Katie Holland: Seeing the city through tourist's eyes

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PHEW! Holidays are blimmin' exhausting, aren't they?

All that eating and drinking and fun in the sun sure wears one out. Not to mention the travelling and relatives and sunburn and post-Christmas sales and over-excited kids.

It's almost enough to make one yearn for the mundane normality of going to work, eating food other than chocolates and leftover ham, and letting 5pm pass by without breaking out the wine and chippies.

For me, this year's holiday highlight - and probably the reason for the post-Christmas exhaustion - was playing hostess to family visiting Rotorua for the first time. Not only did that mean a frenzied Christmas Eve cleaning spree, last-minute cutlery purchasing and blowing up of airbeds, but the pressure of hoping they liked Rotorua. Because although we may moan at times, deep down we love the city and want others to love it too.

It means I got to see the city through the eyes of a tourist. And the noses. I've grown immune to the smell - so as the kids screwed up their faces and covered their noses during a stroll through Kuirau Park there was no sympathy from me. You're in Vegas now, girls, harden up.

The weather gods were on our side, so swims at Tikitapu (Blue Lake) and Lake Tarawera were big hits. Tick.

Lugeing was the top of the kids' to-do list. Unfortunately, it was also on the list for vast busloads of tourists - with a queue out the door unlike anything I had ever seen at Skyline. Never fear, having bought them a gift voucher for Christmas, my excited first-time lugers were able to bypass the ticket queue and head straight on up. Major hostess points.

Also on the list was the Zorb. No big queues here and the kids were hurtling down a hill in a big plastic water-filled ball in no time. "Can we do it again?" they chorused as they returned. Sadly, that had to be a no - the tourist attractions, while great, are not cheap.

Which is why the free Glo Festival was also a hit - three generations of us set up camp on the Village Green to watch How to Train Your Dragon 2. The sun was out, the vibe was chilled and it was Rotorua at its best. Plus, Eat Streat was just a short escape away when the grown-ups got a bit bored mid-movie. Hypothetically speaking of course. And what better way to round out a night than a nausea-inducing ride at the carnival. It's the stuff memories are hopefully made of.

Sure, it wasn't all perfect. New Year's Eve dinner was frankly terrible (the first time I've ever contemplated leaving a restaurant before the main meal arrived, as those at the neighbouring table did) but, apart from that, Rotorua turned it on for my guests.

Eat Streat was buzzing with life and bagpipers. People were friendly and smiling and the easy to navigate, traffic-free city impressed my big city visitor - it's the little things sometimes.

Just as Rotorua wasn't perfect, neither was my hostessing.

My failings were mainly limited to an unmet demand for things I didn't know I needed. Vinegar, brown sugar, a plunger, Steelos. A bigger fridge. Despite that, I'm pretty confident these visitors were left singing Rotorua's praises.

One was even heard to mutter "it's not a bad spot". High praise indeed.

My mother was the last to leave. As I waved her off and stood savouring the peace and quiet, I looked around. There, on the bench, she had left me a plunger and some Steelos. Tick.