Que hora es?

For anyone who has taken a basic Spanish class, one of he first things they teach you is to ask what time is it. Que hora es? 

The general purpose word for Maori people- their hello, goodbye and everything else word sounds like a part of that. It sounds like que hora. I learned that today when we were repeatedly greeted with that series of syllables. I had to fight the urge to reply with the current time. 

We flew this morning from Queenstown to Christchurch, then on to Rotorua. Rather hilariously, we got off the plane in Christchurch, walked into the terminal and came back out to board the very same plane. Cas and I were even on the same row- we just took a lap in the terminal so we could move from the left side of the aircraft to the right side. 

When we got to Rotorua, it was a quick baggage claim, a lightning fast lunch and a trip to check out their geysers. We were a little behind schedule from the airport, so we joined a tour halfway trough. Behold, a geyser... Geyser-ing: 

We left there and headed for the hotel. Cas and I were going to stop by the room and determine if we wanted to go to a botanical garden, a museum or the public baths that claim to have restorative value. We ended up taking a nap. Probably, a very necessary nap, and certainly restorative in its own right. 

In the evening, we went to a Maori village for a hangi feast. We started off on a bus driven by a Maori woman who was very entertaining. I kept fighting the urge to tell her what time it was. 

When we arrived, we were ceremonially welcomed to the village, then escorted through s series of huts where some of the tribal people shared different parts of their culture with us. 

After that, there was a song and dance style show, then a big feast. They do something similar to a luau I saw when I was younger- the meat is cooked in a pit, wrapped up, of course, and covered with dirt. 

It was all quite delicious, and it took a petty big part of the day to see, watch and eat everything. 

Oh, and we made new friends:

 

On the way back, our bus driver had people singing. She wanted songs from our home countries and lots of participation as we made our way back to the hotel, but when we got to a traffic round-a-bout, she started up a chorus of She'll be comin' round the mountain. She also went around the traffic circle several times- really well into the "driving six white horses" verse. Everyone on the bus was laughing by the time she got on the correct road. 

We leave Rotorua tomorrow for Auckland, which is where the majority of our traveling friends will say goodbye and head back to the US. We're just four days away from our wedding in Fiji, actually. Can you tell I'm excited?