Now we're white water rafters

Firstly, a few notes on backpacking in New Zealand. There is an entire infrastructure set up for this. Each city and town as multiple hostels (aka backpackers), and the larger ones have dozens of them. They all have kitchens and fridges, so you can eat for cheap. But the rooms are not always heated, and duvets (blankets) are not provided, so a sleeping bag is useful. I’m going to look for one, because I’ve been freezing my arse off.

So on to the day’s activities. Most of us went white water rafting. This particular run was rated grade 5, the highest raftable level, and had a 7 meter (31 ft) waterfall, apparently the world’s highest commercially raftable. We suited up in wetsuits and helmets again, and set off. It was a rush, but I don’t think the waterfall was 7 meters. Maybe 5 or 6. Afterwards, three of us went skydiving (not me).

Tonight was a special occasion, because it was our last day with Dave, our Kiwi driver, since everybody will be getting off the bus at Taupo tomorrow. It was also Dave the Aussie’s 33rd birthday, so the plan was to go and get wankered, pissed, drunk, or whatever you want to call it. When you go out as a backpacker you take a shower, comb you hair, and put on the same clothes you’ve been wearing all week. We went to the Holy Cow, an infamous backpackers bar, which turned out to be dead. It was fun for awhile, until I had to start fighting off the advances an overy affectionate drunken Kiwi guy.