How do you like your Eggs in the morning?

Rotarua is apparently the most visited location in New Zealand. I get that, its a pretty unusual place. What I don’t get is how over 70,000 people can live in a town that constantly, in every nook and crannie reeks of boiled eggs.

We saved taking a look at the geysers for when we return with Jed and Annah in a few weeks but did find plenty of free natural bubbling mud pools and thermal hot pools all over the town. One suburb has people living by the waterside that was constantly bubbling with steam pouring out of all the drain vents along the street.

Underneath the ground, very close to the surface it is geothermal for miles, and so the ground is literally boiling right below your feet. Not a comforting thought at all. When we touched the ground, particularly on tarmac, it was red hot, and the bottom of wooden telegraph poles show signs of being cooked.

We followed a walking route that was recommended in the lonely planet book that took us all over the town, and then on our way up to Tauranga just couldn’t resist the opportunity to have a quick spin in a Zorb. For those of you that haven’t seen them, check them out on google. Essentially giant inflatable balls that you get inside and then they roll you down a steep hill. Sounds quite sedate? Well its not. Zorbing was created by this company outside Rotarua back in 1995, so to have a go at its birthplace was pretty cool. They own the franchise and their most recent partner is about to open up in Jamaica.

They have dry Zorbs and wet ones, where they fill the ball with water and you slosh about like a sock in the wash. It was cold and raining so we selected dry. We both went down backwards and when it begins rolling you think its quite cool and feel a light spinning sensation…but then you gather pace…and begin to bounce A LOT. Every time it pounded the ground I kept thinking I was totally out of control, and for some reason convinced myself that even thought these balls have rolled since 1995, today I would be the only one ever to go too fast and bounce off the track into the road to be smashed about like a ping pong ball by massive logging trucks until I was just mush. Fortunately I was wrong, and everything was fine but I’m honestly not lying when I say that the 20 seconds or so I spent in that bloody giant tadpole was more terrifying than leaping out of a plane.

Nest stop – The bay of plenty.