The first thing we do on arriving in Taupō is throw our teenage son off a cliff.
A small platform stands high above the turquoise currents of the Waikato River. Soaring cliffs frame the river and provide a scenic backdrop for adrenaline. And there’s plenty of adrenaline to be had. Gus, our 13-year-old, was cocky and cavalier about the idea of leaping of the 47-metre-high Taupō Bungy platform – the tallest clifftop bungy in New Zealand – until he saw it. Then the nerves kicked in.
Taking the leap at Taupō Bungy.
Aggravated by screams from people being launched across the valley in the vertiginous swing, Gus turns pale. He shuffles into the safety harness and makes his way to the edge of the platform. Enthusiastic dreadlocked staff give him the pep talk – “jump before your brain catches up” – and he takes their advice: leaping Superman-style into the abyss. Fear is replaced by exhilaration and we watch his lanky frame bouncing in loops over the whirlpools and eddies, whooping.
We are in Taupō for a long weekend – the midway point in the North Island for two families converging from different compass points. That evening we reconnect with glasses of wine sipped by the fire in an ex-show home AirBnb on the outskirts of town. Gus and his mate George chatter in the hot tub, turning pink and pruny.
An early morning start sees us sinking into a mingled cloud of mist and steam at Ōrakei Kōrako. This is a pocket of geothermal history; a landscape preserved exactly as it would have been thousands of years ago on the banks of the erroneously-named Lake Ohakuri (technically a dammed section of the Waikato River.)
A misty morning at Ōrakei Kōrako. © Jo Percival
Lurching, boiling water belches out of holes in the ground. The subterranean rumbling illustrates just how volatile this environment is. We linger on wooden boardwalks admiring multi-coloured swirls of mineral deposits and enjoying the steamy warmth on a chilly morning. Silky mud blurb-burbles, rich in eggy smells. “Who farted?” the boys cackle.
We continue on, following tracks through the misty bush surrounded by ferns hung with dewy cobwebs sparkling like Christmas decorations.
After lunch the sun has scrubbed away all trace of morning cloud and we take to the trails. We ride in pedal-powered convoy alongside the Waikato River from the foaming Huka Falls. Boosted by e-bikes hired from FourB we swish through the bush and splash through mud puddles. Gus and George, our teenage racehorses, charge ahead, mud-splattered backsides disappearing into the forest.
Discovering the geothermal stream in Wairākei on the Huka River Trails. © Jo Percival
The trail from Huka Falls to Aratiaia Rapids is Grade 2 so there is nothing too technical and with multiple modes on our e-bikes, the handful of hills are a breeze. We ride alongside the tangle of massive shiny pipes pumping geothermal energy out of Wairākei and cross the Aratiatia Dam, though unfortunately we haven’t timed our ride for the dramatic daily release of water.
On an adults-only evening out we discover Embra. The restaurant is named as an abbreviation of Edinburgh, the city where owners Phill and Nora Blackburne met while working at the acclaimed Castle Terrace Restaurant. The pandemic saw them return to Taupō, Phill’s hometown, in 2020 and in January last year Embra was born. Here, a feast of flavour is delivered over five courses showcasing local produce and fine wine.
Delicious food at Embra. © Jo Percival
Once solely a water taxi service, Taxicat Adventures made pandemic pivot to offer small-group tours of the Western Bays of Lake Taupō. We set off from Kinloch Marina on a gleaming morning showcasing all the hues of blue. The small boat skims over the mirrored lake towards sheer cliffs, where the teal water looks more like Abel Tasman than the North Island.
Next to the layer cake of granite the water is so clear we can see the patterns of pumice and sand many metres below.
Inland, the bush is woven through with cycle trails and nothing else. There is no road access to this part of the lake, so exploration is solely by water. Ian, our skipper noses the boat into narrow ravines where waterfalls cascade into the lake. Otupoto Falls is the largest, plummeting over the soaring cliff and misting us in spray dancing with rainbows. At Kotukutuku Bay we disembark for a short bush walk to find another waterfall – ‘honking’ as Ian says, from the recent rainfall.
Otepoto Falls, plunging into Lake Taupō. © Jo Percival
Our last stop is at another beach bathed in warm sunshine. We sip coffee and the boys are treated to hot chocolate with lashings of whipped cream as they chuck chunks of pumice into the gleaming, glassy lake.
We head back to base, replete with sunshine and fresh air, hugging goodbye and promising to meet in the middle again soon.
Story by Jo Percival for the Autumn 2023 issue of AA Directions magazine.
