One year away from home. Actually, a few days longer, but who’s counting?
It was a thrilling prospect before I left. Uncharted territory. Like landing on the moon. Ok. Obviously not that significant. But, still a leap into the unknown. After being gone so long, the concept of home has changed. Life on the road has essentially morphed into my “normal.” So I guess it’s a battle of two adages: “home is where the heart is” or “home is where you hang your hat.” If we’re going by the former, it’s still Richmond. If we’re going by the latter…well, damn. I have been wearing hats a lot. And they’ve been hanging in so many different places. Counting the number of beds I’ve slept in over the past year would take a full day, so we’re going to have to settle for “heaps.”
As a person that loves the order and comfort of my own space, I’ve adapted as well as can be expected to messy hostels, a consistently uninteresting wardrobe, and living out of a backpack. Either I’ve relaxed the desire to control my environment (thus developing lazier habits) or I’m able to recognize that the situation is mostly temporary so I don’t sink effort into changing it for a day. I think my mindset would be different if I knew it was more permanent. The only way to know for sure is to make an assessment after I’ve returned.
By far, the most repetitive conversation I’ve had over my travels is:
What’s your name?
Where are you from?
How long have you been traveling?
Where have you been?
Where are you heading next?
I’ve considered getting the answers tattooed on myself. The frequency is somewhat painful, but it does lead to some worthwhile interactions with fellow travelers. The contacts list in my phone has definitely exploded. To be fair, I’m not communicating with all of them, but there’s about a dozen people I will continue to stay in touch with and likely meet up with again on my journey.
It’s impossible to list the incredible experiences I’ve had during this year abroad. Multi-day excursions, summit views, and activities…or entire locales that have taken me well outside of my comfort zone. As is the case with time, the memories are becoming fuzzier. Is my recall just bad or is it a universal problem for everyone? It seems next to impossible to vividly remember the exact details of a particularly great event. I can pinpoint some of the colors and shapes, but the reason or emotion is harder to summon. Even though they’re not totally gone, losing part of the shine on some these adventures already means it’ll be that much harder to relive in the future. I guess it’s somewhat of a conundrum trying to stack new memories on top of the old ones for fear of completely forgetting the past. Thankfully I can at least retrace the bread crumbs through some pictures and video.
One thing I haven’t grown out of is being a slave to money. I mean, I don’t have a dedicated budget, but I’m constantly choosing the cheapest possible option for almost every meal and accommodation. In retrospect, I think I went too fast and loose in New Zealand and Australia. I told myself before I left that I wouldn’t turn down an experience because of cost and I haven’t necessarily stuck to that principle. Now that I’m in Europe, I’ve got to be much more strategic with spending. Eliminating solo beers and unnecessary trips to the bar has helped. Also, lining up Workaways and housesits keeps the cash from flying out of my pocket.
While the volunteering opportunities have been good for my wallet, they’ve also given me a lot more down time. I’ve noticed a general malaise creeping up recently. I don’t think it’s a lack of energy because I’ve been getting decent sleep in the ever-changing beds. It might be a lack of motivation, though. For the past month or so, I’ve been coasting — very passive about exploring new areas and making decisions that stimulate the soul. I certainly recognize that I’m in a privileged situation to be able to travel like this, so I need to shake it off.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still thoroughly enjoying my time. I haven’t felt an inescapable thrall to return home yet.
Yet.
Perhaps it’s coming. Maybe the lack of lifestyle consistency is starting to take a toll. Or I just need to test the boundaries again. Time to challenge myself again. I’m on a quest for the invigorating and it’s going to be awesome.
We forgot to buy coffee at the grocery store. This was a grievous error.
We were out of bed by 6am, on the bus out to Milford Sound by 6:30am and Zack and Hannah were caffeineless. Danger.
The drive out was actually pretty hilarious because they took like 4 separate naps.
Ethan, our driver, was giving us a commentary on the ride and they missed the majority of that.
We were extremely lucky with the weather we were getting though. We made a pit stop at Mirror Lakes because the conditions were perfect. Such still water, the reflection was pristine.
Mirror Lakes
We also passed by Lake Gunn, which looked even better. Unfortunately, we didn’t stop. I regret not asking him to pull over. It would’ve been an epic picture as the water was reflecting the snow-capped mountains in perfect symmetry. The golden light of the morning also gave an amazing contrast to the blue of the sky and the white of the snow. Man, what a scene.
Next, we pulled off to the side of the road where there was a Kea waiting for us. A kea is an alpine parrot species that’s become a somewhat pesky critter since tourists have been feeding them. They’re pretty cute the way they hop around though.
This one was familiar with Ethan apparently. It greeted everyone kindly, apart from Zack. It didn’t like the cut of his jib I guess and ended up biting his toe. Lolz.
This did not have a lasting effect on Zack as he went back to sleep when we boarded the van again.
After another 20-30 minutes drive we got to Deep Water Basin, where our kayak trip was launching.
Two consecutive days on the water was going to be epic. And the weather was even better than the previous day somehow. That’s really saying something because they get like 200 some days of rain in Milford Sound.
We met our guide, Mossimo, and got outfitted with gear.
The good news: GoPros would be in action. The bad news: the sandflies were absolutely everywhere and eating us to bits.
Once we were on the water it was alright but it was straight brutal beforehand.
Everybody else was coupled up, so I got paired with the only other single person – a girl from Slovakia named Makayla. Our boat fucking killed it too. I was steering in the back and we were in perfect synch. A decent amount of our day was spent waiting for some of the stragglers to catch up.
The water was abnormally calm for the first part of the day and the scenery was epic. It really was a redemption song from my first experience.
About an hour into the paddling, Hannah seemed like she was hitting a wall. Hunger and a lack of coffee was getting the better of her. I looked over at one point and she was draped over the kayak. Seemed dead.
It was a little bit of a stop and start situation again because there was one couple that was always lagging behind. We also had to cross a few boat channels which meant rounding up the group. Honestly, in terms of distance we didn’t make it all that far into the sound. If given the opportunity, I think Makayla and I could’ve seen a decent amount more.
The Dream Team
As the afternoon went on, the wind picked up and the water got more choppy.
The rocky beach where we had lunch was an awesome spot though. Hannah was happy once she satisfied the food and caffeine-shaped hole in her stomach.
For as beautiful as the scenery was, the sandflies were nearly intolerable during lunch. I think they’re particularly fond of Western blood because Zack and I were getting demolished. They really should’ve supplied some spray.
Our spot was quickly disappearing as the tide was coming in so we finished eating and got back out there. It wasn’t too far to paddle back to base.
Before we went to shore Mossimo told us the Maori legend of how Milford Sound was created. Kind of a fun tale if you care to read it.
I really enjoyed our time on the water. I’m a big fan of kayaking and rafting in general. With this scenery too, it was hard to be mad.
We shed our gear and then Ethan picked us up to drive us back to Te Anau. We made a few other brief stops on the return.
The Road to Te Anau
Lake Gunn in the Afternoon
The Chasm
It was a long day of being out but a sweet experience. With the extra stops and guiding, we felt like we got more than we paid for which was cool. Ethan did pretty well on tips too, so we joked that the beers were on him.
When we got back, we checked into our new room together (with a bed for me!) and showered up.
We ventured out into the burgeoning metropolis of Te Anau for a meal. Of course, we ran into Ethan at the restaurant. There was a wait for a table so he invited us to join him and a Swedish guy who was on his tour the day before us.
Amazing happenstance. Getting to know both of them was hilarious.
Ethan was like 24 but had been a sponsored BMXer, the skipper of a Marlin charter boat and a gold miner in Canada. He was also a ladies man with some comical stories. For example, he told us how he had a crush on this girl but ended up hooking up with her Mom when he was younger. Those days are apparently behind him now. He said he was ready to settle down and find a long-term relationship.
“Yeah. I’m the kind of guy you can bring home to Mom…Please bring me home to your Mom.”
-Nate Impersonating Ethan
Peter was a behavioral scientist for animals, working at various zoos and sometimes traveling the world as a keynote speaker.
We went to the “hip” bar for a final round. Ethan responsibly left first since he had another tour in the morning and then we parted ways with Peter. Another great evening.
Day 7 – The Imbalanced Ratio of Driving vs Stopping
We weren’t in a hurry in the morning, but we knew we had a long time on the road.
Our plan was to do what I had done a week prior and drive south through the Catlins to see some of the sights on our way to Dunedin. Only this time without the flooding.
It was roughly 5hrs of driving, not including stops. We had the key ones picked out.
After breakfast, we pushed off on our first leg of the trip — a somewhat plain drive through Invercargill (stop to pee) and onto Curio Bay.
Three hours later, we had arrived. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see any of the wildlife around but it was a solid vista. It was only a brief stop before we were onto the next.
Curio Bay
Then after another 45 minutes and some car sickness, we made it to our second stop — Purakaunui Falls. It was a short walk to one of the more unique ones I’ve seen.
Zack & Hannah at Purakaunui Falls
It was about another hour or so to Nugget Point. We had a solid chat about the healthcare system in America before we arrived.
It was a 40 minute return walk to the lighthouse that had some unique cone-shaped rocks just off the coast.
Nugget Point
Got back in the car. Roughly another hour long drive to Dunedin. Pit stopped near Balclutha to refuel and pee. Some more car naps. I was fading. Bland scenery? Unusual for New Zealand. At least we didn’t have to ford any floods. It felt a lot later than it was.
At long last, we entered the Dunedin city limits.
View from the AirBnB
We stayed outside of the city center at an AirBnB that was situated on a hill overlooking everything. It had a pretty awesome view.
The host was out when we arrived so we let ourselves in and got comfortable.
There was a debate on whether we should just make food and relax there or venture into the city.
The energy level was low.
I tried to encourage going to see some sites since they might never be back. That won out in the end and we had a pretty awesome dinner, featuring tasty pasta dishes and a full liter of wine. A full liter.
We met our host briefly when we returned. It was basically to set up our breakfast time for the morning.
Day 8 – The Swan Song
The Airbnb reviews really talked up Georgina (the host).
She provided some muesli and toast for us. She was definitely the chatty grandmother type. I think we left like a good 30-45 minutes later than we would have since she got on a roll.
It was good. Apart from the drunk shitheads in Queenstown and playboy Ethan, Zack and Hannah hadn’t had much of a chance to connect with a local.
She made some recommendations of places to stop on our drive up to Christchurch. It was another long day in the car. We had to get back at a certain point to drop off the rental as well.
We did pull off to see the Moeraki Rocks, do a quick drive by of the Oamaru steampunk museum and grab lunch but I don’t remember too much else.
Car naps? Oh, mos definitely.
We made it to our final destination a little before 4pm. We hustled to unload our things so we could knock out the airport excursion and get into Christchurch to explore.
Again, the 12 year old girls took a while to process our return (we’ve come full circle) but it got done and we caught the bus downtown.
I showed them the main highlights I’d seen – New Regent St, Cathedral Square, the Bridge of Remembrance and a few of the shopping streets.
We went to an “upmarket food court,” as a shop owner described it, for dinner. It was a large building with a ton of tasty looking restaurants all side by side.
Last Meal at Little High Eatery
I went HAAM on my last meal in New Zealand. A huge plate of seafood fried rice, some sushi and a big boy beer.
We decided it’d be a nice trip finale to go have a drink at one of the cool spots we’d seen on New Regent St.
We chose The Last Word, which looked like a vibey whisky bar. After a drink there, we were like why the hell not and went to The Institution across the street. They were both divey bars with a good selection and fun decor.
We had a comfy time on some couches finishing that beverage. Then the question of what we were doing next came up. Well damn. I’m usually not one to derail a night out but I had to leave a 4am to head to the airport. It was already 10:30pm and I still had to repack my things. The intelligent part of my brain said we should probably go back. I was up for whatever, so let the other two decide.
Hannah felt like staying out so we went back to The Last Word to have the last word.
I just thought of that.
I’m glad we did. Zack and I got in a giggle fit about how introverts could meet other introverts and get in a relationship without saying anything to one another.
It was an excellent way to finish off our time together, and my trip as a whole.
We Uber’d back to our…hotel room? It was a unique, boutique type accommodation with a bit of a weird vibe if I’m being honest.
The three of us destroyed our room rearranging all of our belongings. We said our fond farewells.
I got less than 2 hours of sleep. Thankfully, I woke up to my alarm and met my taxi.
After 3 months of living in New Zealand, I hopped on a 6am flight to Australia.
I was leaving what had become familiar territory to start a new chapter of this travel adventure. Mixed feelings that I’m only just now processing.
The Last Coin
The incredible thing, is that I somehow only ended up with this single 10¢ coin.
I’d say my experience was worth a whole lot more, but an overall rating of 10 wouldn’t be too far off.
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.
As of now, I’ve been in New Zealand for a full month. A little over, actually. Crazy.
It doesn’t feel that long. Partly because I’m south of Auckland for the first time this trip. I’ve done “heaps” of stuff so far, but there’s so much more on the agenda that I’m excited about.
A month in feels like a good time for a temperature check. There’s obviously some fun verbal/pronunciation items that I’ve noticed – all vowels have a different sound; “wh” = “f”; they refer to a pharmacy as “the chemist” which is sweet.
Heat Light Switch
There’s also random things like everybody having a compost pile, being able to sign a receipt in pencil, and bathrooms having a heat switch (genius). The biggest standout, though, is the “No worries” culture. Kiwis in general are so pleasant and helpful. When asking your opinion, the phrasing is even, “Are you happy to/if/when/with…” It’s a subtle, yet big difference in the way an American would direct that type of question. I’ve been wondering why that’s the case.
Is it because there are inherently less complications for a country with a population roughly the size of Kentucky? Are infrastructure, health care, and agriculture industries easier to institute and maintain because they service substantially fewer people? It must be simpler just being an island, period. Also, less political pressure on the world stage – no question. I’m not sure if any of those factors actually affect an American’s day to day happiness levels though. Like, sure, there’s a certain amount of face-palm embarrassment based on Trump’s tweet for the day but that’s not creating a palpable negativity that limits me from carrying on with my life. Is that a dismissive attitude? It could be a sad realization that the US standard is, shall we say, less encouraging than other countries.
They do have their own issues here – Mauri relations, housing prices, fishing regulations. While they’re important, things of that nature don’t seem to have a prying impact on life.
I was having a conversation with my most recent Workaway hosts. I guess they were more bickering to me about their recent trip to the US while I sat and listened politely. They complained about the food scene in New York. That they didn’t get a consistent recommendation after asking a handful of people where to eat. As if there should have been a clear favorite among the thousands of restaurants in the city. I mentioned the sheer scale and diversity of a single neighborhood in a place that size, which didn’t quell their dispute. They brought up tip culture and claimed that restaurant workers being predominantly women and minorities — whose low wages need to be supplemented by everyday customers — was a new form of slavery. Wow. Mouth agape. Persnickety people content in their perception that what they like is right, not just different. Other cultures offer a variety of differences in everything – tastes, opportunities, values. The beauty of traveling is experiencing those differences, not passing judgement on them. Of course you might have a preference, but that’s not set in stone as the best thing for everybody else. And if I’m being honest, for a so-called “foodie,” the meals I had ranked last out of all the Workaways I’ve been to date. But that’s just my preference.
At least they had one of the sweetest dogs on the planet.
Mojo
Anyway, I digressed big time there. But I think I landed on what I was looking for. Perception being the reason behind happiness. I mean, some of the most kind and down to earth people I’ve met have been those with the “less desirable” jobs. I was hitchhiking and got picked up by a painter on his way into work. He said he’s lived here all his life and isn’t going anywhere because “why leave paradise?” Can’t argue with that.
I guess it could be something in the air though. The ocean breeze mixing with volcanic fumes to create some sort of euphoric oxygen compound. Is that science? Nah. That’s most certainly not a real thing. But it’s still nice.
The ultimate question is: how can you change your perception? It’s pretty easy to get bogged down in the shitty details of this or that. Wiser to just focus on the simple things that are positively influencing your daily life. Priorities, man. No worries.
