A New Zealand Love Affair

To start, a quick summary.

One country.

Two months.

63 hitchhiked rides.

Over 150 miles of hiking.

And 2,490 pictures taken.

Reading through my journal (which I wrote in nearly every day) brings back so many memories. All the details I wrote seemed rather dull at the time, but now I know why I wrote them. The words are a time machine. They instantly transport me back to various New Zealand mountain tops, beaches, and campgrounds. They paint a picture of all the people I met who I was too nervous to photograph. They evoke every emotion I felt through each day… and I felt them all.

The best moments of my trip—

·         Pretty much every morning. They were unhurried, effortless. I took my time waking up, slowly stretching out the nights aches, making coffee (so thankful for my Jetboil coffee press), eating some breakfast, packing up my backpack in the same meticulous order, looking over the map and deciding where to go, and setting off into the day.

·         Accidentally laughing when a guy revealed the pathetic story about his failed marriage of two months. His wife left him for her sister’s ex. Ouch.

·         Kayaking on glassy Lake Rotoiti because my feet were too blistered to hike anywhere.

·         Sitting in a campsite playground with a new friend, Nicola, drinking cheap wine, sucking on cinnamon lollies, and discussing every detail of our lives like old friends.

·         Serendipitous moment of happening upon a campground, asking about hikes and in return being introduced to an awesome girl I had just read about earlier in the day who hiked the whole country. She gave me pointers and a USB stick filled with maps. I love it when things fall into place that perfectly.

·         My many simple and indulgent picnics

·         I found this seemingly perfect campsite, went to soak my feet in the stream when 25 hungry eels jumped out at me… meet Eddy and friends. Then decided to sit in the tree and read. Before too long, I realized I was being used as target practice for a few pesky pigeons. Awesome.

·         Riding in the car with chatty Frank, an old coal miner, who had the thickest accent I heard the whole trip. He just kept talking, and I just kept nodding and saying “uh-huh”, until he would ask me a question and I had absolutely no idea what he just asked me, so I would make up an answer. He drove me 3.5 hours out of his way to get me safely where I wanted to go.

·         Eating hokey pokey ice cream on the beach at sunset. Eating ice cream in a park while watching a young hippie couple play with their naked baby and occasionally beat on a bongo drum. Eating the best ice cream I’ve ever had – Tramontana from Patagonia (thanks for the recommendation Bruk and Mayli!). I ate a lot of ice cream.

·         Playing Zilch (dice game like farkel) with new campground friends. I came in dead last.

·         The day my armpit hair outgrew my leg hair. Yeah… I’m sexy and I know it.

·         Swimming in the ocean at Golden Bay where it looks like specs of gold are floating in the water all around – so luxurious! Definitely true to its name.

·         Finally finding a health food store that sold kombucha! (only took a month and a half … withdrawals had been nigh unbearable).

·         Taking a shower under a soft waterfall. Freezing cold, but so amazing.

·         My liquid soap spilled all over my backpack. A few days later I was walking in the pouring rain… it wasn’t long until the soap started bubbling up. Had to walk for an hour while suds covered me from shoulder to knees. There was nothing to do but laugh at myself and how ridiculous I looked.

·         The first day of sunshine in a week on the west coast. I was outside from sunrise to sunset.

·         Reaching the end of the Copland track. It was breath-taking. Best moment by far.

·         While walking a few miles from town to my campground with a hefty load of groceries, I noticed a long swing in the tree by the lake. Next thing I know, my bags were unloaded, my shoes were off, and my hips were squeezed into the makeshift child-sized swing. I closed my eyes, leaned as far back as I could, and swung until I was dizzy. Pure joy.

·         Lying awake in my tent at 3am during a crazy thunderstorm. I nervously counted the seconds between the flash and the boom, and instantly felt like a little kid again.

·         Hiking a couple hours to Lake Marian where I made my camp for the night – completely alone! So serene.

·         The numerous rides from big families who took me in as one of their own, fed me, and asked me a never ending stream of questions.

·         A sad goodbye wave from a little girl who made me her camping buddy for a couple days. She would randomly come up and tell me a few stories then run off to the beach to play.

·         Sitting on top of the radio station building in Gore, drinking Speight’s with new friends. 

·         A couple offered me a ride, after their coffee break. I sat in the sun with them, eating cake, drinking instant coffee, and exchanging travel/life stories for 45 minutes. All for a 20 minute ride up the road.

·         Waking up to the roaring crack of nearby glaciers at Mt. Cook.

·         Getting a ride from a New Zealand version of Willie Nelson. Ghost had a barely audible, raspy voice from years of smoking, long silver braids under a camo bandana, and offered me a drag from his pipe as well as a place to stay if I was ever back in the area.  

And yes, the worse moments—

·         Waiting four long days for my backpack to show up.

·         Being eaten alive by sandflies more often than not. I hate those things.

·         Finding out my tent was in fact NOT waterproof. Fail.

·         The reoccurring and very vivid end of the world dreams.

·         Crashing hard and getting really sick a few days before I left.

Though these stories may not seem like much, they were the core of my trip. It’s hard to write about a trip like this because there were so many moments, most that would seem boring to everyone but me. However, I went to New Zealand first for its beauty, and second for its sanctuary; I thought it would be the ideal place to find some faith, which I needed desperately. And I did in fact find some things to believe in…

I believe in waking up slowly with the sun. I believe in self-respect, self-love, and self-reliance. I believe in the power of positive thinking and in listening to the signs of the universe. I believe in smiling at strangers and taking the scenic route. I believe in dessert any time of the day. I believe in first impressions, second chances, and that the third time is the charm. I believe in a thing called love. I believe a short life well lived beats a long life full of regrets, hands down. I believe a mother knows best. I believe in laughing at yourself and keeping promises. I believe in traveling; travel alone, travel together, travel for food, for people, for fun, for purpose; travel always, travel well, travel freely. Mostly, I believe nature is my religion. Mountaintops are my sanctuary. I can always find God in the breeze, in the music of flowing water, in the fresh air in my lungs, and in the warm sunshine on my skin; eternal, internal, simple, and beautiful.

I had the same basic conversation over and over again with each ride … 60 strangers asked me the same set of questions 60 times. But in those conversations those strangers became friends. Sometimes I got bored with the same answers, so I would make something up. One that stuck with me was “what do you do?” I kept saying “Ohh, nothing really … just work and travel.” But I think I found I do more than that. I am a photographer. I am a writer. I am a cook. I am a student of life. I am a traveler. Do I have a college degree in any of these? Nope. But I think I have finally realized the only way I will ever be the things I want to be is to truly believe I am those things. It’s a constant struggle because I face extreme insecurities. But it’s time to own it, to believe it, and to live it.

I came to the realization of why I am living the way I am, and it all comes back to a car ride. I don’t know where I was driving or what song was playing on the radio … I just remember the sudden knowledge that I am going to live a short life. It hit with such conviction that it has stayed with me for years. So the sudden lifestyle change, the traveling, the living day to day was my response to that. But I am not special … everyone is going to die. It’s the fact of life. Whether or not it’s tomorrow or 60 years from now doesn’t really matter. Whenever that day does come, I want to know I woke up each morning and lived every day as the best version of myself. I want to know I strived to brighten someone else’s experience on this earth, even just for a shining second. I want to know a sense of peace with my life. I just have to follow my own path, to live my life in whatever way makes sense each day.  

New Zealand is an amazing country. The most wonderful people inhabit this island. For all the generosity they showed me, I will be forever grateful. They take nothing in return, so I have a LOT to pay forward. I was constantly asked if I was afraid to be traveling solo as a female. The answer is no, not once. It’s vital for any traveler to keep her wits about her and use her intuition… Do this, and there is no need for fear. New Zealand offers endless breath-taking vistas – glimpses of what anyone would call paradise. Pictures and words could never bring them justice.  If you get the chance to go, don’t hesitate for one second.