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.
People didn’t necessarily speak highly of it. I’d hear it was largely a university city. Much more sprawling than anything I’d seen since Auckland.
It was relatively quiet though, considering the students were away. Summer break. Man. I’m still not used to the whole season reversal thing yet.
Robert Burns Statue
It was a unique place, designed by a Scottish dude. I don’t think it was Robert Burns but there was a statue of him in the middle of the town, so maybe. Also happens to be my grandfather’s name.
The city center was shaped like an octagon, which I don’t think I’ve ever seen. The building architecture was also quite Victorian? I know that’s a thing…not sure if it’s an accurate thing. It was UK-esque anyways. An intricate train station, some cathedrals and shopping. Other than that, not too much doing.
Dunedin Train Station
There was a castle outside of town and the worlds steepest street, apparently. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it to either of those two attractions.
After a day of light exploring and sorting out my life and laundry, I hit the road for Christchurch. It was about a 5 hour drive and it was time for me to turn in my rental car. I’ve been cruising around in this thing for 20 days already. Hard to believe.
It was a rather uneventful drive; by New Zealand standards, a very boring stretch of land. I arrived in Christchurch mid-afternoon and checked into my hostel quickly so I could sort out the rental drop off.
I was eager to spend time walking around the city. There was supposed to be an interesting juxtaposition of new and dilapidated buildings due to a devastating earthquake they had in 2010.
ChristChurch Cathedral in Ruins
Can confirm the accounts as accurate. The cathedral in the city center was the most notable example but there were other completely modern structures directly opposite run down buildings too. Hopefully they’re able to renovate/reconstruct everything to tolerate the volatile earth floor they have.
Another unique thing about Christchurch was the street art. There were a lot of large murals around the city which reminded me of Richmond. I was digging it.
Street Art by Askew
Street Art by Wongi Wilson
It was time for dinner and I decided I would treat myself to a meal out since it was Thanksgiving back home. Since I’m still a cheapskate, I found a cool burger place that fit the bill. An old shipping container with a solid patio situation. Thursday was also bike repair night, so there were a ton of cool motorcycles there. Neat spot. Good choice.
Bike Night atSmash Palace
I walked around a little bit more before making my way back to the hostel for the evening. I had a little bit more preparation to do before Zack and Hannah arrived the next day.
First visitors, yay! It was going to be a jam-packed few days but promised to be an amazing time. We’d essentially be doing the loop I just finished, but it was an opportunity to tackle some walks and other activities I didn’t get to do. Plus, having familiar faces to share the last hoorah with was going to be sweet.
FULL DISCLOSURE:
My posts are a few weeks behind real-time. At this rate, I don’t think I’ll ever be writing in present tense. I’m doing my best to catch up though.
This is going to be a short one anyway because my time in Te Anau was brief.
The town was incredibly small. It was more of a pit stop for people preparing for the great walks or doing tours in the Milford/Doubtful Sounds.
That was me.
I had to get on the road by 6am to catch my 9am boat cruise. I was prepared for rain because, you know, that was the new norm. I was not prepared for snow, which is what I encountered about 30 minutes into the drive.
The first official day of summer was like a week away and it was legit snowing. I didn’t pack for this, guys.
There probably would’ve been some awesome views along the way but visibility was low. There was an intense one-way tunnel that went through a mountain and joined a windy road down. That’s the area where the snow was heaviest, of course.
Waiting at the Tunnel
I arrived at the car park with some time to spare. I checked in and snapped a few pics.
Everybody raves about the beauty of Milford Sound, which is really a fiord because it’s been glacially carved as opposed to being formed by a river. I could totally see it. But it’d be ideal under better conditions.
Milford Pano
[Is this blog only weather complaints now? Sad.]
I was still excited about the trip. It was just a 2-hour cruise, but seeing things from the water is always a unique perspective. Plus there was the added bonus of a hot breakfast.
I loaded up my tray with an insane amount of food. Eggs, sausage, bacon, quiche, hash browns, yogurt and granola, toast, juice. You’d think I hadn’t eaten in a few days. And I destroyed it all before we were barely away from the dock. This honestly might’ve been the best part of my day, which is also kind of sad.
The upside to all of the recent rain was that the waterfalls streaming off the mountains were looking good. Some of the peaks were hidden by the low-hanging clouds — a familiar moody vibe.
What wasn’t hidden was all of the other cruise boats. They had the departure schedule staggered alright, but there was always another vessel in sight. I suppose you can’t really do much about that.
Other Tour Boat
The ride was surprisingly calm on the way out. Frigid being on the deck though. We had a false alarm of a dolphin sighting, which kept my no-interesting-marine-life-spotted streak alive.
We got out to the Tasman Sea and turned around. That’s when things got real. The wind was whipping fiercely and the rain picked up. It was like a video of a weatherman reporting during a hurricane. There were times where I was leaning diagonally to not be blown away. I nearly donated my hat to the sound on a few occasions as well.
The skipper sailed us right up next to a waterfall and two fur seals on a rock (you’re a dime a dozen, fur seals) and then we were docked. It happened quickly.
I drove away feeling like I missed out on the majesty of Milford. I didn’t like that outlook so was happy I’d be returning soon when Zack and Hannah came to visit. A chance for redemption.
On the way back, there was traffic. Odd.
I thought it was just the queue for the tunnel but this was well before the mountain climb up to it. Accident? Plowing? I wasn’t sure what was going on but ended up falling asleep in the car…for 45 minutes. I woke up in a daze and we still hadn’t moved. So weird.
Don’t worry, I wasn’t stuck there forever. We started going after an hour and a half. The reason why remains a mystery.
Will I ever find the answer?
Will the second trip be better?
WILL THE TOWN BE SAVED FROM THE POISONED WATER?!?
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.
I hadn’t taken part in any fence building activities since the summer of 2004. It was time to get back on the horse.
That was pretty much all I was responsible for during my Workaway at Pete and Kyra’s house. Thankfully, Pete would be directing traffic — I was just “the muscle.” Aka good luck, Pete.
What I lack in bicep mass I make up for in…drinking beer?
To be fair, I dug almost all of the post holes by myself with a shovel and pry bar. Manually. As in, without an auger. It actually went pretty seamlessly. I think Pete was surprised at how much we got done across the 5 days. All posts set and cross beams bolted; on top of some general yard maintenance with accompanying runs to the dump. It was productive.
[Not Pictured: Everything discussed in this post]
My favorite thing about my time at Pete and Kyra’s is a toss up between a sushi salad we had for dinner (need to get that recipe) and Pete’s “go on then!” mantra.
They’re both fit and energetic people, so we ate a lot of tasty, healthy meals. My waist is a reflection of my diet while in New Zealand — I’m on a new hole in my belt. Withering away. Average weight, above average beer gut is probably more like it.
Anyhow, Pete and Kyra are British transplants to New Zealand. So anytime he was saying “go on then” it was essentially him being agreeable to something.
Kyra: Would you like some muesli bars?
Pete: Go on then!
Me: *Pushing a wheelbarrow of soil up a ramp onto the trailer*
Pete: Go on then!
Kyra: Let’s watch the poop program.
Pete: Go on then!
Yes. I’m not exaggerating. There’s a show here (The Good Sh*t) that followed a few obese teens who were in a drug trial that consisted of taking poop pills — literally pills containing bacteria from a fit persons feces. They were trying to prove that changing your gut bacteria would help a person lose weight.
There was an entire show about this. And I watched episodes of it.
I don’t know what to think. What I do know is that the results of the study seemed VERY inconclusive, if not outright a waste of time.
Moving on…
Apart from the odd television choices, they were great hosts with a comfortable house in a solid location. It was walkable to the Nelson city center. Even though it was only a few square blocks, it was by far the closest Workaway I had to civilization. At least I had options. I didn’t end up making it to a trivia night, but we did go out to a craft beer bar to meet some of their friends which was nice.
Timing is a funny thing. I was just thinking, this would’ve been a much better place to spend two weeks as opposed to Ngaruawahia. But if I’d done that, I would’ve been a week early in Taupo and probably wouldn’t have had such an epic experience on the Tongariro Crossing and getting that promo rafting trip.
Things work out. Sometimes with mixed success, as you will note from my trip into Abel Tasman National Park.
