Extreme NZ tourist day today. We almost didn’t make it out of the house on time this morning because Nick and I weren’t feeling 100% and Millie got a taste of that sweet sweet endless TV time yesterday and was begging for more. I rallied the troops and got us to the Agrodome in time for the 11AM farm show.

Nick and I kept remarking how “Agrodome” sounds like some sort of Ancient Greek / MMA crossover, but unfortunately it is short for agriculture and not aggression. As with Hobbiton, the crowd was us and about 50 Chinese tourists, all aged between 50-70. With its 6:1 sheep-to-human ratio, I don’t think New Zealand residents care to spend $40 to see a sheep show.

The show was an hour long and entertained us the whole time. We did have one incident where the presenter asked for volunteers, Millie refused to raise her hand and then got upset that she wasn’t chosen… but other than this hiccup we loved it. It started with them bringing out 19!!! different breeds of sheep. She explained what they were each bred for.

There was a shearing demonstration where she shaved a whole lamb. She then threw the wool out at us and we got to feel the fresh wool and rub its lanolin into our hands. A little gross but mostly cool.

There was a live milking session. The whole front row got sprayed by the teat as a joke. I was very happy we decided to sit two rows back.

They showed different working dogs including these two that ran up and down the backs of the sheep, barking wildly. I can’t remember why now, but that was what they are bred to do.

When it was over we were invited up to meet all the sheep and dogs.

We gave our hands a good wash and then set off on the farm tour. We got towed by a big tractor and fed sheep and alpacas.

Coming from the states, and especially from Texas, this all felt mostly familiar. Except for two big differences. First, venison is a very popular meat here. We eat it at home too, but always having been gifted it by our hunting relatives. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pasture of farmed deer. Here, they’re everywhere, like cows or sheep.

Second, there were rows and rows of kiwi fruit. I had never considered how they grew but they are vines. These vines were almost 40 years old and still producing fruit (just like me).

We stopped near a grove of feijoa trees. These are related to guavas and have a very strong, kind of strange, flavor. It is peak feijoa season right now so we all tried some fresh. Our guide told us we could take as many as we wanted, so I left with a purse full of them.

We saw some more farm animals and returned to the entrance. Millie played briefly on their small playground and Nick and I started feeling sick again. She got hungry so we went to the cafe and had some snacks and coffee. The coffee did the trick and gave us enough energy to go on.

As we were heading to the car, we saw there was a ticket office to visit the National Kiwi Hatchery, which is located nearby the Agrodome farm.

We have had about five opportunities so far in NZ to see Kiwi birds. Each time we decide against it, usually because of cost but really because we just aren’t that interested in birds. Sorry, birds. Today we were like… let’s just get it over and see the damn birds. We can’t come to New Zealand and not see a kiwi.

Of course, it ended up being a highlight. Kiwis are weird, just like platypi. Some kiwi facts that we learned: they are heavier than they look because they have bone marrow (rare for birds!). They are monogamous (romantic!). The male birds incubate the eggs (feminist kings!). They lay massive eggs relative to their size (ouch). And only 5% of the eggs in the wild make it, thanks to mammalian predators that were introduced by Europeans (booo Europeans!).

Kiwis are nocturnal so in this viewing area they have a faux nighttime enclosure, lit by only dim red lights. We weren’t allowed to take photos or have phones out with the birds because they can’t have any light. We forgot to account for Millie’s light-up sneakers which almost blinded a kiwi. I picked her up and she did the rest of the tour barefoot.

We got lucky and saw a just-hatched egg, probably the last of the season. We got to watch a carer clean off its bellybutton and put it to sleep. It dosed off like an actual little baby. I started the tour wondering what the big deal was about saving these helpless little birds, and left it wanting to dedicate my life to kiwi preservation.

We drove home in the pouring rain and I made a big pot of spaghetti bolognese. We now call this “spag bol” like the Aussies. This was the first real meal Nick and I had eaten in 36 hours and it felt great to be back to normal. We finished our evening attempting a tough puzzle, which Nick will hover over until it’s completed.