The Slow Train to Rivendale
Our Trip to New Zealand, Part Two
This post picks up where the previous post on New Zealand left off.
After a couple days in Wellington, we woke up early Sunday morning to catch our train north. The Northern Explorer was set to depart from the charming Wellington Station just before 8 am, and we were to be on the train until around 4 pm, when it was scheduled to arrive in Hamilton. We were looking forward to a day of reading and watching the Kiwi landscape pass us by.
The train was lovely. Not a luxury train, by any stretch. The Orient Express it was not. But it was spacious with large picture windows that curved into the ceiling, allowing light and the gorgeous countryside to spill into the cabin. The entire train had only four carriages after the engine: two passenger cars, a café car, and a final open-air, standing-room-only carriage where you could see the landscape without obstruction. The café car had a selection of meals for breakfast and lunch that were neither great nor inedible. And there was an espresso machine for hot coffee drinks, along with a ready supply of New Zealand wines for later in the day. Perhaps our favorite part of the train ride was the audio commentary that accompanied it. Each seat had a headphone jack so you could listen to explanations and stories about the towns and scenery passing by outside.
What was most remarkable about this journey was watching the constant transformation of the landscape. Minutes after departing, we chugged by a glorious sunrise glimmered over a sweeping bay outside Wellington. Thirty minutes later, we were surrounded by wind-swept fields of wheat, then rolling green hills, then rocky canyons, then snow-capped mountains. It was like crossing all the geographical and geological territories of the United States in just a few hours. It was mesmerizing. The most dramatic moments came when the train crossed over one of several century-old viaducts that traversed the canyons and valleys. At these moments, it felt as though the train had suddenly taken flight. The tracks seemed to disappear as the train flew through the air, the ground hundreds of feet below us. Traveling by train may not be the quickest mode of travel, but what it lacks in efficiency, it more than makes up for in romance.
The train went all the way to Auckland, but we got off a couple stops before then in Hamilton, as Tibi and I had booked a three-night stay at the Treetops Lodge & Estate in Rotorua. We would normally never be able to stay in a place like this, but we benefited from a recent policy change by Hotels.com, the site where we always booked our hotels while traveling. For years, the site had the most amazing rewards scheme. For every ten nights you booked with them, you got a credit for one free hotel night worth the average value of those ten nights. (In the beginning, there were no restrictions on the value of the one free night—so you could literally stay in a Motel 6 for ten nights, then spend your free night for a room at the Ritz Carlton. But they quickly learned that this was a big problem for them and changed it so the free night was an average of what you spent.) Through this free night policy, Tibi and I had accrued something in the neighborhood of 20 free nights, each with a value of around $200. Then, Hotels.com decided to change its policy again to one that was far less favorable. Now they award something called OneKey Cash, which is a credit with a cash value that can be applied to any reservation. But the amount of OneKey Cash you receive is only around 1% of the value of the reservation, so it’s nowhere near as awesome as the buy 10, get 1 free policy that preceded it.
BUT! As they switched to this new model, they didn’t want previous customers to lose the free nights they had accrued, so they converted them into the cash value in OneKey Cash. This meant that, from one day to the next, Tibi and I went from having 20 free nights in $200 hotels to having over $4,000 in credit to spend however we wanted. Admittedly, most people probably would have spread that $4,000 out over many, average-priced hotels. Tibi and I, however, decided to spend the whole thing on three nights at the Treetops Lodge, a five-star hotel where we would never be able to stay otherwise.
The lodge was a two-hour drive from Hamilton, so we hired a chatty driver recommended by the lodge to drive us there. When we arrived, it was already dark out. We pulled off the main road onto the entryway to the lodge. What we thought would be a short driveway turned out to be a windy, miles-long access road the cut through the dense jungle. Silver fern trees surrounded us, and the glow from the headlights reflected off the fern leaves. Apparently, the Maori would use this glow as a wayfinding tool in the dark nights. Similarly, the shiny ferns pointed us onward to the lodge.
Finally, we reached the lodge itself, and were immediately thrilled to see that it was even better than the pictures. The central lodge building looked like the one from Jurassic Park. To enter, we crossed a rustic, wooden bridge built over a moat lined with ferns and filled with prehistoric lily pads. The mammoth doors of the lodge opened as if by magic, and we were greeted with two champagne glasses by a cheerful English lad and a friendly Chilean man.
The Chilean man was the chef and manager, and he quickly handed us off to his much younger colleague. The young man—for the life of me, we can’t remember his name, even though he was the most wonderful guy, so let’s just call him Will—was from northern England, and he, along with his young wife—we’ll call her Kate—were also taking advantage of the working visa program. They had been at Treetops for the past three months, and this would be their last week before moving on to another gig bagging pine trees on the south island to prevent them from pollinating. (I had no idea that was a thing.) Will had a terrible haircut, but a winning, crooked smile, and he showed us around the beautiful lodge, including the main salon complete with a massive stone fireplace, the library, the billiards room, the dining room, and the conservatory. (It was like we were in a game of Clue.) He told us that everyday at 6 pm we were invited to the main salon for cocktails and canapés. Then, at 7 pm, we would be invited into the dining room for a four-course meal cooked just for us. We were in heaven!
It was almost 6, so Will offered to take us to the villa (yes, villa!) where we would be staying. He packed us and our luggage into a large van and drove us through the jungle to our own private stone house, built on a cliff that overlooked a lake below. The villa came equipped with its own golf cart, which we could use to get around the property and back to the lodge. We had a large living room with a fireplace, a beautiful bedroom, a huge bathroom with soaking tub, and a big terrace overlooking the lake below.
We quickly got settled, then drove our golf cart back to the lodge for cocktail hour. When we arrived, we met a middle-aged couple from England who were also staying at the place, but Will told us that they would be leaving the next morning. Then, three days later, Treetops would be closing down for the season. As a result, we would be the last guests before they closed…and we would have the place entirely to ourselves. Things just kept getting better.
To be continued…
THE CLIFFHANGER OMG