It seems like only yesterday that I landed at Wellington airport, a bright eyed traveller with dreams bigger than Stewart Island, ready for a year in New Zealand. I was picked up by my new flatmate, and his dog, and thus began a new life in a new city, a new country, over halfway around the world from home.
On my first day in town, I experienced the grocery store, a wondrous place where I could also select amazing bottles of wine at incredibly low prices. The next day, armed with my passport and copy of my lease, I set up a bank account, got a cell phone, and sent off my details to the IRD. I set about job hunting, but that failed. Instead I filled my days with visits to Te Papa, Cuba Street, and my favourite coffee shop. Your free wifi was a lifesaver when I wanted to escape my house and still get some work done.
I met people, through Tinder, through backpacker sites, and I made friends with everyone. You Kiwis are so friendly. I joined a group that wanted to hike the Tongariro Crossing, and I challenged my body and my mind to conquer that demanding terrain.
I took a spontaneous adventure north to jump on board a sailboat with my friend from the States, a week that left me even more starry eyed that a place like the Bay of Islands could exist in real life. Six weeks later, I would come to call that fairyland home for four months.
With an English lad, I road tripped north through Napier, home to gorgeous Art Deco architecture and delicious wine; Gisborne, where I took a surfing lesson from Frank and watched the sunrise at Wainui Beach; Mount Maunganui, where Paul and I had the most horrific hostel experience of my life; and the Coromandel, a “gobsmackingly beautiful” remote part of the country. I spent a few nights on a sailboat with Rob, eating fresh scallops and watching the stars above the Whangarei Heads. And then I arrived in Paihia ready to explore the Far North.
It’s no secret that I adored my time up north. The people are so friendly, the landscape so varied, the legends so real. I worked at a beach bar – how many more times in my life can I say that? I met amazing people. Kind, genuine, enthusiastic. I spent my days on a tiny sailboat, rocketing around the bay. I spent my nights with my friends, drinking wine under the bright lights of Thirty Thirty. And through it all, I craved more.
So, when Aussie Chris rocked up into town and we decided to head north, I knew I’d found a great road trip buddy. We deemed it #northtothecape and off we went. Instagramming as we went, we met old friends in the hostel at Ahipara and spent the next day at Cape Reinga and Spirits Bay with them. We lounged in the sun at the top of the world, at the point where the oceans meet, where spirits leave. We splashed in the surf and we wandered the beach in either direction.
The road trip came to an unfortunate end, with my car exploding on a remote road… but we made the best of it and we got lucky with the mechanic offering to drive us back to Paihia. I told you, you Kiwis are really exceptional.
A month later, I sold my car for cheap and began heading south in a rental car… through Hokianga and Omapere, to Ngawha Springs and Tane Mahuta, back to Whangarei and the sailboat once more. Finally to Piha, Raglan, Huntly, and Auckland. I picked up another rental car in Auckland and headed south. Rotorua – land of volcanoes and geysers – and Taranaki, where Diver Dan and I attempted a hike in pure fog and slashing rain. And onward to Wellington… where I met up with old friends and enjoyed the cultural scene I loved so much.
A ferry to the South Island and car camping in Queen Charlotte Sound made the start of my South Island road trip surreal. Setting up camp in the pissing down rain only to wake up to lush green hills and cerulean water… New Zealand, you surprise me at every turn. The next night’s campsite was even better… Mere metres from the high tide line, seals frolicking in the surf, the mountains just behind us. Watching the horizon line undulate in the moonlight was an experience I will never forget. When the earthquake hit Kaikoura a few months later, my first thoughts were of that magical night under the stars, and my next thoughts were for the seals whose playground we had shared. Seeing how Kiwis and travelers alike bonded together over that challenging circumstance made me cry, because so many other countries would begin pointing fingers.
Inland then… to the lakes and Arthur’s Pass. Sitting in the middle of a dry lake bed, the stars in full force above us, wind whipping us around as we tried to make dinner, will forever be etched in my memories. Camping at Lake Pearson, hiking at Bealey Spur – coming out above the trees to the view below, the glacial valley and the spidery web of the rivers. NZ, You are stunning.
That night, Tay and I set up camp under the trees at Lake Pearson. We scrounged for firewood but it was too damp. We awoke in the morning to a thin layer of snow. Winter had arrived and it was beautiful.
We met up with Aussie Chris in Christchurch, where him and I spent four days exploring the once-broken city. I was impressed with the vibrancy of the city, the resilience. Sunsets here are incredible, you know. Watching the sun set at Akaroa was just wow.
Chris and I headed inland then, to Tekapo, Lake Pukaki, Twizel. I hiked at Hooker Valley on a bluebird day, in brilliant glittering snow. We drove through the passes to Queenstown arriving on a Friday afternoon ready to paint the town red over the weekend.
I always say I don’t like QT. I find it too glitzy, too resort-like, too stuck up. But every time I’m there (up to 6 or 7 times now) I have a blast. The hiking around town is good, the lake views are unreal, and the social life is pretty solid. I’ve got friends there, you know, so I like to spend time with them. And the Central Otago wine is definitely in my top five, so you know I visit the wineries. 😉
And finally, we arrived in Dunedin. Home, sweet home. I could tell you a story about Dunedin.. I loved it. I worked at Speights Ale House, adjacent to the brewery, for five months. I found a flat in town with other internationals – Germans, Swedes, Dutch – and forged some unlikely friendships.
I did some more exploring while living in Dunedin. I went through to Central twice, both times to Wanaka, Queenstown, and Kinloch. I spent my birthday alone in Wanaka, not by choice, but I was free and wild and going my own way. It was transformative.
The day I finally left Dunedin, I did so late in the afternoon, in a rainstorm, and only crested the hills to the north. It was as if I didn’t really want to go… and, in fact, I didn’t want to at all.
I took myself north first, a mini road trip around Oamaru to Twizel and Mount Cook, and then back to Dunedin before going south again. The Catlins are among my favourite places in the country. You do nature so well. You do landscape so well. I know it has to do with the volcanoes that will eventually blow you key high but damn, NZ, you really do rock at scenery.
I finally got to visit the Cathedral Caves, which were just as impressive as I’d been led to believe, but I also managed to blow my knee out doing it. That night, I camped at Curio Bay. Holy hell, NZ, if that isn’t an incredible, magical place. you finally showed me some yellow eyed penguins up close – so close that I was in tears for the opportunity you gave, and also because of my knee. I sat under the hot sun watching the penguins make their way to shore at dusk, the Southern Ocean crashing to the shelf edge fifty meters away.
My road trip north was incredible. Everywhere I went, I met locals and expats who shared their stories of NZ with me. I met travellers who were seeing New Zealand with fresh eyes.
Midway through my road trip, I flew north for a week. I spent it near Hamilton with my brother and his friends who were in the country for a wedding. Seeing NZ through the eyes of someone who has never left the United States was a cool experience.
When I flew back south, I was not prepared for the wave of emotions that came over me as I finally left Queenstown and Wanaka behind. I didn’t even live there, I tried to reason with myself. I have no ties to either town. But leaving – finally, for the last time, driving north of SH6 instead of back into QT and onward to Dunedin – made me cry. Maybe it was the landscape of Lake Hawea and Lake Wanaka, the towering mountains with their still-snow-capped peaks, the winding road. Either way, it took some time before I was able to focus on the road ahead of me, not the one behind me.
My trip took my up the West Coast, a few campsites, a hostel here and there. Constantly changing scenery: the white sand beaches along Jackson Bay, the young forest around the glaciers, the glaciers themselves, and the rocky shoreline.
Every day brought me closer to leaving, but I kept those thoughts at bay. Or I tried, anyway. I had a plan: Australia then Asia. I’d had a long chat with a friend about needing to focus on me. I could do that there, I knew. I could start my business there, I knew. Emails came from home, though and I started making plans to go back.
I drove to the end of the road and the beginning of the Heaphy Track, where so few people venture. I took my time getting to Golden Bay. I spent Christmas in Takaka and New Years in Wellington. In all, it took me a month to get from Queenstown to Wellington. This is how I travel and it was perfect.
I saw so much, but at the same time I have so much left to see.
Friends came and went, another blip on my radar. In Takaka, I met two American guys who had met someone I’d met on the trail, on a different trail. Small, small world, ain’t it, in Phil’s words. Life moves on. We met up again in Gisborne.
Wellington. Warm, sunny. I saw the remnants of the earthquake damage. I went back to my old haunts where they remembered me. I saw old friends and then kept going. North… on the road again, around through the Rimutakas to the end of the road. I stopped at Cape Palliser and watched the baby seals at the colony there. It was windy and cold but it was amazing. I met RR in Wharekauhau and drank bottles of wine while sitting at the end of the earth. Best moment was when he tipped backward out of his chair but didn’t spill a drop of wine. Classic!
I drove north from there, meeting Zach and John in Gisborne, travelling with them to Rotorua and Hamilton. I sold my car and sent a box of stuff home. Then I packed my backpack and slowly made my way to Auckland, savouring the scenery, the moments with new friends, the last few days in this extraordinary place.
New Zealand, you have been so good to me. I could never have imagined the stories I have from this year, I could never have seen how I would be irrevocably changed after this year. Thank you a million times over for all of the memories.