The place of kiwis. The place of mountains. The place of bays and glaciers and unique wildlife.
The people were kind, the scenery was stunning, and the hiking was next level.
In reflecting on my time in New Zealand, it’s a struggle to vividly remember it all. Three months is a lengthy adventure.
My arrival in Auckland seems like a year ago. Either that’s because my memory is as shit as I think it is, or time has been distorted by the amount of experiences I fit into that glorious 90-day window.
I met heaps of people. Many of them fleetingly, but a few kindred spirits that I could easily contact if/when visiting their home countries (and vice versa). I also picked up a little bit of lingo if you didn’t catch that usage of “heaps.”
On that note, probably the most valuable part of this trip has been the immersion into another culture. Even though it may have only been a subtle contrast to that of the U.S., it’s still an important process. I’m not going to sit here and say I’m a changed person or anything, but seeing the way other people live everyday life can at least open your mind to a different approach.
I wrote about the “no worries” attitude before and that’s something I hope I’m able to keep with me as I go forward. Everything doesn’t have to be taken so seriously. Things work out. There’s a lot of stuff out there we can’t control, so just take it as it comes. No worries.
By the Numbers
Days in New Zealand: 91 Days at Workaways: 43 Days with a Rental Car: 28 Nights in Hostels: 39 NZD Spent: ~$7,425.84 USD Spent: ~$5,017.46 (Avg. conversion rate of roughly 1.48)
Also, here’s my Trip Advisor profile. I was reviewing things pretty heavily up until I wasn’t. Maybe one day I’ll finish it out but it doesn’t seem likely.
Finally, I still don’t really know what I’m doing, but I think I’ve taken some decent pictures along the way. Kind of hard to screw it up with scenery that good. Below is an album with my favorite photos from New Zealand.
I’m sure we all woke up a little groggy. We were getting an early start.
The plan was to hike Ben Lomond, which was a challenging uphill climb with variable weather conditions. First thing, we went to DOC to check on the status and get some details.
I think we were all questioning it. I was worried about my knee on the way down and they were hesitant about the temperature and grade. The response we got from the ranger was, “It snowed up there a few days ago so it’ll be slushy. You’ll have to take care where you put your feet in certain sections because there’s a quick drop off.”
It wasn’t necessarily a vote of confidence. The unspoken consensus I was picking up was that we weren’t going to the summit.
The compromise we made was to ride the gondola up (skipping the first part of the track) and go for as long as we were comfortable. We’d luge afterward since that was at the top of the gondola anyway and then call it a day.
We went back to prep lunches and snacks and got ready to go.
The gondola ride up was nice. At the top was an exceptional view of Queenstown.
Queenstown from the Gondola Lookout
There was definitely a difference in temperature just where we were. I think motivation was low group-wide but we started the walk.
It was a decent grade at first; not too terrible. Hannah commented early on that it was already better than she thought it’d be. Then what was a gradual ascension began to get more intense.
About 20 minutes in there was a sign noting the saddle was 1.5hrs and the summit was 2.5hrs. So a 5hr return. It didn’t seem in the cards.
As we continued, they fell behind me at a few stages. What I didn’t know was that they were already calling off the summit while talking amongst themselves.
We made decent time getting to the saddle and had a snack. Looking at the peak from where we were did seem ominous. A persons’s silhouette was the size of an ant on the ridgeline. Kind of sweet though.
Up the Saddle Toward the Summit
We decided that we might as well keep going for now.
The last leg of the climb was obviously going to be the most difficult. To add to the challenge, the wind decided to start whipping. Chilly gusts of 20-30mph that we were leaning into.
At some point, the trail got muddled with wash outs. We were rock hopping and doing switchbacks.
Hannah shot out of a cannon. Whether it was anger at the cold or the morning coffee taking full effect, she crushed the final ascent.
Before we knew it, we’d hiked Ben Lomond. The altitude is 5,150 ft, of which we climbed 3300+ft. It felt like a special accomplishment. And shortly after arriving, we got our reward in the form of mint chocolates from a very kind Japanese man. He bowed many times.
In the Mountains, In the Clouds
Ben Lomond Summit
The view was worth it. There was a dude up there in shorts somehow. Cruising. Said he could see his house. Props. He mentioned something about “l’appel du vide,” the French term for “the call of the void.” Like there’s a voice in the back of your mind when being at heights like this that tells you to jump.
I was like nah, but I might get blown off by this wind and try to ride it all the way to the bottom.
On the way down, the wind conveniently shut off. No surprise there. We ate our lunch at the saddle and pressed on.
I’m not sure how long it took us in total, but we took a deserved rest when we got back to the gondola station.
We got a classic line from Hannah after a little while of sitting at a table outside.
“My legs are cold. Zack, can you put your legs on my legs?”
-Hannah Chartouni
I can safely say I’d never heard that request before. Now I can tick it off the list.
Before it was time to take our gondola ride down to the ground, we had luge tickets to use.
It was basically like real life Mario Kart without the weapons. It looked kind of cheesy as we watched people go by, but it was actually really fun trying to get as much speed as possible. There were some sweet downhills and curves in there. We got 5 runs and took a very scenic chairlift up to the start each time. We were all pretty happy with how the day turned out.
Fat Badgers Pizza
Back at street level, it was time to satisfy the appetites we’d worked up. We went to a place called Fat Badgers where Zack and I got a massive pizza, wings and a beer and it was pretty much lights out after that.
Solid accomplishments.
Day 5 – Kind of Shotunder, Actually
It was rafting day and I was hyped. It was also a great day for it. The weather was pristine.
Based on my previous rafting experience in New Zealand, this was going to be sick. It was also another level up. We’d be on class 4 and 5 rapids in the same sweet as canyon where I did the swing and zip line. Stoked.
The downside was that they didn’t allow personal cameras for safety reasons. Based on the videos they were playing in the office, it did actually look pretty gnarly. The river was running higher than normal so it was going to be churning.
They said that they weren’t operating a few days ago because of the water level and also told us that at least one boat was flipping every day.
Scandalous.
Another exciting detail about this trip was that to get to the drop in, we’d be on one of the worlds top 10 most dangerous roads.
Skippers Canyon Rd. – *This is not my image. No copyright intended.
Seeing it in person was crucial. Our driver had steel testicles, that’s for sure. I would’ve nope’d out hard in a regular vehicle, yet here he was maneuvering a bus full of people with a trailer full of rafts behind it.
We’re talking about a one lane (generous), winding dirt road that’s high as shit with no guard rails. And there was another vehicle + a bulldozer trying to come the opposite way at two points. Crazy.
In any event, we made it safely where we needed to. For the driving portion at least.
At the launch point, we got our final safety briefing and our boat assignment. We were paired up with 3 employees from the company who were kayak guides. So basically our raft was mean as hell. We were the lead boat down the river because of how sick we were. That is not factual, but a safe assumption per my unskilled observation.
The early stage of the Shotover river was pretty smooth sailing. There were a few class 2 and 3 rapids but nothing too gnarly. There was also a spot where we got to jump out for a swim. Pretty frigid river but when in Rome.
It was kind of surprising when we got to the halfway point. We’d only conquered a handful of rapids so far and nothing that intense. We were at the chief section though.
Our guide gave us the run down and we went full steam ahead. There were 6 rapids in pretty quick succession. After powering through the first 2, we had to pull over and tie up to be on safety watch for the other rafts going down. This was good practice, but we had to do it repeatedly and each time was like 10-15 minutes long. It really interrupted the flow of the trip. It seemed a bit overly cautious, so we were all wondering if there’d been some kind of major accident.
The rapids in the chief section were pretty extreme and definitely gave me a rush. It would’ve been nice to run them back to back to really feel it. Our guide said our line was perfect and then admitted it was a redemption run for him because his raft flipped the day before. Clutch. Also, smart to withhold that info until afterward.
The big finale of the ride was going through a 200m tunnel (super sweet and unique) right out onto the last rapid, “Cascade,” which was a 7m drop.
That was a fun spell. I actually thought the drop was going to be crazier but it was all good.
At the end, me, Zack and Hannah talked it over. We were a little underwhelmed overall. In total we were on the river for about 2hrs but 30 minutes or more was spent pulled over waiting. There were only around 12-15 rapids in all over that whole time. Plus, they didn’t allow GoPros and didn’t take any pictures of their own, which was a service they said they provided. Mildly disappointing not having any evidence of the journey. For me at least, the Tongariro rafting was a better experience in even though the rapids were smaller. One man’s jaded opinion.
Bandana Bros
Back in town, we found some lunch and ate by the water. There was no rush. We had a 2.5hr drive to Te Anau but nothing planned for the evening.
On the way, we stopped at Amisfield Winery which had a good reputation. We were comically underdressed but still got a tasting. Another solid Pinot Noir. Z&H enjoyed a glass as we chilled outside on their sweet ass patio.
Views
Vino
Vines
I also forgot how nice the drive out of Queenstown was. Whoever planned the roads wrapping along the mountains right next to the water was smart. I suppose that’s the easiest way to do it, but I still appreciate it.
Car Napping Like a Boss
After a bit of chatting and some more car naps, we got to Te Anau. We topped up our groceries in preparation for our trip to Milford the next day. Then we went to check into the hostel. I was staying in a dorm the first night and then we were all staying together the second night.
That’s how it was supposed to be.
During preparation, our plans moved around a little bit and in redoing the reservation, I made it for the wrong day like a dummy. Oops. I had a feeling about it earlier in the day too.
There was no vacancy at any of the affordable places in town either. Screwed the pooch. Thankfully, Z&H let me stay on the floor in their room.
It was an early wake up call too — our shuttle was leaving at 6:30am the next day.
I waited at the rental car counter for an hour. I was anxious because I had to drive back to the city to get my bags and then back out to the airport to scoop my people. They were already delayed a few hours so I couldn’t be late.
I was told the car was ready over the phone so didn’t expect such a long wait. Should’ve known. It seemed like the place only hired 12 year old blonde girls. I don’t necessarily have a problem with that as long as there’s enough on staff to see to the high volume of customers.
I got it, got my bags and got Zack and Hannah from the airport. Then we were off.
Our itinerary was pretty well planned out. At least our evening destinations were all booked, as well as a few excursions.
Our Loop Around New Zealand
Day 1 – Driving to Twizel
It was about a 4hr drive from Christchurch to Twizel (‘i’ as a ‘y’ sound).
The best part was coming over a hill to see Lake Tekapo with Mt. Cook and a few others in the background.
Lake Tekapo and Mt. Cook
We found a scenic lookout to pull over and snap some photos.
“It’s gonna be a gudday, mate.”
-Zack McDowell
And it was. We picked up some groceries for dinner and the next few days.
We were staying at an AirBnB that turned out to be epic. It was set up to be a ski lodge for a large group. Seemed a bit wasted on the 3 of us but no matter. We made a nice dinner and took advantage of the fire place and comfy sofas. Funny to think that we were probably knocking out our nicest accommodation on the first night. Oh well.
Z&H stayed up late enough for us to enjoy the digs (and hopefully avoid any major jet lag).
Day 2 – Our First Hike and the Drive to Wanaka
I left my shampoo behind. End of the highlights. (Wordplay)
Nah. We made a decent breakfast and packed up.
It was a 45 minute lakeside drive out to Mt. Cook. We were doing the Hooker Valley Track, which was an easy 3hr walk. I had found it on a top 10 list of things to do on the South Island. Boom. Poles and rain jackets were at the ready.
It was another well-kept track, but definitely the most crowded I’d walked in NZ.
Zack & Hannah at Mueller Lake
Mt. Cook was used as Mordor in Lord of the Rings and you could definitely see it. It was a gloomy day and the damp greenery combined with murky water made for a dramatic setting.
Hooker Lake
Mt. Cook
Swing Bridge
Even with the heavy dose of picture breaks, we made it back to the car in 3 hours. We gobbled down lunch and hit the road again. Off to Wanaka.
We had some good car conversation before Zack and Hannah dozed off. This would become a recurring theme. I will acquire photos.
The thing about New Zealand is, there are some stretches of road without a service station for a while. I knew this and had already had a low fuel scare so I was looking to play it safe.
Shortly into our drive we passed a small town and a sign that had distances for a mountain pass and the next two townships we’d be passing. No problem. There’s gotta be another small place with fuel before the climb up the pass.
Spoilers: There wasn’t.
After we’d gone about 30km and most of the way up Lindis Pass, the fuel light came on.
Not again, you dummy. Playing it safe usually means being overly cautious. So by ‘safe,’ I meant living on the edge.
I waited a bit for the other two to wake up. I didn’t want to worry them, but at some point I’d have to come clean.
We were all holding our breath. I coasted down the mountain so hard. I was acting like the gas pedal didn’t exist. Camper vans and trucks were whizzing past us.
We got down the mountain and kept hoping the next town would be around every corner.
Spoilers: It wasn’t.
There weren’t even signs updating us on how much farther we had to go. I was sure we’d be sputtering to a halt and flagging someone down any minute. The math in my head was telling me we’d gone almost 80km to whatever town was on the last sign.
Finally, we saw a community center. Where there’s enough civilization to warrant a community center, surely there must also be petrol. Shortly up the road we got to the country store that had it. Insane! No doubt we were rolling up on fumes.
Of course we had to go through the whole rigmarole of the payment station not accepting our cards. The clerk was closing up shop but allowed us to use her card in exchange for cash. I still don’t know why foreign cards don’t work at those things.
Either way, the important part is that we got our desperation gas and were able to carry on relatively unscathed.
By the time we got to Wanaka it was raining pretty heavily. Conditions made the tree in the lake a bit less picturesque, unfortunately.
After a brief stop to see it, we went to settle in and clean up at our respective hostels.
We had enough time to get to Rhyme & Reason Brewery before they closed. Zack enjoyed a tasting tray and ended up buying a bottle. Then we had to solve the age old dilemma of where to eat dinner. We ended up picking The Federal Diner, which was hidden down an alley way but likely the best meal we had the whole trip. Spirits were high. It was a good night and we were ready for the next adventure.
Rhyme & Reason Brewery
The Federal Diner
I was on the way back to my hostel when I got a message from Ellen, the Swedish lass I met up with back in Picton. She was also in Wanaka and looking for something to do.
I joined her for a walk around the town, which was silent. After chatting for a while, I invited her to join us on our activities the following day and through to Queenstown. She was interested and said she’d let me know.
Before bed, I got a message saying she was in.
Day 3 – Diamond Lake, Free Wine and onto Queenstown
We convened for breakfast in the morning. I quickly learned how important coffee is to Zack and Hannah’s daily routine. They got the goods.
Next, we went to the i-Site to sort out which walk we were going to do. There were so many in the area that it was difficult to decide.
Once we had our plan of attack we picked up Ellen. The track was just a short drive out of town so getting there was quick. We got a good start and the walk was awesome.
Another 3 hour track – Diamond Lake to Rocky Mountain Summit. There was a little bit of a climb but nothing too serious. There were several viewpoints looking back toward Wanaka over the lake and land. Rather spectacular for how little we worked for it.
Behold Wanaka
A Man & His View
Tools of Ascension
Contemplative Hannah
On our way out, we stopped at Rippon Vineyards. It was supposed to have good wine and awesome views, which it did. They were setting up for a wedding though. The venue price for this place must’ve been a pretty penny. I mean, seriously. The tasting room was still open, however, and the wine tasting was free/donation-based…toight.
Rippon Vineyard
Pinot Noir is the main grape grown in the Otago region. That worked because in the rare event that I’m drinking wine over beer, I do prefer reds. They did have this one that was a rare white grape that barely anybody in the world produces – Osteiner, I think. The bartender said that it was cheap but it might’ve been my favorite. No surprise with my simple palate.
After taking in the wine and the views, we ate lunch on the grounds. We literally sat on the ground and made sandwiches. Then we drove through to Queenstown.
Zack was geeking out on the approach. To be fair, driving through Frankton is extremely pretty with the way the houses are stacked up onto Lake Wakatipu.
We dropped Ellen off at her hostel and checked into ours. It was nice getting there in the late afternoon so we had some time to wander around.
I’d been around Queenstown enough during my previous visit to act as a de facto tour guide.
Tacos on a Boat
We got some delicious tacos and ate them on a floating boat bar. Zack geeked out again — I believe saying it was the coolest thing he’s ever done? Don’t get me wrong, Perky’s is moored right on the water in the middle of the city. The views were pretty exceptional. But, the fact that the boat had a bathroom on board took it over the top for Zack.
We were getting into a really good pocket of conversation when two young, insanely drunk local dudes came up and forced themselves onto our table.
One of them was somehow Brazilian, Japanese and Kiwi…with purple hair. We weren’t really sure how to parse that all out but he did a lot of talking and clearly had the whole world figured out. Told us some tale of his friend getting stabbed with a screwdriver.
The other guy was incoherent, from Punjab and dropped my camera.
It was an agonizing and endless waiting game for them to finish their drinks and move on. Somehow, we all endured and told them we were heading back to our rooms.
I checked my camera and noticed the viewfinder was no longer focusing. That really capped off the encounter. I later found out there was a diode I could adjust to dial it back in to be usable.
In the moment though, we were all bitter. That ignited a spark to go for another beverage.
We met up with Ellen at a western-themed bar called Cowboys, mainly because they had tabletop shuffleboard.
That dumbass experience was still in the back of my mind, plus karaoke was happening which was grating. Although the guys were killing it, honestly. One dude did like a 3-song set of 90s rap — “No Diggity” being the highlight.
We crushed some games and beers and moved onto another bar that I knew had cheap drinks. It just so happened that the terribles were also there. Thankfully they were too drunk to notice us so we skated by and had a few more beverages.
To end the night, we got Fergburger. It’s a Queenstown institution that usually has an insane line all the time. We got there and felt it was destiny because there wasn’t one. I heard a local walk past and say “Never seen that before,” in her amazing accent.
It’s tough to conclude whether the burgers are amazing or not under the circumstances. Regardless, it hit the spot and was a good way to conclude the evening.
The next day we had a summit to tackle. Depending.
After a freezing night of sleeping in my car, I was onto another freezing activity: checking out some glaciers.
Sadly, because of global warming they’ve been receding at an insane rate. The only way to actually get on them is to helicopter and I wasn’t coughing up the funds for that. Instead I was planning to do a few short walks around them.
The Franz Josef valley was pretty insane looking. Clouds had descended (shockingly) and were creating a very moody setting. The main track was really easy; navigating the people was the hardest part. A ton of tourists. And as a fun note, I saw a woman wearing suede heals on the path. Clever choice. I see you, girl.
Franz Josef Valley
I think the closest you could get was 750m, so that was a bit underwhelming. I found the surroundings to be the coolest part. There was a good number of rocky peaks and waterfalls streaming off the side of the nearby mountains. Plus with a low cloud ceiling, it felt like I was in Jurassic Park.
I took my time walking back. Fox Glacier was only about a half hour down the road so there was no hurry. I later found out that the road to access that glacier was closed due to a landslide anyway. I guess once you’ve seen one glacier from afar you’ve seen them all? I was ok moving on.
Walking into Franz Josef Valley
Next on my agenda was hiking the Copland Track. It was a 2-day out and back of moderate difficulty. The main attractions were natural hot pools near the hut and swing bridges. It was also on my way south, so that didn’t hurt either.
I found a cheap place with a shower and kitchen so I could sort out my supplies and get clean. I repacked my bag for the two days, got all of my food made and turned in so I could get an early start.
In the morning, it was a quick drive to the start of the track. The parking lot was pretty full which was surprising. I found that all 31 spots at the hut were full the previous night. Kind of unheard of on a non-great walk track, though a good sign that this one was worth the effort.
I saw two guys getting started as I parked and gathered my stuff.
Basically right at the beginning of the walk you come upon large stream. Normally it’s probably not that high, but because of all the rain it was definitely an obstacle.
Similar to the Awaroa Inlet from Abel Tasman, there were several areas of water that were about ankle-deep and 10-15 feet wide. There were some spots where you could get about halfway across before getting stuck.
I stood there for 15 minutes like an idiot, getting bitten by sandflies, trying to figure out what the best plan of attack was. I tried moving some rocks around to make my own path. That wasn’t really doing the trick.
Two other hikers came along and briefly debated also. One guy, some super intense Dutch guy who had gaiters on, more or less waded across immediately. The other person took their shoes off and rolled up their pants.
Bleh. I didn’t want to get my feet wet so early but that was the only viable solution. The water was frigid and rocks sharp. Apparently I only walk on pillows because the bottoms of my feet are not tough. That mess hurt.
Copland Gorge Portrait
I made it across eventually and got my shoes and socks back on. I walked solo for about three hours. The scenery was kind of sweet; there was a nice variety. Eroding cliffs, calm clearings, several other stream crossings and rock hopping along a powerful river.
A little over halfway I reached a paddock where two other hikers had stopped for lunch. I set up shop there as well. The sun was out which was a new experience. It was a perfect spot to recharge the batteries for the rest of the walk.
Those two guys ventured on while I finished my food and relaxation. As I was getting back on the path I met up with the person I crossed the first stream with, Morgan from Reunion Island. We walked the rest of the way together and chatted.
We also got to share the experience of the two gnarly swing bridges. I mean, we had to go one at a time, but it was pretty insane.
The second half of the day was much more demanding walking. Steeper and more important where you were putting your foot. Then out of nowhere we arrived at the hut. It was in a serene valley looking right at the southern alps. Absolutely awesome spot. The best part is that it was only 3:30pm so we had plenty of time to take a load off.
Welcome Flat Hut
We sat down inside with the two guys from the lunch paddock, a Kiwi named Paul and a French-Canadian named Keran. After a snack, we all went to have a soak in the natural hot pools that were 100m away.
Welcome Flat Hot Pools
Epic. Our very own geothermal jacuzzi. Amazing for the muscles. I stepped in one of the tributaries leading into the pools and nearly burnt my foot off. Two of the three pools were maybe a little too hot, which is saying something. They were all really shallow so you had to kind of get horizontal and comfortable with the weird muddy bottom. Also submerging as much of your body as possible helped keep the sandflies away. But you couldn’t dunk your head under for fear of amoebic meningitis. Unfamiliar with what that is but not interested in finding out.
The four of us sat for a while and chatted. It was incredible to relax in that setting with that view. A few groups came and went as we stayed there pruning up hardcore.
We got back inside for our “safety talk” by the hut warden, whose barn burner of an opener was, “Welcome to Welcome Flat Hut.” After that, everybody pretty much just sat around and chatted for a while before going to bed early. The majority of the huts along the walks aren’t powered, so once it gets dark there’s not much going on.
The night sky was great but I couldn’t be bothered to deal with taking a long exposure. I should have. The image will stay in my brain for a little while longer at least.
In the morning, our impromptu group agreed to walk down together. We got a bit of a late start after they took another dip in the hot pools and I snagged some photos.
We were crushing the return journey even though it was a complicated descent at times. By hour four of our breakneck pace my left knee was in forfeit mode. I started falling behind even though we didn’t have all that much left.
I hobbled back across the creek and to the finish line as the rain began again.
Overall, it was probably the best hiking experience I’ve had in New Zealand. The hut was picturesque and having the hot pools right there was unbeatable. I’ve since invested in walking poles to hopefully alleviate some of the burden on my ancient leg hinges. We’ll see if they help. Please.
The rest of my adventure was going to be significantly different from the first bit.
For starters, I was going to be seeing an all new part of the country…obviously. But the main thing of note was that I got a rental car.
Mazda Premacy
Game changer.
Flexibility. Travel mates. Getting off the beaten path. Shelter.
From Abel Tasman, I hitched a ride to the Nelson airport in 3 phases:
To Motueka with a roommate from my hostel.
For like a mile with possibly the most attractive girl I’ve seen in NZ (she took me closer to the prime hitchhiking spot).
Finally, with a 70+ year old Dutchman who took us on a detour through Mapua for coffee.
I picked up the car and I was feeling so good. It was also such a beautiful day out that it’d be hard to be in a bad mood.
Straight away, I went to grab some supplies. The car was pricy so my plan was to save money by stocking up on food and sleeping in the car/camping as much as possible.
There’s this store kind of similar to Walmart called The Warehouse. Everything is super cheap. I snagged some cutlery, tupperware, a cooler bag and some other odds and ends. Then I went grocery shopping.
Boom. I was on my way to the West Coast.
The drive was actually unremarkable in the beginning — pretty typical farmland and countryside. I started to hit some gorges and interesting valleys right when it got dark, so that was kind of a bummer.
I arrived in Westport at about 10pm and was really looking forward to the coming few days.
Cue another rainy day.
I took that as a sign and decided to catch up on some admin type stuff. I went to the library since the hostels in small towns don’t usually have unlimited, consistent internet.
Westport Library
I was just getting into a state of flow when the library closed. It was 1pm on a Saturday. A lot of stores and restaurants will shut down at 3pm on the weekends. That’s a random bit of culture shock I’ve noticed — shops willing to close during prime money-making hours. I mean, fair enough. I cherish my free time as well.
Since it was still raining out and I wanted to keep taking advantage of that sweet, sweet bandwidth, I drove the car and parked it outside of the library. Still in range to mooch. Resume browsing.
After like two hours of sitting there, I realized I left the lights on so the battery was dead. Ya dumb dummy. I had a car again for barely 24 hours.
I got the kind hostelkeeper to drive down and give me a jump. Except the jumper cables weren’t working so I had to leave it overnight. Not a huge deal; it got sorted in the morning.
As I was preparing to check out in the morning, my roommate, a French guy named Alex, asked what my plans were. He was interested in going the same way that I was, but didn’t have much of a plan. How laissez-faire of him. I invited him to tag along being that company on walks is nice and all. His accent was tough to understand at times, but we got by.
I’m just going to rapid fire what we did because I don’t want to write a novella and you don’t want to read it.
The skies cleared as we did the Charming Creek Walkway over some old mining cart paths and a swing bridge to a pretty waterfall.
Hiked a 3 hour loop track in some heavy bush and mud to do some unguided exploring in the Fenian Caves. Headlamps were required.
Got greeted by a random Kiwi guy when we returned to the car. He told us most of his life story in a few minutes. Apparently he became a pseudo-famous photographer in Japan some years back. (If you’re interested in finding someone to follow, and then later unfollow, check him out on Instagram @pauljohnmurray)
Dropped Alex off to stay at basically the only backpackers in Karma
Drove up to literally the end of the road and camped at Kohaihai. Awesome sunset and outrageous seas.
Picked up Alex in the morning and backtracked to the Oparara Basin
Did a few small walks to see two natural limestone arches and the whiskey-colored river. A bit underwhelming.
Spent an absurd amount of money on petrol. It is absurd.
Drove back through Westport (131km).
Stopped at Cape Foulwind to eat lunch and see the lighthouse/views.
Went to Tauranga Bay to scope the seal colony.
Drove to Punakaiki (59km).
Walked the Truman Track to check out some more crazy seas.
Explored the Pancake Rocks and Blowholes while watching the sun set. Pretty epic.
Went to the tavern for dinner and a beer.
Camped at the only place we could find.
Left to Right: Fenian Caves, Kohaihai Beach, Moria Gate Arch
Tauranga Bay Pano
Punakaiki Sunset
It was a jam-packed two days. Alex woke up early to hitchhike and meet up with a travel mate so I was back to riding solo. It actually came at a good time. Getting to know other travelers is a valuable experience, but sometimes I just want to turn on some music and cruise in the sunshine while new scenery whips past. That’s what I love about road trips and that’s what I was ready for. It was a great day for it as well.
I went back to the Pancake Rocks to get another look before hitting the road. Most of the drive was along the coast and it was gorgeous. Very reminiscent of the California PCH; seeing the waves crash onto the rocks as the road curves up and down the mountains, hugging the edge.
It was only a 40 minute drive to the next town but it was pleasant enough to replenish a few soul points.
Monteith’s
My plan was to pit stop and use the i-Site to set up an itinerary of must-dos around Greymouth and Hokitika. The weather was so perfect, and I heard tell of a beer scene, that I decided to stay.
I wandered around the CBD and did part of the flood wall walk. Then I set up shop in the brewery.
I feel a little bad. But should I? It’s complicated.
Was it my fault for putting him through the ringer? Do I blame the lady at the i-Site for pointing me in this direction? Ugh.
These were the thoughts going through my head as we were laying out all of our belongings on a deck to dry off in the sun.
Rewind a few days to me devising a plan to conquer Abel Tasman National Park. I’ve heard it’s one of the best places to see in New Zealand. “So beautiful,” everyone says.
With all the hype, I wanted to get as much out of it as possible.
It’s one of the New Zealand great walks, 51km (32 miles) across 3-5 days depending on your pace. The huts along the track are $75 to stay in though. And they’re the most basic accommodation – no power, no cooking, no showers; just a thin mattress under a roof. Campsites were $30, so that was my play. Still pretty steep, but more manageable.
The thing was, I didn’t want to walk the entire track. I mean, I have the knees of a 65 year old. I’m not sure I could do it in consecutive days even though it wasn’t an intense grade. Plus, there were some awesome kayaking opportunities along the coast that I wanted to hit up.
Abel Tasman Route
I went to the Nelson i-Site and got some advice from one of the staff members. Take a water taxi up to one of the highest points the first day, do a loop walk, camp, do a one-day guided kayak, camp, then walk out. A pretty nice combination of everything. Sounded perfect.
Then I got a Facebook message from Jonathan, a Canadian traveler I rafted with in Taupo, asking what my upcoming plans were. I told him the route I was looking at and invited him along. Significantly more fun to have company on a multi-day trek anyhow.
To my surprise, he’s down to join. Sweet.
I met up with him in Nelson after I left Pete and Kyra’s and we miraculously hitched ourselves to a hostel right at the start of the track (which honestly is not that close to anything). There was no cellular service and the wifi allotment from the backpackers was 100MB/day. A bit laughable.
I repacked my bag, prepared my food and got ready for the epic journey.
Jonathan looked at the weather forecast and started getting nervous.
Him: “It’s supposed to rain 9mm tomorrow.”
Me: “Is that a lot?”
This whole imperial vs. metric system issue is 100% confusing. My scale for everything — temperature, distance, weight — is completely off.
The important bit I gathered was a high probability of precipitation.
Ok. Well, everything was already planned, so we’ll just deal with it as it comes.
I didn’t have a traditional rain cover for my pack so I borrowed a garbage bag and fashioned a poncho-type thing just in case.
We woke up early in the morning and went to catch our water taxi at the kayaking company we were using. It wasn’t raining which seemed like a good omen.
Such a pleasant boat ride out to the starting point, too. We made a few stops along the way to drop off the kayak group for that day. Then it was just me, Jonathan and the skipper, Justin. He did his best to get us to a spot where we wouldn’t have to get our feet wet. We disembarked the boat safely but had to cross a stream over a sand dune anyway so the shoes still had to come off.
Anyway, it was really working out. We were crushing our walk under some moderate cover and it still wasn’t raining. The sun actually peaked out a few times. There were some nice lookouts and we even decided to do a side path that took us out to Separation Point to see some seals.
There’s a Seal Down There
Shortly thereafter, we arrived at the first main checkpoint, Wharawharangi (roughly halfway). We stopped to have lunch and take a breather. We were harassed through the entire meal by some pesky Wekas — a flightless bird that’s always trying to knick some food.
As we packed up and got ready to move on, we were feeling good. There was about another 4-5hrs before we would arrive at our campsite. Manageable. The sign directing us made it seem like it’d be smooth sailing as well. Less kms than our previous leg and less time. No problem.
This was blatantly not the case.
First off, this is when it started to rain. It was only a sprinkle but we decided to activate our rain gear. Jonathan was well prepared with a cover for his pack and an umbrella. I had my Gore-Tex jacket and my bag poncho.
Feeble attempts.
I was convinced that even if it started to pour, we would be mostly under a canopy based on the type of path we’d been on all day. Again, not the case.
As the rain increased, so did the openness of the track. We were fully in the elements. It was the hardest rain I’ve seen in New Zealand to date. Reminiscent of a Virginia thunderstorm, except it lasted for 7+ hours.
No wonder everything is so green here.
And of course, instead of an easy walk that we could power through, it was an insane climb. Gibbs Hill is a son of a bitch. It wasn’t so much a path as it was a steep wash out. After being continually defeated and disheartened, we made it to the peak. We stopped long enough to appreciate how awesome the view would’ve been in good weather and forged ahead.
We were convinced there was a hut an hour away from our campsite that we could take refuge in — sit next to the fire to dry out for a minute. This was our pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It was what we needed. What we were looking forward to.
Then we got to Totaranui after another three hours of walking to discover nope. There was not a hut with a cozy, warm fire. No comfy chair with hot chocolate. No toasty socks to put back on.
“Yeah, nah,” as the Kiwis would say.
The check-in office was even closed. The best we had was a cooking shelter with two open walls. Better than nothing to get out of the rain for a bit.
Now, it was decision time.
There was no way we were camping in the wet, cold rain. The dilemma came in the form of staying there under a pop-up tent that would loosely act as a reprieve from the rain (and getting up super early to make up the extra distance to meet our kayak crew in the morning) or continuing on for another two hours to an actual hut. The upside was, of course, the fire and warmth. And being able to sleep in a little bit since it was closer to the rendezvous point.
The major downside was that we would have to cross the Awaroa inlet. The only way to do so was within two hours of low tide.
We didn’t have that information because we weren’t planning on going that far. Ooof. And there was very fleeting cell service to try and pull it up.
Luckily, I was able to get a sliver of a bar and find the details. It was 7pm and low tide was at 8:13pm. It would be dark, but if we hustled we could make it happen.
The fire. It was everything. The primary motivation. As wet as my feet were and as much as my back hurt, I felt like I could power through because of that prospect.
So on we went into the night. The rain eased up at points, giving a false sense of hope. It wouldn’t stop for several hours yet.
After busting out the headlight and forcing ourselves over some more switchbacks, we came to the inlet. The other side of the track was probably a little longer than a football field away. We were meant to look for a big orange marker to direct us. We didn’t calculate how impossible it would be to see that in the dark. Shit.
It seemed like there was a light off in the distance, so that’s what we headed for.
Then we encountered the obstacle of the tidal crossing. There were probably 6-8 pockets of water that were knee to ankle deep and a few feet wide. Couldn’t see any areas narrow enough to jump over and didn’t really have enough time to go searching. We had been warned that the tide could get up to 7 knots rushing in or out. There was no turning back now.
I just went for it. I didn’t bother to take my socks or shoes off. I was just wading through the ice cold water, semi-directionless. Jonathan took his shoes off, braving the minefield of rocks and shells.
We kept aiming for the dim light, and thankfully, that paid off.
As we got closer, we noticed it was moving — a headlamp from someone at the hut.
Salvation. We made it.
We climbed the three steps up to the porch and saw some blissful flames through the window. Yes, please.
First, I had to rinse out the pebbles and immense amount of sand in my shoes and socks.
The other hikers were shocked that we were just arriving. They also warned us of how strict the warden was. Remember, we had a campsite reservation that was $45 cheaper than the hut fee. Ugh. The last thing I wanted to deal with was a callous park ranger. Whatever.
I started to unpack dinner and a change of clothes and realized basically everything in my bag was soaked. The poncho did it’s job for the top of the pack but it didn’t cover my tent, which was strapped to the bottom. Moisture seeped up from there and reached almost everything. My sleeping bag, camera equipment, and clothes were all wet. Dammit.
I spent like an hour and a half standing next to the fire holding up various articles of clothing. I set my shoes right next to the wood stove hoping they’d be dry enough by morning. I was completely exhausted.
Hooray for moderately shitty but dry sleeping conditions!
By the time Jonathan and I left in the morning, most things were only damp and we escaped an encounter with the warden. But, I left behind my favorite shirt absent-mindedly. I’ll take the tradeoff, I suppose.
We left the hut at 8:50am for what we thought was a 30 minute walk to meet our kayaking group by 9:30am.
There was a point where we should’ve turned left to take the beachside pathway. Instead, we turned right on the 1hr45min track.
Whoops.
After climbing for 20 minutes we realized our mistake but didn’t have much of a choice but to continue, We ran, which is next to impossible after you’ve spent like 11 hours walking the day before. We stumbled onto the beach just as three kayaks were paddling away. It was 9:33am.
This can’t be happening.
Surely, they would’ve waited 5 minutes for us to show up.
I waited on the beach as Jonathan went up to the lodge to check. He came back and said we were at the wrong beach.
I was like THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY. And he was like, yeah, I’m playing. They’re just running really late.
Phew.
We saw Justin and his boat turn the corner into the bay. All was well. And it got better when the guide got off to great us. Nicole. “Holy smokes,” as Jonathan would say.
The remote coast kayaking trip we went on was pretty sick.
Kayaks in Shag Harbour
It was a small group of 6 people across 3 kayaks, plus Nicole riding solo. She told us the story of Abel Tasman as we got our bearings. Over the course of the day, we saw some seals and sting rays, had lunch in a beautiful harbor, and even used our picnic blanket as a sail for part of the way. It was a lovely contrast to the previous day.
At the end of the trip it was time to decide if Jonathan and I were going to camp for the night and walk out the next day or head back to dry off our stuff. It was a really tough call. The weather had turned nice and the camp site was basically right on the beach in an amazing bay. Plus, we were feeling good after such an awesome kayaking trip.
We decided to stay.
After setting up our tents and exploring a bit of the area, we made a fire and checked in with the warden. We were joined by a Belgian and French guy and shared stories throughout the evening. Once the fire died down we called it a night.
I fell asleep pretty quickly. Around 2am I started waking up every 15 minutes because of how freezing it was. The weather turned and I was in such a shitty tent. I knew it was cheap going in, but I was hoping the quality of my sleeping bag would save me. Unfortunately not. Then around 4am it started raining.
Cool.
I got up for good at 7:30am and started to pack up my tent in the drizzle. It was almost impossible to pry myself out of the lukewarm cocoon I made. But we had to start walking at 9am to ensure we would make another tidal crossing farther down the way. Jonathan surfaced when I was almost finished packing up. I saw a finger and an eyeball poking out of a small unzipping in his tent.
Apparently he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him the night before. Nature of the beast packing food for multiple days, I suppose. He tried to sleep it off for a little bit longer. I waited in the food shelter shivering, hoping the small pockets of blue would fill the whole sky.
Getting a later start wasn’t a total dealbreaker. It just meant we’d have to take the high tide track which added another hour and a half of walking.
When Jonathan came out again, he just wanted to go back. That was fine by me. The weather was starting to clear up, but another 7 hours of walking did seem daunting.
Justin came back and shipped us home. By the time we re-checked into the hostel, the sun was shining and it was gorgeous.
That brings us back to the part where we were laying out everything in our bags on the deck. It looked like a shantytown. And thus, I was contemplating if I should apologize to Jonathan for bringing him along.
He actually thanked me for inviting him.It was a challenging time, character building, with some brilliance mixed in (Nicole).
In that moment, being able to lay in the sun was kind of euphoric. Also, Cup O’ Noodles never tasted so good.
Why couldn’t there be a three and a half hour boat ride that was worth taking?
Oh wait. There was.
The ferry from Wellington to Picton was gorgeous. I’m pretty sure there was land in sight the whole time. And it was particularly beautiful once we got into the Marlborough Sounds. Very reminiscent of scooting around the islands around Seattle.
Ferry to Picton
There were some stunning bays/lagoons, a few large fishing areas, and plenty of boats out.
I can’t stress how impeccable the weather was. Especially considering that it’s absolutely pissing outside as I write this.
I boarded the ferry in Rob’s camper van (the German from Paihia and Taupo). Once we docked, we had a mission to get more information about the main reason we were there: to hike part of the Queen Charlotte Track. In its entirety it would take 3-5 days (70km), so we were only looking to do a portion.
We drove straight to the i-Site (helpful info centers they have all over the country). We found out that we basically had two options…to start from the beginning and get an hour-long water taxi out to a 15km section of track OR have a shorter boat ride to do a 25km stretch with ridgeline walking and 360º views. The first option was substantially cheaper based on a deal we found. It was a real toss up. People kept saying ridgeline walking and 360º views — I can’t reiterate this enough. So that’s what we went with.
The yellow was our track
Fast forward 24 hours and I found myself a touch disappointed and sporting a major calf strain. 25km of walking is pretty extreme. Also, the “ridgeline” walking with “360º views” was an oversell. The vast majority of the track was covered and there was only one lookout with maybe 270º views.
Me at Eatwells Lookout
It’s kind of shitty to be bitter about the experience since it was quite a nice walk and an amazing spectacle at the lookout. The thing that really turned the knife though, was when we were taking the water taxi back to town, we ran into Ellen, a Swede I’d met in Taupo and advised to do the cheap, shorter track.
Her and her walking mate saw dolphins and penguins on their water taxi, enjoyed an easy grade and had enough time to go swimming in a lagoon before boarding the boat home.
Damn.
Dolphins have been my white whale while in NZ. I mean, I guess whales have been too. Really all unique marine life, apart from seals and sting rays. Seals are a dime a dozen and I got stung by a ray back in San Diego so they can eff off for a while.
After getting over my bitterness, I had a soak in my hostel’s pseudo-warm tub. Rob was going to leave town but decided to stay to give the girls a ride to Nelson the following day. We then went over to their hostel and hung around in their scalding tub. It’s interesting that they can’t nail that temperature down.
Eventually a group assembled to go out for a beverage on a Monday night in Picton. First off, we all forgot/didn’t realize that it was a country-wide holiday (Labor Day). Secondly, Picton, while charming and cozy, only has about two streets. We walked around for all of five minutes before realizing we were going to have tough luck. Me and another American found a cafe that was in the process of closing up but willing to accommodate us for one beer. Fun times.
Then there were cartwheels in the street, singing under a memorial and talk of skinny dipping that never happened. It was a ghost town. Nice to follow up all the physical exertion with some socializing though.
Next up for me was, aside from hoping my legs would work again, catching a bus to Nelson and meeting my next Workaway host.
The last three days have been a complete blur. Things progressed quickly.
Keep Taupo Flawless
So quickly that this is the only picture I have of Taupo; which is a lovely town nestled on a lake with some stunning views.
Upon arrival, I checked into my hostel, settled in a little bit and made arrangements to do the Tongariro Alpine Crossing the next day. It’s a 6-8 hour trek and on several top 10 lists of best walking tracks in the world. I’d been highly anticipating it, following the forecast for over a week. It snowed within the last few days, and temperatures were as low as -14 C at night. Wild. There were some deaths recently as well, so it was kind of vital to pick a good spot. It was lookinggood, so I reserved a place on the morning shuttle (5:20am pick up — yowzers) and even convinced an Irish girl checking in to pull the trigger as well.
After that was all settled, I went to meet up with Rob, a German traveler I met back in Paihia. He was on his way out of town later in the day but we strolled around the lake. We had a solid chat about our respective careers and how difficult it is to manage multiple social media platforms while on the road. We made plans to reconvene in Wellington and ferry over to the South Island together on the weekend.
After we parted ways, I went grocery shopping for the first time while here. It made me feel like a true traveler but I went overboard and it still didn’t really save me from spending money on beer so it’s a work in progress.
I prepared lunch and snacks to take on the walk and fixed myself dinner. I’m appreciating the communal tables at hostels because it encourages socializing. Had a decent chat with a small group of people and then went back to my room to pack my bag for the hike. It was only 9:30pm but there were already two people in bed for the night so now I was the dick making a bunch of disruptive noise with clothing and zipping. Dammit. Did my best to sort it all out so all I had to do was wake up and go.
My god. I slept like dog shit
It was a mixture of anticipation, a rock hard mattress and a fingernail-thin pillow. That alarm was a son of a bitch. Made a bunch more accidental noise before grabbing a quick breakfast and hopping on the shuttle with a handful of other people from the hostel.
It was a long, dark, hour-long ride out to Tongariro National Park. There was kind of a combined air of anxiety and excitement over how challenging the crossing would be. One sure thing was that it was moody as hell with the sun still rising and a layer of clouds being stubborn about burning off.
A small group of 4 assembled as walking partners: myself, Emma, the Irish girl, and Coen and Luuc, two individual travelers both from The Netherlands. We started at a breakneck pace but it was the beginning and the easiest part of the whole track. Gave me a chance to get to know Coen who’s a cool dude.
Beginning of the Crossing
The fog began to clear as everybody’s pace set the order. The first difficult section was an ascent called The Devil’s Staircase. And oof. I started thinking, “Damn, we’re this close to the beginning and my legs are already wobbly. Probably dehydrated. Not smart on my part. Oops. Oh great, only 14 more kilometers to go.” Tight.
We died a few times. Then we climbed some more. Then we made excuses to take a break — gotta put on sunscreen real quick. Then we climbed some more. Hey, need to pull over to shed some layers. Climb. Water? Good idea. Climb. Contemplate life choices. Climb.
Snow Valley Pano
Fiiiiiinally.
Oh shit, this isn’t even the summit. But at least it was a simpler stretch of track. And actually a stellar valley of snow nestled between two giant mountains. It was interesting to see the silhouettes of a few people up in the distance against a white backdrop. Breathtaking.
Next was another challenging, but thankfully shorter, ascent up a slippery embankment. I’d get to a point where I didn’t think my legs could lift high enough to reach the foot hold, then slip a little, catch myself, and keep going.
Tongariro Summit
Out of breath. All kinds of back sweat. Straight knackered and heavily in need of a snack.
It was the summit at last. To the right – Mt. Doom from Lord of the Rings; in front – a red crater; to the left – a hairy downhill of snow and loose gravel reaching a silky blue sulfur lake…called Blue Lake. It was one of those euphoric sights where you have to mind your emotions as to not be too giddy.
I mean, that’s how I live. You’ve met me.
Me at the Summit
Also, one misstep and you’d be sliding a few thousand feet into a crater, so yeah. Plus I already climbed my ass off and I didn’t have a spare one in my backpack.
It was really dicey on the way down to the lake. I felt like I was skiing with the amount of skidding and carving I was doing to remain upright. Intense.
Again, the view down there was amazing. The smell on the other hand was brutal. Take about a thousand rotten eggs (or just one of my farts) and that was it. Surprisingly, the setting was enough to make you forget about the stench.
Reflection in Blue Lake
Everything was beautiful. And then it was time to climb another snowy hill toward the long descent. It was about a three-hour journey down a windy path. There were a few parts where we had to go up some stairs and my hamstrings were just like fuck you, man.
A quad cramp. A sandwich. And about 15,000 steps later, we were at the bottom.
I cracked a beer that I carried all 19.4km and still had enough energy to survive every jealous look.
On the shuttle ride home pretty much everybody passed out which was funny to witness. So many bobbing heads.
Back at the hostel, the guy at the front desk asked us how it was and all that. Then he’s like, by the way this rafting company called, they’re doing a promotional trip tomorrow and there are still 4 spots available. I was thinking, $15 off isn’t really going to pique my interest, but then he said FREE. Ballin.
It was an all day trip where they’d be shooting a promo video and some pictures. For a moment, I almost declined since it was going to eat up the whole day. That would’ve been monumentally stupid. I signed up and changed my departing bus so I could still do some stuff around town.
Very happy that I did. A fun group of 10 from the hostel went.
Rafting Group
It was just us and our guides, broken into two rafts. There was a third boat floating behind with the photographer and videographer.
We got so lucky. The package we experienced was a $145 value. We did have to slow down or stop a few extra times so they could set up equipment and decide on shots but it was all good. I gave a video testimonial, so we’ll see if I’m in some online promo or brochure some time in the future.
What a day though. The weather was perfect. The water and scenery were spectacular. You could see a ton of trout swimming upstream to spawn. It was beautiful. I think I was the only person that had been rafting before and it was also on level 3 rapids. Such an enjoyable time. I sat in the action seat in the front of the boat for half of the trip and almost got bounced out when we slammed into a rock but that was all part of the fun.
After we finished, we even got taken to a thermal pool to have a soak and then got soup and bread to end the day. Oh, and a free T-shirt and all pictures. What a deal. Made some awesome connections and had a blast.
Bossin Them Level 3s
With my final few hours in town the next day, I decided to rent a mountain bike and ride a Grade 2 trail up to the popular waterfall nearby. It was a three-hour return walk, so I figured by bike I could scoot out there, take some photos and have enough time to enjoy the hot springs before grabbing my stuff and making it to catch my bus.
Welp. I was wrong about that.
Let me reiterate, the mountain bike track was classified as Grade 2. On any scale, that shouldn’t really be a problem. A combination of heavy legs from the crossing, a bike that was shifting whenever it wanted (primarily on uphills), and a seat made of stone and torture, it was quite an embarrassing performance.
Getting out to the falls was ok. I only had one or two points where I had to hop off and get up to the next peak.
This Bitch
The way back was a disaster. There were a few moments where I was worried about missing my bus. At a minimum, having to sit in all my sweat and subject a bus load of people to that for six hours. And possibly have to stand the whole ride because of how punished my cheeks felt.
Thankfully, I had just enough time to bathe in a frenzy and scramble to the stop to find out the bus was delayed by 30 minutes. Lolz.
It was a whirlwind few days in Taupo. A lot of highs and a single low – fuckin bike number 4.
Boarding the bus was a relief because I was ready for a nap. But it was also bittersweet because things had been so solid in this unassuming town.
Regardless, I was off to Wellington to experience some capital city life.
