Waikato's Blue Springs - where litres of crystalline blue-green water flow over clumps of iridescent underwater grass. Photo / 123RF
Waikato's Blue Springs - where litres of crystalline blue-green water flow over clumps of iridescent underwater grass. Photo / 123RF
The theme was water - bleak at Pūkorokoro, thermal in Te Aroha and Okoroire and crystal at Te Waihou.
The other theme was personal. One of us was thinking of leaving a long term relationship, the other was thinking of starting one. Either way, we were too old for thiss**t.
The two of us had been observers of each other's lives since forever. We had blathered endlessly, and for the most part, pointlessly, through every life-changing drama. Our long and, ever-so-slightly, repetitive commentary rarely altered the inevitable but it made us feel better.
I picked up my friend from the airport and drove us to the hazy Hauraki Coast where the air is thin and low shell-topped mudflats are lapped by the waveless sea. We've stayed at Pūkorokoro Miranda Shorebird Centre before and despite never arriving at high tide in time for a decent viewing of shorebirds, we still love it. Staying there feels like being on a small ship at the end of the world skippered by the drollest of captains.
Pied Oyster-catchers taking flight over some Royal Spoonbills in Miranda, New Zealand. Photo / Getty Images
"Welcome," said manager Keith Woodley. "I've kept the Whimbrel suite for you both."
"Perfect," I said.
"Oh, I think we could find some flaws if we really looked."
Not the weather. You couldn't fault the weather. The sun was out, the reliably blustery wind was in and the liminal landscape looked burnished and beautiful in an alien restrained way.
We waved farewell to Keith with nowhere far to go but somewhere special to be. Te Aroha-a-uta aka Te Aroha. Lovely name, lovely town. Love flowing inland is the full translation. Love flowing to the nation's most intact Edwardian spa set against the bush-clad backdrop of Mt Te Aroha. Love too for the thermal and mineral waters and the world's only hot soda water geyser - whatever that is.
There's something forgotten and timeless about Te Aroha, also eerily mystical watching steam from the Mokena Hou Geyser wreathe the domain while sun burned off heavy dew from mowed lawns doubling as croquet fields and skating rinks.
Before Rotorua there was Te Aroha. Rotorua is flashier but Te Aroha's mineral spas built on the site of the original number one bath house are more elegant. The spas were doing a roaring trade when we arrived to spend an hour soaking in a private wooden barrel. My friend wore a swimming costume. Therein lay her problem. Well, one of them.
The drive around the back roads of this part of the Waikato was surprisingly sweet. Storming through the area on main highways in the past, all I ever saw were cows, milk plants and speeding tankers. This time we moseyed down narrow scruffy roads lined with skeletal trees and the occasional explosion of a huge crimson magnolia until we reached the fabulous Okoroire Hot Springs Hotel.
Okoroire Hot Springs Hotel, Waikato. Photo / Supplied
The hotel has seen grander days, when it was the venue of choice for newlyweds like Rob and Thea Muldoon as well as golfers and trout fishers. Now it was hosting us and a bunch of other boomers noodling around the country in their spare time. By the time we'd soaked in the hotel's three outdoor thermal pools bordering the rushing Waihou River and eaten dinner and breakfast together in the hotel restaurant, we just about knew everyone there and some of their stories and they knew the gist of ours. Such adventurers, such great lives - it's so easy to dismiss people who look as old as you, forgetting no one comes through life unscathed and most have got at least one brilliant story, usually more.
All the while we'd never been far from the Waihou River. Earlier that day we'd walked beside its most miraculous iteration - the Blue Springs - where litres of crystalline blue-green water flowed over clumps of iridescent underwater grass. Apparently, the colour is proof of purity since it lacks light absorbing constituents and particles. Whatever, the effect was altogether dreamy and unreal.
Walking beside the Blue Springs in Waikato, where litres of crystalline blue-green water flow over clumps of iridescent underwater grass. Photo / Supplied
But reality was never far away, beckoning us back to our inconvenient complicated lives. We delayed re-entry slightly by stopping to buy and devour Mercer cheese alongside the Waikato River before I delivered my friend back to the airport.
This break had only ever been a blessed interlude. Nothing had been solved. Nothing much even decided. But it was okay. We felt better about going forward. More importantly, we knew there would be another time.
CHECKLIST: WAIKATO
DETAILS For more things to see and do in the region, go to waikatonz.com
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