Sunrise

Anything we did after Hobbiton was always going to feel like the encore after the headline act. But still buzzing from our morning among the hobbits, we drove the hour to Rotorua, which is a place you smell before you see. The sulphur hangs in the air as a reminder that this whole region sits on the Pacific Ring of Fire, the restless edge of the Earth’s tectonic plates.

Mount Ngauruhoe

New Zealand straddles the boundary between the Australian Plate and the Pacific Plate, which is why it has so many volcanoes, earthquakes, and incredible landscapes. The North Island in particular is shaped by volcanic forces and our next destinations of Taupō, Rotorua, Tongariro are all part of the Taupō Volcanic Zone, one of the most active on Earth.

Emerald Lakes on the Tongariro Alpine Crossing

Rotorua is the poster child for the volcanic area, a town where the geothermal energy bubbles constantly beneath the earth’s crust, leaking out into steaming vents and simmering lakes. For centuries Māori communities settled here, harnessing the hot springs for cooking, bathing and healing, and today the town remains one of the cultural heartlands of  New Zealand. Clouds of steam curled from fissures in the ground while mud pools simmered beside the roadside, reminders that the landscape here is very much alive.

Taupō

We paused briefly at the elegant Government Gardens and admired distant sulphur vents hissing against the skyline, but Rotorua itself felt heavily geared towards tourism and never quite captured us. Rather than linger among the mud pools and nearby geothermal parks such as Wai-O-Tapu Thermal Wonderland, we pressed onwards to Taupō, where we planned to spend a few quieter days recovering from the whirlwind pace of our journey through New Zealand so far.

Lake Taupō

Lake Taupō is the largest lake in New Zealand and fills the crater of an enormous super volcano whose eruption almost two thousand years ago was one of the most violent on earth. Today it appears serene and impossibly blue, masking its explosive origins beneath a peaceful surface.

The Craters of the Moon

The main town on the lake is Taupō, which is a compact, relaxed little place, full of outdoor outfitters, cafés and hikers preparing for adventures in the surrounding volcanic wilderness. There are plenty of places to grab a coffee or something to eat along the lakefront. From the small harbour you can hire boats of all sizes to explore the lake or take a boat trip to explore the famous Māori rock carvings, visible only by boat on the far side of the lake. Unfortunately our attempts to explore the lake were curtailed by high winds, which is classic New Zealand, stunning scenery, unpredictable weather, and plans that change at the last minute. But there are so  many things to see and do you will never waste a day here. 

Huka Falls

Huka Falls is on the outskirts of town and is where New Zealand’s longest river, the Waikato, narrows dramatically before exploding through a tight volcanic gorge. The sheer force of the water was astonishing to watch, with constant turquoise torrents thundering past at incredible speed.

Wairakei Terraces & Thermal Health Spa

The nearby Craters of the Moon is a much quieter place, a geothermal loop around a landscape of steaming vents and scarred earth shaped by underground volcanic heat. The relative silence gave the place an eerie, almost prehistoric atmosphere. It made for nice contrasting examples of the Earth's raw power in such close proximity, simmering above and below Taupō.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing

We couldn't visit this volcanic hotspot without indulging in some thermal spa indulgence. A short distance from town is the Wairakei Terraces & Thermal Health Spa. Māori communities have long valued these mineral-rich thermal waters for their healing properties, and even today there is something deeply restorative about sinking into naturally heated pools while steam drifts lazily into the cool air. Feeling suitably restored, we were ready for the biggest challenge of our trip so far.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing

The Tongariro Alpine Crossing is a 20‑kilometre point‑to‑point track located in Tongariro National Park on New Zealand’s North Island. The route crosses an active volcanic landscape and is considered one of the country’s most demanding day walks due to its steep ascents, exposed terrain, and rapidly changing weather conditions. It's also widely regarded as one of the best single‑day hikes in the world. 

Tongariro Alpine Crossing

After a couple of cancellations due to bad weather we had finally been given clearance to attempt the crossing. Before 6am, in complete darkness we left Taupō and drove around the shores of the Lake towards the shuttle point at Ketetahi which is the actual end of the trail. There we joined dozens of equally apprehensive hikers boarding buses into the volcanic wilderness of Tongariro National Park and the start of the trail at Mangatepōpō. 

Mount Ngauruhoe

Stepping off the bus at Mangatepōpō was brutal. The freezing wind tore across the exposed plateau while the low morning sun blasted directly into our eyes. We wore every layer we possessed and still shivered uncontrollably. For a moment the entire undertaking felt faintly ridiculous.

But then the mountains emerged. Towering ahead stood Mount Ngauruhoe which is instantly recognisable as Mount Doom from The Lord of the Rings movies. Its near-perfect volcanic cone dominated the landscape like something mythological, and gradually the scenery distracted us from the cold.

Mount Ngauruhoe

The crossing traverses one of the most extraordinary volcanic landscapes anywhere in the world, absolutely evident as we crossed the initial barren expanse of South Crater, a vast, flat basin that feels like walking across Mars, or Mordor. Then starts a slow ascent towards Red Crater, the highest point of the route, where iron-rich rock has stained the mountainside crimson. 

The climb towards Red Crater felt endless as we walked amongst the clouds . Each ridge revealed another steep ascent and at several points I was convinced I was far too high above the earth for comfort. Looking across towards Mount Ngauruhoe, it genuinely seemed close enough to touch.

Mount Ngauruhoe and the Red Crater

I have a fear of heights, so at the highest point of the Red Crater I was terrified. But after composing myself I was able to survey the incredible views opening up through the clouds. Below lay the astonishing Emerald Lakes, their surreal green colours created by dissolved volcanic minerals, while the sacred Blue Lake shimmered quietly nearby.

Descent from the Red Crater, Tongariro Alpine Crossing

The descent from the Crater was mildly chaotic as we scrambled helplessly down loose red volcanic gravel. I fell flat on my backside at one point, though judging by the laughter and swearing around us, I was far from alone. Only when we looked back towards Red Crater did we fully appreciate the scale of what we had climbed. Had I seen it properly beforehand, I’m honestly not sure I would have started it.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing

We stopped periodically for a breather, for sandwiches and sometimes simply to stare. The scenery was so dramatic it hardly seemed real, steaming vents, ancient lava flows, jagged volcanic ridges and lakes glowing unnatural shades of green and blue.

Blue Lake on the Tongariro Alpine Crossing

The final descent wound endlessly through the Ketetahi Springs where steam from volcanic rifts drifted across the descent like stage fog. It was a long downhill slog following the Rotopaunga Valley, with views over Lake Rotoaira and Lake Taupō. For the final stage of the trek we were enveloped beneath a canopy of green in an alpine forest and walked down thousands of wooden steps on the wooden walkway, punishing already exhausted knees. Yet after six hours and twenty minutes we finally staggered across the finish line, joining a collection of equally battered hikers.

The descent through the Rotopaunga Valley

It had been a monumental day.
We had crossed Mordor to Mount Doom and lived to tell the tale.
The next chapter was a three‑hour push to Napier, but by this point the long drives had stopped feeling like hurdles. They’d become part of the rhythm of the trip, a kind of rolling decompression chamber where the day’s heroics could settle and the next adventure could quietly gather itself.
Or at least that's what I told myself.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing