Sake To Me!

After tackling the Cannibal Gorge Swing Bridge walk, I drove about another 20 minutes east away from Crappalvania and spent the night at a place called Maruia Springs. It is a ‘blink and you will miss it’ thermal resort that is set on the banks of the Maruia River and surrounded by lush forests on rising hills. It is fully self sustained when it comes to power; the whole complex is run by a hydro-electric generator and the amount of power supplied often depends on the recent rainfall in the area. There is a back up diesel generator when the blackouts occur, which I was told does happen often enough.

When I crawled off the walk I was all sweaty and dirty and didn’t even think about how I looked until I reached the reception at this somewhat fancy place and the lady behind the desk looked appalled as she asked me if I had a reservation. Once she knew I did belong there her whole attitude changed and she became all pleasant and helpful.

In the Lonely Planet guide the hotel rooms are described as modern but pricey and I concur with this description except the rooms are not modern, unless of course you think 1980’s turquoise is cool. The paintings on the walls are so old they are about to come into style in Romania. The units are very basic and don’t have televisions or any the perks you might expect when paying a good amount of dollars. I was just happy to see a toilet and a bed. The idea here is to relax. There isn’t any cell phone coverage and the only telephone available to guests is a coin operated radio phone. For me, the best feature about my room was the outside deck complete with 2 standard white plastic patio chairs and a table with a killer view looking into a valley with layers of hills over lapping each other as if on display just for me. How relaxingly cheesy does that sound?

The worst part of this little escape was I had forgotten to pack my sandals. I remembered my dress shoes for my dining experience at the authentic Japanese restaurant on the premises but I forgot about footwear for schlepping my way around the various thermal hot pools and bathhouses. I can’t go barefoot because I have fallen arches and it hurts too much so I had two options: my dress shoes or my hiking boots. Hiking boots and a bathing suit, I reached a new level of fashion idiocy.

When checking in I booked myself into the Japanese restaurant for dinner. I was told you had to do it when you checked in because it was always busy and you want to get in as early as possible because the meal takes a long time to complete. The restaurant specializes in a form of cooking called Nabemone, which means one pot meals (See? The Japanese are so efficient!). Meals are cooked at your table in a large heavy caldron over a hot ring. Meats or fish, veggies and noodles are cooked in a steaming broth. All ingredients are disgustingly healthy and exquisitely flavorful.

There was only one waitress/hostess on shift and she did an expert job at handling all the tables on her own. Miho is from Japan and in the country only four months. She came here for the chance to work in the restaurant but after pressing a wee bit with my charming doltish ways I discovered she was not overly impressed with her decision. She was obviously far too polite to go into details so I changed the subject to how much I liked Japanese food, especially Sushi. If you think I am kidding about my obsession with Sushi and my uncontrolled gushing to Japanese people, hang out with me and I will embarrass you.

The moment I sat down, Miho brought out my first course. Because I had ordered at reception, my meal was prepared to be served immediately. No waiting. Again, the Japanese have it right. Deep fried tofu in plum sauce, prawns in a pickled lettuce and carrot salad and teriyaki chicken meatballs. It has taken me ages to become confident with chopsticks. I use to stab at my food and eat it ala caveman but I have since refined myself so as not to draw any more attention than is necessary. The fact I spill something on my shirt at every single meal is quite enough.

Miho directed my attention to the drink menu. There was an abundance of good New Zealand wines and beers and a good selection of spirits and juices but it only took me a second to decide once I saw…… SAKE! I’d never had Sake before but had always been curious about it. I ordered the medium bottle and Miho was pleased I was open to trying it. She brought out the bottle and a basket of Sake cups and allowed me to pick my own. Each cup has two Japanese characters; I picked the cup and asked Miho what they said. She replied through a toothy smile “Peace and Wind.” I took my first sip and I couldn’t help thinking it tasted like grass, like a plant. A few more sips later I was all about the Sake.

After my first course, Miho brought me a huge bowl of Miso Soup and some steamed fried rice. Then almost immediately came out with two large plates; one containing several think strips of raw Salmon, the other full of fresh veggies (lettuce, carrots, mushrooms, cabbage, celery and a few I didn’t recognize). I watched as she placed a few strips of Salmon and some of the veggies in the caldron then covered it up. “Three minutes.” She said turning briskly to greet new customers. I sipped on my soup and picked at my rice and drank my Sake until she returned. She then produced a bowl from somewhere in her Kimono and served me up the contents of the caldron and replaced them with more. Wow. I have never tasted anything so untroubled and fresh in my life. Combined with some steamed rice and Sake, the Nabemone was by far the best meal I have ever had in a New Zealand restaurant. Sorry McDonalds.

The meal went on forever; because the ingredients were so light it was easy to just keep eating. I had to order another bottle of Sake just to wash it all down with and it is because of that second bottle of Sake that the notes in my journal cease to make sense from this point on.

Here is what I have written down in bullet point form:
- yay! more Sake!
- yay for Sake!
- drank Sake sneered at uncultured Aussie couple
- Sake is good!
- I can’t rhyme worth a dime
- a marriage of cultures

Then there is more stuff about Sake and bathing nude in the Japanese bath house, which is funny because I didn’t do that till hours later when it was empty.
I finished off my meal with a vanilla sundae, then had a Jim Bean on the deck just outside of the bar. More notes in bullet point form:
- drunk scary camping bikers
- God bless the iPOD
- no more Sake!
- hee hee hee

Then there are no more notes in any form in my journal.
At under an hour’s drive away from Crappalvania, I will be going back several more times. I was so relaxed driving home the following day I felt drunk. Now I know what you are thinking, but it wasn’t the Sake, I really was totally relaxed the way I should be all the time.