A Christmas Exile

The weather is outside is… well, considering it's December it's pretty balmy but then I'm in Dubai. This time last year I was home in Ireland (for the first Christmas in 7 years), the year before in Chiang Mai, the year before that Oman… and so on. When you choose an expat/nomadic/travelling life you may consider that Christmas may be spent somewhere else and that maybe it will be a novelty. If you're an expat maybe you've committed to the chaotic challenge of the trek home for the holidays, with thousands of other harried travellers facing queues, delays and arm-breaking bags full of duty-free alcohol.

I've grown accustomed to being away this time of year because although I enjoy travelling, I would rather not set foot in an airport between December 12th and January 5th. I have been repeatedly proven right that what can go wrong will go wrong with travel during these dates… in 2013 I couldn't get OUT of Thailand because even the slow boat down the Mekong was booked up, last year in the early days of January, I experienced 36 hour delays (and horrible attitudes) by Qatar Airways when there was some morning fog in Dubai, and a friend had someone throw up in her hair onboard a flight five years ago during the season… Merry for everyone but her!

I remember my first year in Dubai, presents had to be arranged so far in advance and a lovely cabin crew friend posted them from London for me (at the time there were no direct flights to Dublin), now we have numerous online sites to make that easy. I used to use a prepaid card to call home from a landline, which also meant they had to be home. Now, I can call my family for free, without even a telephone connection. In 2004, I had Christmas dinner in the Dubliners pub in Garhoud with my co-workers before I worked the evening shift serving everyone else theirs at the Irish Village. Things have certainly become easier but Christmas is still about family. I'm lucky that my extended family are spread across the world and grateful each year that cousins, aunts and uncles have invited me into their home to celebrate over the past few years and this year I got to celebrate with a new arrival in my cousins room after seeing my godson on Christmas eve and again on Christmas night. Family comes in many guises; it doesn't mean I miss Mom, Dad and Nickki any less.

It also means I get to learn about and sometime share in other traditions; most Europeans celebrate on Christmas eve, rather than Christmas Day, and it seems that my family have always unknowingly prescribed to this too - we've always had a family dinner and opened presents on Christmas eve, whereas most Irish people are having drinks in their local that night. I lived with a Swedish friend who explained that it was more traditional to have a selection of seafood rather than turkey, ham and stuffing. Even within my country, there were differences: whilst I lived in Kerry, I grew familiar with the tradition of Wren Boys, which I hadn't known growing up in Dublin. Whereas I always seemed to be in some form of transport on St. Stephen's Day (known as Boxing Day to the UK or 26th December) so I could head out to party that night, this year it was all about playing games in my PJ's. In 2013 on the 26th, I was visiting a renowned mountain temple in Thailand. I love the variety that my life and exposure to other cultures brings.

I have no idea where Christmas in 2016 will be spent, hopefully somewhere new and interesting and the idea of still being away is fine with me. I am perfectly content with my nomadic/expat life and as long as it keeps bringing surprises and adventures and often detours from the norm, then I will embrace every second. I hope you all had a wonderful festive season and all the best for 2016.

Rotorua - Not just a place with an unusual odour ....

Yes, when stepping off the bus in Rotorua, the first thing you will notice is the sulphuric scent on the air. It's a little startling at first and although you won't quite get used to it (well, certainly not in a day - the length I spent there), it's not terribly unpleasant. It's unusual, but the geothermal hotbed that causes the smell is definitely something to explore.

Rotorua is classed as a city, but I would call it a town. I found it rather quaint, set beside the lake of the same name with low-rise buildings. We were dropped off outside the local iSite, NZ tourist offices. The staff were super helpful and stored my backpack for the day for a small fee (It closes at 7pm though and my bus was at 11.15pm). After getting some info, I headed out to Te Puia, a Maori Cultural Park not far from town. I managed to get a bus just around the corner from the iSite and I was at the centre in less than twenty minutes.

Once more, the friendliness of the Kiwi people was displayed by the woman selling tickets. She asked me lots of questions about travelling solo as a woman and she said I was very brave. Then, she gave me half price tickets to the Maori concert which takes place a couple of times daily!

I decided to have a wander around myself first before taking a guided tour. One of the most important things about Te Puia is that it's a place of learning and preservation. Customs of the Maori tribe are in use and taught to Maori students from tribes across New Zealand from weaving to stone carving. Thus, all the carvings onsite are truly Maori and faithful to time-honoured tradition.

During the first part of the tour we were brought up to see the famous Pohutu geyser. This was truly a sight to behold: going off approximately every hour and lasting for upto twenty minutes, this is the largest active geyser in the Southern Hemisphere and it certainly gets your attention. I was mesmerised by it. A natural wonder of the world. The photograph doesn't do justice to how it dwarfs you and the heat can be felt from 10 metres away!

There's quite a lot of geothermal activity here, covering 60 hectares, with over 500 geothermal spots. Even on a cold day, I can't imagine you'd feel it here; there's steam rising from everywhere!

After an hour or so of exploring the geothermal landscape and marvelling at hot springs (that are far too hot to bathe in), we returned to Te aronui a rua, the meeting house where the concert would take place.

A woman came out to greet us, with the typical "Kia Ora!" and advised us on the etiquette of the show we were about to witness and be a part of. A man in the audience was chosen as chief, and we all approached the house behind him, as is customary.

They took us through songs and stories, displaying dances and the infamous haka (with some volunteers from the audience!). Some of the strapping young Maori men weren't hard on the eye either! It was great show and well worth the price of the ticket. I'd be really interested in going to the night time show if I ever return.

The Haka

After visiting the word carving and weaving workshops, I took my last wander around the landscape part of the park and headed back into town. I was very lucky to be picked up by French and German girls who had a car rented for the day and who I'd spoken briefly to at Te Puia.

I grabbed some fish and chips for NZ$12 at a quiet cafe on the main street, about two blocks from the iSite, although I can't remember it's name. It was also conveniently close to my next port of call, The Polynesian Spa. I got an unlimited pass for the Adult Pools for NZ$25 and headed in to bathe myself softer than a furry blanket. It's truly blissful in there with a variety of pools to choose from and temperatures ranging from 37 deg Celsius right upto 42 deg. I didn't stay in that one too long!

The Priest Pools, with the lake in the background

My favourite pool was the Priest Spa pool right by the lake, so birds were flying by and providing a chorus as the sun went down. It was a real treat to bathe in the hot spring waters and wonderful to ease the muscles after a few bus rides.

After touring the seven pools a few times, I decided to grab a snack and head upto the iSite to wait for my bus. Rotorua is absolutely deserted at night so there was nowhere to wait and I didn't see a bar nearby where I could have chilled for an hour before the overnight bus to Wellington arrived. Thus I was a very weary traveller boarding for my long journey (8 hours) to my next stop.