With Six60 blasting in the background, Jhoné, my road trip buddy, and I started our drive towards Mount Maunganui. With eyes heavy from rising before the sun, I tightly held on to the warm, large Maccas, as they call it down there, coffee and Krispy Kreme bites that I got from our first gas stop, hoping that consuming this mountain of sugar and caffeine would compensate for my disrupted four hours of sleep. It did not. It was roughly an hour after sunrise when we left the blocks and hectic morning traffic of Auckland for the blossoming colors of spring and sights of grazing cattle along the thinning motorway of the south.
True to New Zealand fashion, the weather refused to commit to a single scene. The moody atmosphere brought on by a ceiling of dark, dense rain clouds made me glad I was not driving; otherwise, we would have taken a nap then and there. Luckily, the four seasons in a day turned out to be four seasons in four hours because the rhythmic downpour that swept in every so often eventually gave in to the gentle hold of a cool, sunny day.
Vibrant spring trees and shrubs in Taupō’s lakeside town.
Our route from Auckland to The Mount was more than just a scenic drive through some of North Island’s most iconic spots; it also traced one of the most active volcanic networks on Earth – the Taupō Volcanic Zone. Underneath the serenity of the roadside scene, a highly active and unpredictable supervolcano system lies, which has historically held the highest Volcanic Explosivity Index rating of VEI-8. In other words, it could easily reset an entire landmass and alter the global climate. This inevitable and massive power, however, is being redirected to productive use. Numerous geothermal power plants are situated in the area, and the energy generated here accounts for approximately 20% of New Zealand’s electricity supply – second only to hydroelectricity, which provides around 57%.
For the engineer in me, this road trip was like driving across a vast, open-air thermodynamic reactor where high subsurface thermal gradients continuously conduct raw heat to the surface, yielding massive transformable energy for geothermal grids. On the other hand, for the average non-Kiwi, non-engineer side of me, it was like being told that the whole island could collapse any minute, where I could end up swimming in a large pot of boiling lava instead of the crisp blue waters of Pilot Bay. I thought coming here would just be lazy beach days and quick mid-afternoon hikes under Aotearoa’s long white clouds – not getting dragged into a subterranean furnace by some pervasive force.
Tauranga’s dramatic coastline as seen from the peak of Mount Maunganui.
However, as a person easily pacified by a pretty view, any existential dread and uncertainty instantly dissolved into the horizon the moment the cosmopolitan landscape of Auckland wilted away and was replaced by the vibrant canopy of the awakened trees of spring, where the understated beauty for which New Zealand is known slowly presented itself.
First Stop: Finding Solace in the Volcanic Caldera of Taupō
It was around 11 am when we reached Taupō. Instead of going straight to town, a thick white cloud seemingly venting straight from the ground pulled us in. After driving through a sweeping web of long, twisted silver pipes and the occasional zero-visibility road, we found ourselves on the vantage point of Wairākei Geothermal Power Station. Seeing something I’d only learned about in textbooks was such a surreal and validating experience. After a few minutes of “I kinda wanna work here.” and “Do you think we can have a tour on the grounds?”, we returned to the main road and headed to our home for the night.
All that uncontained excitement and passion slowly settled the more we drove towards Taupō’s lakeside town. The environs of evergreens guiding us forward a shifting gradient of blue elicited a sense of tranquil escapism that only the quiet stillness of Lake Taupō could have offered.
The tranquil Lake Taupō from the shoreline.
After leaving our bags and before we could allow ourselves to fully embrace the serenity around us, we hit the road once again. The heavy, ice-blue water of Huka Falls, raging through the narrow gorge of the Waikato River, produced a thunderous sound that was heard all the way to the scarcely occupied parking lot. Its movements were so intense that it was difficult to reconcile this excitable frothy stream with the gentle ripples of Lake Taupō. We spent a few moments on the shallow gorge, reveling in the view and embracing the surprisingly calming loudness of the falls before taking the long way back to our car.
The powerful torrent of Huka Falls draining out from Lake Taupō.
Waking up to the cool air’s light embrace and the sun’s warm rays, I felt the rolling landscape breathe a layer of charm to the town's quaint atmosphere. New Zealand weather may be unpredictable and kind of crazy, but when it is good – it is really good.
The juxtaposition of Lake Taupō having calm waters that fold in accordance with the gusts of wind and being an incredibly active supervolcano that could wipe the entire place in a second is a wild paradox to reckon with. But I guess that’s the bargain you get for housing one of the most breathtaking geological scars and volcanic fault lines on Earth.
The world’s coolest McDonald’s is in Taupō – a refurbished DC-3 airplane.
After an “Abracadabra” morning walk by the lake (Lady Gaga’s “Abracadabra” was literally blasting in the background)and a hearty Kiwi breakfast at Dixie Browns, we continued our journey towards Rotorua.
Second Stop: A Quick Detour Toward the Towering Carbon Sinks of Rotorua
They say nothing is more memorable than a scent – and Rotorua took that seriously.
Sometimes referred to as Sulfur City, you know you’ve arrived when your olfactory senses suddenly get hit by the harsh, pungent, and unpleasant odor of what seemed to be rotten food and burnt wood mashed together. It’s a forgivable smell, but it definitely announces itself dramatically in a place where crisp and seemingly filtered air is the norm.
Deep within the soaring Whakarewarewa Forest, known simply as “The Redwoods”.
Rotorua is known not only as the heart of Māori culture but also for being home to some of the most relaxing mineral spas in the world. Unfortunately, our tight itinerary meant we couldn’t experience either. We did, however, step into the towering carbon-sinks of Whakarewarewa Forest, where the sharp smell of sulfur was swiftly dominated by the sweet, earthy scent of decaying bark and the damp, rust-colored carpet of fallen needles. Wandering deeper into the forest, the air was noticeably cooler, damper, and earthier. It was as if the forest floor were a giant fragrance bottle where every step released a mist of that complex, layered forest aroma.
Standing amongst the towering trees of Whakarewarewa Forest.
A few moments later, the road gently pulled us back from the shadowed gravity of the woods. The drive out of Rotorua towards Tauranga gradually transitioned into the increasingly urban view of the harborside city – a scene I was not expecting after being spoiled by the untamed beauty of the open road.
Last Stop: A Nightcap at the Township of Tauranga
From a night’s stay in the volcanic basin of Taupō and a brief detour through the winding geothermal fault lines and vents of Rotorua, we finally reached Tauranga, where the volcanic dome of Mauao stood at the end of a tombolo.
On our arrival, bright golden tones gradually conquered the landscape as twilight began to set in. The day may have ended, but the night was still young. So we headed to town and enjoyed the buzz of the local spots, where any lingering travel fatigue dissolved over great food (the lamb we had for dinner was amazing), music, and drinks.
Bright gradients of orange blanketed Pilot Bay as the sun begins to set.
The Climb: Caught by the Dawn
A cool breeze from an open window woke me from my slumber seven minutes before my alarm was due. It was still dark when I peeked outside, so I allowed myself to be pulled back into the sheets for a few more minutes. However, leaving the bed had disrupted the blanket of warmth I had once been wrapped in, and the light, cool breeze from earlier seemed to have crowded the room with its ice-cold presence. I knew I had to get up when the tropical Filipino blood rushing through my veins started begging for some warmth.
After the most satisfying hot shower, I lathered a thick layer of lotion to shield my skin from the drying conditions of the coast. Armed with a heavy green jacket, black hiking pants, and soft Nike shoes that were probably not made for hiking, I met Jhoné by the door. Guided by our phone flashlights, we approached the dark silhouette of the towering Mount Maunganui.
A few hikers sharing a moment of silence at the summit viewing deck as the sun rises over the Pacific.
A few meters from the base, we spotted some people warming up – and just before we could say “hi”, they suddenly sprinted ahead. Your girls are not built like that, so we continued our leisurely pace on our ascent. Halfway through the hike, we saw the very same people going down – this time we exchanged pleasantries. I am a relatively active person; however, I am nowhere near as active as the Kiwis here, so it took us about 40 minutes to reach the summit. At 232 meters above sea level, the path upward was steep and a bit rugged with exposed roots, loose dirt, and uneven stairs. However, despite the erratic terrain, it was still a pretty chill hike up all in all.
The central pounamu touchstone on the star compass (Kāpehu Whetū), marking the peak of Mount Maunganui.
The view from the top was just spectacular. It looked so open, so free. By this time, the sun was already breaking through the horizon, splashing a gold radiance across the peak, where the sprawling greens looked more alive and vibrant than ever and the vast expanse of the Pacific settled into a stunning porcelain blue. At this moment, anchored by the Māori lore, we were Mauao – caught by the dawn.
Green slopes giving way to a view of the shoreline on the climb up.
Comforted by the steady breeze of the cool, crisp air and the warmth of the rising sun, we found a safe space at the summit to fully surrender to the stillness around us. It became a quiet refuge where we could allow ourselves to let go. With a flight that was leaving the next day, this road trip was the perfect conclusion to my journey here and a timeless reminder of the essence of New Zealand – raw, breathtaking, and free.
