportunities to work around the world: I’ve never enjoyed time off as much as I have on this trip.

We continue on to Taupo. The wind forecast is good. It’s coming as usual. No forecast is right. The wind is much weaker, and the only kiteable beach for miles around is probably the only crowded mile of the last two weeks. Use the time to do some shopping for the holidays. The supermarkets are fuller and tighter than any Ikea on a rainy Saturday afternoon at home. Food in the hostel and travelling. There’s steam everywhere in the Craters of the moon. After the sun has been shining brightly all day, it’s now starting to pour. We are too wet and cold even for the hot pools that are still open.

At YHA Taupo, all the travellers cook their Christmas menu. Japanese mung bean salad, Switzerland gives us garlic baguettes. Taiwan throws a stuffed chicken into the round and we cheekily show off with home-made hamburgers from the grill. England donates good wine, everyone shares with everyone else. The sun sets blood red behind the Tongariro. I wish you all an equally wonderful Christmas at home and all over the world!