So the unruly tourists have gone. Back to ol' Blighty. Without, it seems, ever making it to the Bay of Plenty.

We can only imagine how they might have brought their particular brand of British brouhaha to our golden shores.

I've got a fair bit of experiencing shepherding Brits (albeit quite well-behaved ones) around the Bay of Plenty's beauty spots, so I've put together an itinerary should this group of newsmakers choose to return for a do-over holiday.


Their first stop on the way to the Bay from Auckland Airport has to be Hobbiton, the pride of Matamata.

As one member of the group told the NZ Herald, "we are here to see the Hobbits".

They missed out this time, due to unforeseen... circumstances. So this is a must.

The one "ant in your meal" I foresee with this visit is that Hobbiton, in my experience, lacks Hobbits.

I have seen some nice Hobbit holes, wonderful Hobbit gardens and a lovely Hobbit pub. It is overall a very charming movie set but I've never seen an actual Hobbit.

I hate to think what the laddie's reaction might have been to that revelation.

On second thoughts, maybe we'll skip Hobbiton.

Not to worry, I'll take the wheel of the tour bus (best if I drive, I think, given their road experiences) and head to Mount Maunganui for a day at the beach. Brits love a holiday tan.


On the way, there would be a stern warning about littering on New Zealand beaches, though hopefully, this group would have learned their lesson from their viral exploits in Takapuna that turned their holiday into a national summer spectacle.

Up next: Tourist mecca, Rotorua.

I'd probably suggest we skip the cultural exhibits.

Rotorua is home to many finely honed experiences with staff equipped to handle all manner of tourist faux-pas, but I just think it would be better for everyone if we took our chances with the mudpools.

The kids might have to be leashed though, just to be safe.

My final recommendation for Aotearoa, round two, is a spot of zorbing.

I reckon they might find the experience of tumbling out of control down a hill in a giant plastic fishbowl a nice allegory for their first holiday to New Zealand.

What could possibly go wrong?