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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 5, Issue 1 (May 1, 1930)

Thermal Therapeutics

Thermal Therapeutics.

But let us dry our tears and go with the girl guides to contemplate Nature in hysterics; verily, dear reader, Rotorua is the home-town of Messrs. Brimstone and Treacle; here Mother Nature steps on the gas and takes the corners on her curling pins; she simmers and burbles and boils and bursts; she abandons herself to the “vapours;” she throws her weight about, and is no lady; but she is shamelessly proud of it; she is wild and woolly and wonky; in Rotorua her real nature comes to the surface, and she wots not of the neighbours.

Rotorua, dear reader, had the whole world fried to a cinder. It is an incurable outbreak; a spot which makes Dante's dread-time stories read like a mere Joy-night at the Turkish Baths; compared with Rotorua, Vesuvius is a barber's rash, and Etna a mere wart on the Earth's epidermis. Assuredly the misguided guide who said “See Naples and die,” was indifferently acquainted with his thermaletics, else he would have substituted, “See Rotorua and save your skin.”

Let us linger at the porridge pots; how languidly they open their eyes and close them with a fat flop; hear how they sigh and sob and burble and blub—a minor melody in mud; enough porridge to cater for a thousand Highland
“Much in little.”

“Much in little.”

page 14
“The dry cleaner.”

“The dry cleaner.”

Flings—a superlative example of the Scotsman's conception of the 'free breakfast table.” Surfeit your optic with jets of artesian ebullience, surpassing the best efforts of the worst plumber who ever burst a boiler; tune in to the streams which flow backwards, upwards, downwards and inside out. What a home for a land agent! Hot and cold water laid on regardless of the by-laws, steam heating with variations, hot points at all points, and the lid off generally.