We were up early enough, 7-ish, but by the time I'd used all the hot water for my shower (must be a Volcano thing) and started to prepare the ever faithful jam on toast [no butter] the kitchen was a madhouse. Everyone seemed to be up and about doing something: making or eating breakfast (the worthy porridge and fruit eaters looking the most sour faced), doing laundry or, in the case of the manager woman, haranguing everyone about the contents of the fridge, then who they were, then the contents of the fridge again. I spotted a handy poster marking the L.O.T.R. [movie] locations but neither remembered it not nicked it.
We drove over the road (almost literally) to the supermarket -- a whopper by New Zealand standards, Rotorua must be quite a town -- and managed to spend NZ$ 30 on bread, jam, water and some bits (I think it was the bits that did it).
We rushed off in search of the Lady Knox Geyser back at Wai-o-tapu which we found quite easily (it's the [sole] unmarked road in the vicinity) but were half-an-hour early, the only people there. A quick chit-chat with the Wai-o-tapu blokey (van registration YOTAPU) and failed miserably to follow his parking instructions -- it was a big field and he insisted it would be full so we were to park properly, not just abandon the car as I did the first two times. We ambled in to find a lonesome slightly steaming sinter cone (sinter is the build of up limestoney type stuff from volcanic water -- a bit like a stalagmite) and a large amphitheatre of empty seats. But come 10.10 (the thing erupts at 10.15, we're told) the place is packed with two or three hundred people and the bloke from the car park bounces onto the area next to the cone. He shakes a bag of stuff into the cone and the story comes out. The local prison population, employed to plant the local (Kaingaroa?) forext, lacking quality laundry facilities "at home" were wont to use the free hot water nearby. In this instance the application of detergent causes the surface tension of the water to break down which means it falls onto the superheated water below and promptly re-emerges at a rate of knots. Noted by the prisoners by their clothes hurtling into the air. It will naturally erupt on a 24-48 hour cycle but you can't squeeze the tourists in [on time] so they continue to dunk 1.5 kg of soap down daily at 10.15am. The results are a few minutes of increasing amounts of bubbles emerging from the cone followed by a large eruption (15-20m) which dissipates into an hour or so's more leisurely 3-5m eruptions. 
I'd filmed the good bit... Bizarrely, about two thirds of the audience were on their feet about 30 seconds after the first eruption was over. Most of the rest queued to have their photo in front of the geyser, then left.
We popped into the mud pools again to satisfy Helen's desire for plopping and sploshing sounds [she now has an audio link on her page...] before a couple of chases into the wilds for decent views over the terrain ([failed:] too low) or more thermal areas (too expensive).
Off to Hamilton, then, so sort out sending the next batch of films home (Helen has thirty films, I have six tapes [all since Arusha]). We come into Hamilton and I'm confused because the hostel is next to the Gardens and when we pass the Gardens we're miles out of town and the hostel road is in the centre. The quick amongst you will have realised already that perhaps the hostel road was very long and having negotiated the city centre we were due to drive all the way back out again. As we draw up the light rain becomes quite heavy.
We head back into town to locate the key features. We see a teechy sign for FedEx, that'll be it then, thinking back to Arusha. We see a couple of Internet cafes and go and investigate. Hamilton is a big place and seems well sorted. One of the Internet shops is doing an NZ$ 15 all day deal so that's the plan then. We head back and off-load the car -- the rain is getting heavier, I'm sure -- and make our way back to the Internet shop. Our earlier conversation with the desk woman suggested that her English wasn't too good. Listening to others coming in and trying to elicit anything from her suggested that she spoke as much English as I do Japanese.
We did our stuff, Helen getting the job done, me being somewhat slower. Fortunately, when the [on screen] counter hit NZ$ 19 there was another bloke behind the desk who told us [in good English!] to ignore it, it was wrong. We left just before closing time (no Net Club, this) but were only charged NZ$ 7 each. Pretty good for 6 hours work.
Sadly, the only eaterie open at that time of day is Burger King. This one is open 'til 4am somedays which must be a pretty rotten shift. Even on a Thursday evening there's a pretty ugly bunch in. Literally and figuratively. We're eating this because there's nothing else. These guys seems to like it. The youth of today...
J's Backpackers, Hamilton S37.80268
E175.30000 Elev. 121m. 
As we go to sleep the rain has stopped but the wind has picked up and is quite gusty.
Copyright 2002 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.