A weekly ode to the joys of moaning about your holiday, by Tim Roxborogh.
"You call some place paradise, kiss it goodbye." It's one of the killer lines in one of the great, lesser-known Eagles songs, The Last Resort (1976). Largely a Don Henley creation, it tells the story - with bleak beauty - of America's insatiable appetite for more, more, more at the expense of our humanity and of the environment.
In a seven-and-a-half-minute epic about people who've "raped the land", of mass housing divisions that resemble "a bunch of ugly boxes" and the reality of there being "no more new frontier", the message is as brutal and true today as it was 40 years ago. I've often thought about the lyrics as a travel writer, especially when you discover somewhere special and some of the residents tell you "Shhhh, don't tell everyone".
Waikato's Blue Spring is a case in point of tourism's double-edged sword. Like a lot of people, I hadn't heard about this remarkable dot in the centre of the North Island until a couple of years ago. While I was writing an article about Lake Karapiro Lodge, the owners encouraged me to drive down the road to Putaruru to see the Blue Spring.
I couldn't believe this place, part of the 4.7km Te Waihou Walkway, had flown under the radar for so long. As I wrote at the time, the combination of the crystalline blue water with the vibrant greens of the plants trailing in the river current, and Waikato' rolling hills as well as fern and pine forest on either side is incredible. I couldn't wait to tap out a story.