Sulphur City

I'm in Rotarua and it stinks of eggy death. Which is nice. Geothermal steam seems to be eeking out of the ground all over town. Toxicsteamtastic.

And Fiona's here. She's come to the other side of the world to meet up with me - which is flattering. We've hired ourselves a station wagon (it was automatic, we had to get the cardude to give us a lesson) and have roadtripped down from Auckland, via Fi's Stepnan in Tauranga. Turns out New Zealand Nans feed you biscuits just like British Nans.

We went mountain biking this morning. Turns out Fi's technical, Eurocentric view of biking is a bit different to my South American influenced sensibilities. She spent a fair amount of time grumbling about the responsiveness of the suspension whereas I was singing the virtues of the bike because the saddle wasn't coming off. We went up to some proper mountain biking tracks, surrounded by redwoods and silver ferns, well New Zealand.

Spent the afternoon on the luge, that was nowhere near as sore on my bottom as the bike was.