Rollin', rollin', rollin'

The next day we kept our feet firmly on the ground, in a manner of speaking. They were either on the ground or inside a giant beach ball, which was on the ground. We went Zorbing.

A Zorb is a giant soft rubber ball that you are put into, and then the Zorb is rolled down a hill. It's sort of life a giant hamster ball, but softer, and you don't generally strap the poor hamster in so he rolls tail-over-toes-over-tail-over-toes all the way down a hill. And hamster owners (kind hamster owners, anyway), usually don't throw a bucket of water in with said hamster when they don't strap him in so he sloshes and slides all the way down. But these are the choices for humans who Zorb.

You could choose to do one or the other, or do it three times for the price of twice. We went for this option. The first time was the strapped in version, which we did in separate Zorbs. To get into the Zorb you have to dive through an opening on its side, which is zipped up once you're in place. For the first Zorb trip I had straps holding my arms, waist, chest and legs in place. They then zipped up the opening and gave my Zorb a gentle push down the hill. I bounced upside down, then right side up, then upside down. What I could see was sky ... grass ... sky ... grass .. . sky grass sky grassskygrassskygrasssky until the ball came to the flat part at the bottom of the hill and rolled to a stop. It was somewhat dizzying, but a lot of fun. When they poured me out of the Zorb (they really do pour you - they open the flap, turn the Zorb opening-down, and you fall out through the opening), I was a little dizzy, but from the Zorbers' offer of help to walk me the few feet back to the building, I gather some people fare worse and might be genuinely disoriented.

But I thought it was good fun. I was eager to go down the hill our second time, which was in a water-filled Zorb. Leslie and I could go in the same Zorb this time, and they threw in the bucket of water before we dove in. I was glad to find it was pleasantly lukewarm water. They didn't push our Zorb this time; we were to stand in the Zorb and walk forward. Which we did, but of course as soon as the Zorb started to roll we fell and slipped and slid the rest of the way down. It was fantastic fun. They describe it as "a combination of a waterslide and a rollercoaster," and that's kind of accurate. You slosh around up the sides of the Zorb, tumble upside down and round and round generally have an absolute blast. The water Zorb (which they call the Zydro) wasn't dizzying at all, just terrific fun.

Do remember Slip 'n' Slides? A Slip 'n' Slide was a big plastic runway that you put out on your lawn and turned your garden hose on (Slip 'n' Slides must have gone the way of the dodo in Stage 3a Water Restriction Australia). You took a run at it and then slid on your knees or behind on the wet plastic with water flowing all around. I never had one, but I had a friend who did, and it's the closest sort of feeling I can think of to a Zydro. Except that instead of just slipping on the ground, you're slipping in all directions. It's like a 3-D Slip 'n' Slide.

The third Zorb was another Zydro, but this time we went separately and the ball was pushed down a zig-zag track. This was the slippiest and slidiest of all, and it was an absolute blast. I laughed and shrieked all the way down (on all three Zorb trips). Leslie kept trying to stand up in his Zorb with absolutely no success. But he enjoyed the falling process. In mine I gave up on standing and just enjoyed the ride.

After we dried off, we drove to Tongariro National Park, which was a bit south of Taupo, to go hiking. Tongariro starred as Mount Doom in the Lord of the Rings movies, and it was imposing, barren and beautiful.

The first part of the four-hour hike was through a temperate forest. It looked sort of like a rainforest, with tall, lush green trees and muddy ground. We encountered a very large group of hikers, who seemed to be part of a giant tour group, coming the other way. When they spoke to us, they invariably asked us the same question: "How far to the car park?" The first ones we met were pleased as Punch when we said "Not far at all, maybe five minutes." But as we went on, our news got less and less good, and the reactions were less and less happy. "Ten minutes? OK, I can make it that far." "Twenty minutes? Really? Whew, all right, that's not too bad." "Thirty five more minutes? You're sure?! That's a long way." "A whole other hour?! Oh my god."

The path was wide and gently sloping upwards. It was well-maintained, and the going was easy. Convenient bridges were built over some of the ravines and streams, and it was a pleasant walk. That was until we got to the steps.

The steps started while we were still in the rainforest area, and they made a steep climb indeed. And they seemed to go on forever. The mud, which hadn't seemed like a problem on the easy slope, was suddenly far more treacherous. All we could see was trees, and the mountain seemed to go on forever. We met some more of the hiking group, who responded to our unpleasant news with some of their own: "There's a lot more stairs that way."

Eventually we came out of the forest. We were high up, and I'd say the view was breathtaking, but in reality it was the stairs that were breathtaking. But the view was amazing. We could see several lakes nestled in valleys, and there were mountains as far as the eye could see. New Zealand is a very mountainous country.

But that was not the end of the hike. That was probably the halfway mark of the ascent. The rest of the path cut a gravel swath through scrub land and rocks. It was considerably drier, and the going was a little less steep. But there were still many, many stairs.

We were hiking towards a geothermal hot spring, where huge billowing clouds of steam were erupting out of the mountain. I empathised with Sam and Frodo, as we too were trudging towards Mt Doom. It was a good choice to play the villain's lair - they wouldn't even have needed a smoke machine. The scrubs were low and rough and prickly - it wasn't difficult to imagine orcs and goblins lumbering through the countryside and teeming around the gushing steam.

There were treats for cheerful hikers - or churlish hikers, if it came to it, because the food and water was in my pack. I carried four bottles of water, two bread rolls, a hunk of cheese and a bag of sweets. Leslie carried a camera, two lenses and a tripod. Our packs weighed about the same when we left the car, but mine was considerably lighter when we got back.

The hot springs were not actually a good place to rest and eat, it turned out, as dramatic a vista as they provided. Like all the hot springs we encountered, they stank. The stench made the meal at the top of the mountain somewhat less enjoyable. But then, Mordor isn't usually on people's top 10 picnic spots.