One month down.
Originally published February 2018.
We have officially been in New Zealand for a whole month, which means we have reached the half-way point of our time in this beautiful country. I can’t even believe we somehow crammed so much into four weeks, but the state of physical exhaustion in my muscles and the creak of my knees remind me daily of just how much we have done. It has been a whirlwind and emotional and so incredibly physically demanding and enlightening and somehow in the craziness and chaos of it all,
it has retained such a consistent level of stillness, providing a stable state of being for my spirit to rest into, and I have found a sense of home even in all of this moving around.
Our last week on the South Island was no less crammed full than the rest of the trip, but it is always so worth it.
From Hokitika, we drove up to Arthur’s Pass National Park, having done very little research beyond looking up the most popular hikes, of which we had names and distances, but no idea what we would be seeing.
Yet again, suddenly within an hour we were in a completely different landscape, from beach and farmland to mountains on every side, looming over us as we drove through the valley below.
We crossed the Otira Viaduct, which was impressive, but I still think the viaduct on the NC section of the parkway is way more impressive. Nevertheless, we stopped at the overlook for a quick look.
It started to rain, so we hunkered down in a campsite shelter until the storm passed. This was the first time we have sat through a significant thunderstorm in our time in New Zealand, the boom of thunder almost sounding foreign and a little more intimidating than normal.
Lucas and I played Rummy (he’s still beating me by a lot) while Danielle boycotted like always and spent time writing, until the coast was clear and we could go back outside.
We did a short hike to Devil’s Punchbowl Falls, the classic tourist attraction in Arthur’s Pass because it is a short and fairly easy trail to hike, with plenty of stairs and handrails for the uncoordinated population, and the population with tired legs (aka us always). I don’t remember what having fresh legs feels like anymore.
Our time in New Zealand has basically been the equivalent of doing leg day all day every day. My knees are struggling.
After the falls we drove toward Castle Hill, only because it was recommended to us, not because we had any idea what we were driving toward.
Castle Hill looks like some scenes in Lord of the Rings, but I don’t think LOTR was actually filmed here. However, the battle scene in Chronicles of Narnia was, which was pretty cool. Castle Hill is basically this giant boulder field with rocks varying from car size to two story building size just scattered across these green, grassy hills. C
We climbed around for a while (I wished I had climbing shoes and a crash pad to boulder. Castle Hill is one of the most famous spots for climbing in New Zealand), and then made our way back to Beep Boop because we needed to make dinner before it got dark.
We parked Beep Boop at another beautiful lookout and had dinner as the sun was starting to set. Dinner was tuna wraps, a meal I have eaten more consistently than anything thus far in New Zealand.
We parked the van at a freedom camping spot at Lake Pearson, made tea, and I sat and watched a group of people throw frisbee for 15 minutes or so before I couldn’t stand it anymore and just left my tea on the ground so that I could go throw with them. I just really can’t say no to opportunities to throw.
My throwing partners this time were a group of friends from England, 5 guys and one girl. We threw and talked for a while, most of the time dying laughing at their friend who had been chosen to be comedian for the night by drinking all of the alcohol they had left. They explained that they didn’t have enough alcohol left to get all of them drunk (I am learning more and more how important alcohol is in most European culture), so they just gave it all to this one guy, who was out of his mind. At one point he tried to get in their hammock, a brand similar to an Eno. I took the opportunity to show them my favorite way to get in a hammock, which involves turning it upside down, hanging by your arms, swinging your feet, and then kicking your feet back behind you, catching your feet inside the hammock (so you are now hanging upside down from the hammock), and then you basically do a giant ab crunch/twist to turn your whole body and the hammock around to be laying right side up.
So naturally drunk dude had to try.
It isn’t as complicated of a maneuver as it sounds, but for a person who has consumed all of the group’s alcohol, it was a little too much for his brain to handle. He attempted, which ended up being his body free falling to the ground from three feet in the air, face first. The six of us watching erupted in laughter. He was pretty intoxicated though so it’s okay, he didn’t feel it.
I haven’t belly laughed like that in a while. We were definitely the people that everyone rolls their eyes at because they are being way too loud at bedtime in a small campsite, and normally I hate being those people, but this time nothing in me was cringing at all except my abs from laughing so hard.
I asked drunk guy what the meaning of life was, hoping for an alcohol-induced breakthrough to another dimension, but he could only come back with “we are all here by accident, so live as much as you can while you can.” Sad day, drunk dude. I though you were going to save the world.
I said farewell to my new friends because I had to wake up super early to do a 6-hour hike in the morning.
That morning came way too quickly, alarms blaring at 6am to make us get ready for our big day, our hike to Avalanche Peak, a 3600 ft climb (yes that means climbing 3600 ft. up) within 5k’s, so 3.1 miles. That’s an average of 1160 ft of climbing per mile. Aka it was the steepest trail I have hiked, definitely in the past couple years, if not ever.
I started the hike tired, so it took a lot of mental coaching to get myself up on top of that mountain.
This was me halfway through:
Hiking hard mountains is probably one of the best ways to practice thought control that I’ve found, because if you don’t keep your headspace healthy and sit with discomfort, you’re going to be pretty miserable pretty quick.
BUT WE MADE IT AND WE HAD THE BEST WEATHER AND HOLY MOLY THAT VIEW
Also, this cool kea, New Zealand’s native alpine parrot, came and joined us on the summit, which was such a treat.
We ate our lunch of, guess what, tuna wraps, and then eventually said farewell to the tiny summit of Avalanche Peak and made our long trek back down.
Here are the top three thoughts I had while hiking down:
Ow ow ow ow ow
I don’t know how to take all of this in.
Ow ow ow ow ow
There were 360 degree views of mountains the whole trail, and I wanted to sit down and look at them all day, which I couldn’t do because I had to tend to my old grandma knees that had me limping all the way down those 3600ft of decline, and we were on somewhat of a schedule because we had a 6-hour drive to make the rest of the day.
I made it though, and was ready to not have to do any intense hiking for a few days.
We stretched, and then got in Beep Boop and drove 6 hours North, making our way toward Abel Tasman National Park to hopefully catch some good weather before a big tropical storm came that was supposed to hit later in the week.
We made it about an hour away from the park and camped at a nice freedom campsite in a big grassy field, going to sleep early and sleeping in late, having a slow morning because we finally had a rest day and had no plans beyond drive to a campsite on the beach in the afternoon and lay in the sun all day, which we did, and it was glorious.
We had a little scare when we accidentally got Beep Boop stuck with tires spinning because we parked him in loose rocks without enough traction, but we did a good ol’ put him in neutral and rock it back and forth until it has enough momentum and force to get the tires out of the hole that we dug when we spun them too long. So. Yay for improvisation and not having to get Beep Boop towed down this baby hill because we were idiots and parked him in a spot we shouldn’t have, because that would have been a little embarrassing.
We woke up early early the next morning (waking up before 7am is pretty regular for us these days) so that we could drive toward Abel Tasman National Park.
Abel Tasman is another super popular one of the 7 great walks in New Zealand, but we had to pick and choose our great walks because they are super expensive to book, and Abel Tasman didn’t make the cut. So the other popular option if you don’t do the whole 4-day great walk is to park in Marahau, the closest town accessible via road near Abel Tasman National Park, and then you take a water taxi (a boat) up the coast and get dropped off in the national park, day hike to your heart’s content, and waddle your way all the way back to your car, taking as long as you want as long as you get back by 7pm because they lock the carpark. So, we took a water taxi about 45 minutes up the coast to Torrent Bay, a tiny little harbor settlement with no electricity made up of one tiny lodge and a few private houses only accessible via boat.
We hiked for about 6 hours on and off that day, which was more than my body needed to do. The terrain wasn’t that intense, gradual hills up and down, but I literally had to limp the last couple miles of the trail because my knees hurt so bad. It was worth it though. Our morning that began in misty rain turned out to be quite sunny and we got enough of a taste of Abel Tasman to be satisfied.
We took a little detour to Cleopatra’s Pool, and I got my fill of freshwater mountain stream exploring that reminded me of summer back home. The water was the perfect amount of freezing and refreshing, and we soaked it up during a break in the rain. I could have stayed there all day, but we had a lot of walking to do, so we had to move on.
We had lunch on a little beach tucked away in one of the lagoons. I hopped in for a dip, but it was too chilly to enjoy being in for long.
The storm was going to hit the next morning, and the K’s decided to get a hotel for two nights in Nelson to wait out the storm because #marriage, so I did van life solo for two nights. However, we still hung out together a good bit. We ordered a pizza to swing by and pick up on our way into Nelson, which was a pizza with smoked chicken breast, red onion, brie cheese, cranberry sauce, cherry tomatoes and basil (probably one of the best pizzas I’ve ever had) and a large cheese. We ate all of it and probably could have eaten more. Here’s a candid picture Danielle took (I was actually laughing at something Lucas said, but we can say it’s also because I was so excited to eat that pizza).
Day two in Nelson was coffee shop hangs and using wifi for the first time in a while, mainly used to research what we were doing the next couple days because we had very little idea. Then the K’s invited me to have fancy salmon pasta dinner with lots of cream and butter and wine and it was the best. And my poor tummy felt all of that dairy.
We folded our CLEAN laundry (having clothes that actually smell pleasant is becoming a rare pleasure) back tidily into our clothes boxes, organized Beep-Boop, and headed toward Picton to sleep for the night because we would take the ferry to the North Island from Picton the next morning.
Again, freedom camping spot for the win. Perks of having a self-contained van!
The Interislander ferry on the morning of February 3rd was my first ferry experience, and it started very pleasantly with a soy latte (my first splurge coffee drink of the trip) and some writing, but ended with me staring out the front window convincing myself that I was not going to throw up. I guess I get seasick?
We survived puke-free through, and drove Beep Boop off the ship and met the North Island all together for the first time in Wellington, NZ, the second-largest town on the North Island beneath Auckland.
Danielle was craving fried chicken, which we all agreed would hit the freakin spot, so she found a joint downtown Wellington that served things like chicken and waffles, chicken sandwiches, and then the thing that we really wanted, which was buttermilk battered chicken in a basket, a basket of the most glorious perfectly-crispy fries, with aoli on the side, a given companion with fries, or “chips” in New Zealand.
I’m normally not a fried meat and fries kind of woman, but when I’ve been traveling and hiking and eating a lot of rice and canned tuna, my body screams for grease.
So we indulged. And we were perfectly magnificently happy and full.
We walked off our chicken and chips food babies around the city, from which I got pretty overstimulated pretty fast. Suddenly being surrounded by cars zooming and people everywhere and big buildings and loud noises everywhere was a lot for my little introvert self who had spent most of her time in the silent woods for the past month.
I overcame it by hiding out in this super sweet little bar called Husk, where Danielle and I took turns sipping a yum Gingery Sour while looking over some stuff for Southeast Asia, which feels crazy that it will be here in less than two months from now.
We killed time waiting for dinner (which was already determined to be take-out from this yum Turkish kabobs place, also a recommendation from ex-roommate/kindred spirit Kelly who lived in Wellington for a while, and you never say no to a recommendation from Kelly) by doing our grocery shopping for our 4-day backpacking trip around the Tongariro Northern Circuit Loop, which we would start on the 5th.
Then we slammed those chicken kabobs with all the yum sauces while sitting on the very windy beach, definitely eating some hair and dripping juices and sauces on our clothes. Worth it.
We slept in the most tight knit freedom camping parking lot we have experienced thus far. Vans crammed in side by side, no privacy, classic van life in New Zealand. Danielle and I started doing abs and pushups every other day, and heck yeah we did them on our yoga mats right in the middle of that parking lot with no shame.
We slept in, not needing to go anywhere fast, and then drove to have coffee at a little cafe called the Botanist, which was fittingly filled with plants of all kinds. I sipped a soy latte (yikes two in one week who am I) while the K’s shared brunch, and we enjoyed just sitting there and not needing to be anywhere, taking our sweet time, lingering longer than we probably should have considering how busy the cafe was. Oh well.
We then began our 3.5 hour drive North, toward Tongariro National Park. We found a freedom camping spot about thirty minutes out of the way that had awesome reviews, and we have found that driving out of the way for a good campsite is totally worth it. So we committed and made our way to an area we knew nothing about (basically our entire trip thus far)
“Well, we’ll see once we get there.”
I took a turn sitting in the back on the way there (we haven’t been as strict about the seatbelt rule, whoops sorry all moms who are raising their fingers to say shame shame shame), and I was jolted from my daydreaming by Lucas screaming “EMILY! EMILY!” in a loud tone that seemed as if he was joking but I couldn’t really tell so I didn’t know how to respond except for sitting up very quickly, which I did, and then I screamed back “YESSSSSS”
We had found it. The giant carrot statue. BY ACCIDENT WHICH MAKES IT EVEN BETTER. Ohakune, NZ is apparently New Zealand’s carrot captial, a common base camp for advntures to Tongariro National Park, especially during ski season. We got out and made our offerings and say our prayers to the carrot gods. And of course, a @carrotsontheroad picture was taken.
And then we took a turn off the main road and within minutes were suddenly winding through another insanely beautiful landscape different than we had seen thus far, super steep grassy hills covered in sheep, with a river winding through the little valley at the bottom.
We arrived at Ruatiti Domain, the freedom campsite we took a chance on, and it turned out being one of our favorite campsites that we’ve stayed in. It was super secluded filled mainly with locals (hard to find here). We parked Beep Boop in the shade under a tree in a grassy field and spent the day going on a little trail run, taking a dip in the river, making a yum yellow curry for dinner (we have been crushing some good fancy camping dinners), and then my favorite part of the evening,
We made a fire and sat around talking until the stars came out,
Something we haven’t been able to do yet because in most places in New Zealand there are pretty strict fire bans.
Some days I feel like I could live this way forever, dirty, greasy, smelly, barefoot, a little sunburned, bra-less, hair un-brushable, and even covered in itchy bug bites.
Month one has re-connected to parts of myself that I haven’t seen in a long time. I have spent so many hours in silence and reflection, I have shed quite a few tears, my journal is filled with poems that are flowing easily and freely again, and I am making a home inside of myself again, remembering how to navigate my way through the rooms in the house of my brain, dusting off neglected shelves and watering plants that have been stuck in corners, watching myself come more and more alive and recognizable with each passing day, continuing to orient myself to spend a lot of time sitting with my hands open and breathing deep with gratitude.