December 8, 2022

December 8, 2022

We left the sulfur-smelling city of Rotorua heading north. We set the car’s GPS for Hobbiton. One hour later we arrived in the city of Matamata. Even though a sign said Welcome to Hobbiton, I knew I was looking for a rural area. Checking the confirmation email, we reprogrammed the GPS with a street address. Despite the GPS and signage, it was still an adventure to find this countryside farm. The check-in clerk said more people get lost than not.

Despite the misadventure, we are early and we squeeze onto the 9AM tour. We join a busload of tourists who are driven into the center of a very large sheep and cattle farm. The rolling hills are typical of most of New Zealand. For the first Lord of the Rings movie (2000), this picturesque farm valley was transformed into The Shire, home of the hobbits Bilbo and Frodo. Like all film sets, it was built quickly out of materials (e.g. Styrofoam) not meant to last. New Zealand became a destination for Tolkien tourists, so for filming of The Hobbit in 2012, this set was rebuilt permanently. It probably is the most visited LOR site now.

We leave the bus and begin a guided walking tour of the set. There are several dozen hobbit homes built into and around the valley. I am a sucker for film locations; while Aimee pooh-poohed this visit. After her first view, she had a big smile on her face. We both are impressed with the level of detail in every house. I guess that is needed for the panorama shots, and in case an individual location might be needed during shooting. The guide said that, last minute, some noisy frogs had to be fished out of the local pond. That is something we now can relate to.

The tour winds past each of the hobbit holes. We only go in one to see that there is nothing behind. The interior scenes were filmed on a sound set. The homes of Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam are easily recognizable and bring back fond memories.

The tour finishes with a walk across the stone bridge, past the mill into the Green Dragon Pub. There we have a cider and a stout while soaking up the ambiance of this cutely decorated inn. In true hobbit fashion, I suggested we eat Second Breakfast here, but Aimee was afraid I would then want to skip Elevenses, Lunch, and Afternoon Tea. Instead we load on the bus for the short ride back to our car.

From Hobbiton, we continue north only stopping for a quick lunch. In downtown Auckland we stop at the War Memorial Museum. It sits inside an old neoclassical building atop a large city park hill. A Cenotaph monument dedicated to the soldiers of WWI and II sits in front. The Auckland Sky Tower is in the distance.

The museum covers the history of New Zealand but we intend to concentrate on only a few items. After entering we ran into several local Maori dressed in aboriginal clothing. We learn we are just in time to watch a Maori Cultural Performance. This is something we missed in Rotorua. We buy tickets for the performance and we are led to their small theater. It starts with several songs and finishes with the 'Haka', a war dance that includes their characteristic yells with bulging eyes and outstretched tongues. I was disappointed that there is no Maori Hula dance.

We start our museum visit in the natural history area looking specifically for the section on Ratites, or flightless birds. New Zealand at one time had the largest known birds, making ostriches look like chicks. The predator-free environment probably allowed their gargantuan evolutionary growth. Unfortunately when the Maoris arrived, they found them to be easy pickings and soon all became extinct except for the smallest species, the nocturnal Kiwi. I assume they tasted like chicken. The museum has several skeletons and recreations. The hipbone of the Moa, the largest, is above my head. The Moa egg is the size of a football.

My next area of interest is the Maori. The story of the Polynesian diaspora and the populating of the Pacific Islands over unimaginable distances by canoe is a feat that is not easily explained. The first section is large and just covers Maori creation myths. I find it to be silly and a waste of time. We find the real Maori history on the first floor. When James Cook visited in 1769, his Tahitian interpreter could communicate with the Maori, confirming their origin in central Polynesia.

Coming from tropical islands, many of the traditional foods the Maori brought along did not grow well in the colder New Zealand climate and they had to improvise. They found plentiful rivers so there are large displays of elaborate hooks, and various kinds of nets and fish baskets. The Maori learned to utilize New Zealand ‘Flax’ plant fibers for cloth making, especially to weave cold-weather garments. The Maori Flax plant looks like a tropical version of our Agave plant.

The Maori were known to be warlike with persistant internal fighting. Accordingly they lived in fortified villages and were skilled in making wooden Fighting Clubs of all sorts. A very long War Canoe dominates the hall. Their inter-tribal feuds were so strong that when the Europeans arrived, they used the guns they acquired not against the Europeans but against each other. Between disease and internal warfare, few Maori survived. The ones that did married the many whalers and gold seekers looking for wives. It probably didn’t help the bloodline that Polynesian women have a reputation for beauty (As Captain Bligh can attest). Government statistics suggest that maybe 15% of New Zealanders have some Maori blood.

The Maori men also had a strong tradition of full facial tattooing using chisels that left grooves. Women would only tattoo the chin. The Maori would collect the tattooed heads of their enemy as war trophies. The museum has the best collection of fine portraiture from the time of first contact with Europeans exemplifying this tradition.

Like all Stone Age peoples colonized by Industrial Europeans, New Zealand now has a complicated relationship with the descendants of the indigenous. It is an evolving history. Taking a cue from Grievance Politics of the USA, the Maoris are enjoying unprecedented political power which may reshape New Zealand. To the tourist the most obvious result is the resurrection of the Maori language and the move to make it equal to English if not eventually the official language. Maori is now taught in schools and the National Parks have all been changed to a Maori name. Cities are being renamed and New Zealand may become Aotearoa. The signage in the museum is dual with English second. This may assuage some British guilt but it does little to really help the Maori. Better to teach their descendants computers instead of a dead obscure language.

We left the museum intending to eat dinner in the downtown area, but parking is limited and most restaurants won't open for at least another hour. So we punted and drove through heavy traffic to the Auckland Airport where we checked into our hotel. Feeling lazy we had dinner in an adjoining restaurant. It was packed and the food mediocre.