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Driving from Turangi back to Rotorua for the Maori concert and feast we'd booked for tonight, our car broke down again. A nice passerby towed it for us to a store up the street, where the equally nice storeowner who had let us use his phone to try to find a mechanic who works Saturdays (apparently cars in New Zealand don't break down on weekends) let us park our car to make sure hooligans didn't smash our windows (we're told this is a regular occurrence). Anyway, we're killing time in Rotorua waiting for it to be Monday so we can get a mechanic.
We made it to our cultural evening, though, by the grace of some kind passing Brits. They picked us up from the store where we left the car and drove us to Te Whakerewerewa, just in time. The food was excellent, but the culture part was pretty mickey-mouse, very touristy and we didn't really feel like we learned much about it. It was a good experience, and the concert was a lot of fun, but we were hoping for something a little more genuine.
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