A New Zealand Travelogue
Well, I’m back. My trip to New Zealand passed by in a flash, and now it just feels like I was comatose for six weeks and had a lot of crazy dreams during that time. Thankfully, I have photographic and textual evidence that I was there, in the form of a bunch of pictures and the travel journal that I kept.
This post is my attempt to arrange the text and photos in an interesting way, mostly so I can relive the experience and document it for posterity’s sake. This post is going to be really long, so I expect zero people will actually read the whole thing, but I’m publishing it so that I feel the pressure to keep a high standard of quality.
I wrote a lot of things in my journal, some more personal than others. In the interest of maintaining my mysterious persona, I’m removing a lot of things I wrote, choosing to focus on my descriptions of the environments I saw. Sorry, nosy peeps.
Here we go. The story begins on…
Wednesday, January 28th: Day 0, 4:30PM
Here I am, in sunny San Francisco, about to embark on the most epic journey of my life thus far. That sounds hyperbolic, but I guess it really isn’t — six weeks, over half of it spent outdoors, is by all accounts an adventure, and by most accounts an epic one.
I believe that every physical journey is paralleled by an internal one — your mind before and after the journey are different. Journeys, after all, are about change, and I think the mental change is far more important than the act of physical translocation.
Every journey needs a destination, too, whether that’s a physical place to be reached, an objective to be achieved, or a state of consciousness to be experienced. In Into the Wild, Christopher McCandless didn’t set out for an abandoned bus in Alaska, but he did have a destination in mind. I’d say his destinations included escape, adventure, and a feeling of self-reliance.
Something about this New Zealand trip has been making me uneasy, and I think it’s that I don’t know my destination. Sure, we have plenty of mountains to climb and waypoints to hit, but what am I really seeking?
The best answer I can come up with is that I’ve always wanted to do this. Of course I do. I still want to do it. I’ve been talking and thinking about this trip for a year now. I think the talking is what’s gotten to me:
“I’m going to New Zealand.”
“That’s awesome! Are you excited? I’m so jealous.”
Yes, I am excited. I’ve said it a hundred times now, and I’ve been reassured it’ll be amazing. But then the doubt sets in: what if, like an overhyped movie, the trip flops? How do I make sure I do this trip justice, have as much fun as possible?
The bottom line is that I’ve let the conversation and anticipation pull me out of the present. I’ve been living in the future for a month now, planning and overthinking. As with so many other things in life, I just need to let go, dive into the present, and experience.
The planning and preparations are done. It’s time to go along for the ride. I’ll let Tolkien take it away:
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it finds some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
Saturday, January 31st: Day 2, 7:11PM
I’m sitting on a bench in Queenstown, next to Kolin, who is also journaling. I’m by the lake, and I have a clear view of the mountains. Gulls cry out annoyingly as tourists stroll by.
My first day and a half here has been action-packed. We drove somewhat incompetently (left-hand driving is weird) from the airport to Queenstown and got lunch at some burger place. The food here is good, but very expensive, at least in a tourist-saturated spot like Queenstown. We spent the evening meeting people in the lounge of our hostel and then went out. We swung by a place with live music and an older crowd, then went to The Find, an upstairs spot with decent DJs and a lot of young people.
Today we climbed Mt Alfred. It was a pretty steep hike — 1150 meters over ~3km — but we made really good time. The way up was foggy, but the clouds cleared as we reached the summit, allowing us to enjoy incredible views in all directions. The sun continued to shine on our way down.
The woods on our way up reminded me of Fangorn Forest — endless, lush green. The plateau on top was just like the hills where the wargs attack the people of Rohan traveling to Helm’s Deep, and the western side has a delta that looks like the one Aragorn rides over on his way there.
We were accompanied by Scott and Jamie, two guys we met at the hostel yesterday. They were good hiking buddies. It’s remarkable how groups can form so quickly when everyone is open to meeting new people.
Tomorrow’s a chill day, and then we’re off to the Dusky Track. Wish me luck.
Monday, February 2nd: Day 4, 7:35PM
I am currently not doused in water and covered with sandfly bites. This is because yesterday, we went to the DOC (Department of Conservation) Office to get hut passes for the Dusky Track, and we were told not to go because of “gale-force winds and snow.” Bummer. But I was pretty worried about the Dusky Track, so not going is actually quite a relief.
The tour company we were planning to go with told us about the Hollyford Track, a hike in the north of Fiordland that we’re now doing instead. It’s shorter (only 5 days), less dangerous (there is just one troublesome river crossing), we might see penguins (!), and we’ll get to fly out at the end over Milford Sound. We also get an extra few days in Queenstown. What’s not to like?
The plan for tomorrow is to drive down to Invercargill and just look around at some parks, beaches, etc. We don’t have any big plans. We just want to explore Southland. It’ll be an adventure, most likely a rainy one.
I feel increasingly at ease here. I think I’ll be able to sink into New Zealand the way I wanted before long.
Thursday, February 5th: Day 7, 9:00PM
In another unexpected turn of events, I’m in a hotel in Te Anau called the Village Inn.
The hotel rooms are decorated like an old town, with signs painted on the roof above every door. We’re in the confectionery.
Life hasn’t been sweet lately. Tuesday was, though, so let’s start with that. We drove down to Invercargill, at first through pouring rain but later through (literally) sunshine and rainbows.
We checked out local flora and fauna at Invercargill’s Queens Park (including a strange collection of dehydrated wood called a “stumpery”; is that really a thing?), then went to the industrial town of Bluff. There’s a great trek there along the southern coast. We took several opportunities to go off the trail and clamber onto the seaside rocks. Just relaxing in the sun and watching the waves was an awesome experience.
We then climbed onto Bluff Hill through surprisingly dense forests of interesting, almost savannah-like trees. The top of the hill gave us incredible views in all directions, as Bluff Hill is the most prominent point for miles around.
Last, we drove onto a windy, hard beach, where we got an epic picture: Kolin, Alfred (our car), and I, indomitable.
Alfred was murdered brutally the next day, when Kolin and I were inside the Queenstown DOC Office. Some tourist rammed into our parked car with enough speed to destroy the trunk and send Alfred forward, smashing into another parked car. We had to pay $2000 for damages since we only had partial insurance, but hopefully we’ll get it back because the police are charging this guy with “careless driving.” Damn tourists.
Thankfully our stuff was fine, and we got a replacement car of the same make and model, which we named Edgar. Edgar also has an awesome stereo system, which picks up a sweet EDM radio station and has an AUX cable input, so we can finally listen to our own music.
Sadly, Edgar is dead. Today, 8km from the start of the Hollyford Track, Edgar’s engine sputtered to a pitiful stop for no discernible reason. We walked 1km in pouring rain to a nearby shop/campground, where we were informed they had no telephone. We then hitchhiked 1.5 hours back to Te Anau. We called the rental company, got another replacement car, etc.
So here we are at the Village Inn, planning to wake up at 5am tomorrow so we can hit the Hollyford Track early and catch up with where we were supposed to be (two huts, 20km, but pretty flat). Basically, it’s been a bumpy ride, but we’ve been laughing the whole time. Come at me, world.
The trail beckons, so good night for now. Here’s to less mishaps and more footsteps soon.
Saturday, February 7th: Day 9, 9:15PM
We’re crushing it. We just did four days of hiking in two days, making up for the death of Edgar and then some. We’re at Hokuri Hut, the fourth hut along this track. Only one more hut to go (Martin’s Bay, our destination).
Yesterday was easy terrain. The trail was gravel, practically paved, with very little elevation change. We easily made it to Lake Alabaster Hut by mid-afternoon.
We tried to hang out by the beach, but then… sandflies. At least we assume that’s what these must be, because they’re relentless, numerous, and incredibly annoying. They’re tiny little creatures, seemingly innocuous at first, that suck little pinpricks of blood out of you. Their bites hurt, turn red, grow over time, and itch horribly.
Right now we’re lying in our tent, where the sound of sandflies jumping around and landing on the tent’s exterior is audible. There are so many that it sounds like a light drizzle. We’ve established a routine for diving into the tent quickly to avoid getting them inside, and we’ve become pretty solid sandfly exterminators. Kolin named our tent “Sandy Graves.”
Today was intense. The trail became significantly harder, with constant, rugged uphills and downhills (despite no net change in elevation). Lots of mossy, slippery rocks, ferns, and waterfalls with bridged crossings. Three-wire bridges are a lot of fun! It’s what I imagined Fiordland to be, but with less rain. It’s been beautiful out the past two days.
We hiked 26km today over 12 hours, definitely the most intense hiking of my life, and with my heaviest pack yet, no less. My moods today ranged from confident and determined to elated to downtrodden. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow, but this is what I came here to do and I’m loving it. I just wish there were fewer sandflies.
My favorite moment today was when Kolin forgot his hat at the Demon Trail Hut and went back to get it. I was left standing in the wilderness for 20 minutes. I was above sandfly elevation, so I just stood, watched the trees and the bees, and sang a little. Hoping for more moments like that throughout the rest of the trip.
Sunday, February 8th: Day 10, 10:15PM
Waves can be heard crashing on the shore nearby, and the occasional bird call pierces the otherwise quiet night air. We’re at Martin’s Bay, the end of the Hollyford Track, a day early. Awesome considering that we started a day late.
Today was interesting. Throughout the morning and afternoon I was in a bad mood — probably a result of the countless sandfly bites, overcast skies, and soreness from yesterday. I was aware of the fact that it was just a bad mood, but I couldn’t snap out of it. Even while walking along the side of beautiful Lake McKerrow, with gorgeous hills shrouded in fog in the background, all I could think about was how much my knee hurt.
I did enjoy walking through some interesting sections of track that were combinations of the mossy Fiordland we saw yesterday and the sandy beaches we’ve seen today, and by early afternoon we had arrived at the Martin’s Bay Hut.
We decided to build a fire by the beach. But first, we tried on some 30% DEET repellant that’s been sitting in my pack this whole time. It’s magical! I put it on my face, hands, and feet, and although the sandflies still swarmed me, they stopped biting, at least for ~1 hour. This was a serious game-changer.
We chopped some firewood and built the fire. It didn’t drive away the sandflies as we had hoped, but it was fun to sit around. We dried off our wet boots and socks on the fire, and built drying racks out of driftwood. Before long, we had added additional seating, a wall of sticks, an entrance, and a path framed by sticks, all driftwood. We named the site “Camp Driftwater,” both because of the driftwood and because the camp faces a spot where the Hollyford River meets the ocean in Martin’s Bay. It’s a really cool location, and I hope my pictures will do it justice.
Four guys — two German, two Canadian — joined us by the fire. We swapped travel stories and facts about our countries until the fire died, well past sunset. It was a great time.
All it took to turn my mood around was a stroke of luck (the DEET) and having an open-ended building task in front of me. Not sure what insight can be gleaned from this, so I’ll leave it at that.
Tomorrow, we spend the whole day here. The plan is to go look for seals (we’ll definitely find a lot of those) and penguins (they’re rare, but fingers crossed). Should be a relaxing day before our flight out. I’ll let the sounds of these waves and birds carry me off for now.
Monday, February 9th: Day 11, 9:30 PM
Penguin hunting today was fruitless, but it was a good day nonetheless.
We walked over to a rocky beach where a lot of seals hang out, and we spent the whole morning and afternoon exploring and relaxing by the shore. In the late afternoon, we walked back to camp slowly, making one last pass for penguins.
I saw some small paths leading into the jungle, so we decided to follow them. This led to an awesome jungle bushwhacking adventure, at the end of which we were on top of a hill overlooking Martin’s Bay to the south and Big Bay to the north. We made our way down haphazardly through the densest shrubbery I’ve ever seen.
After dinner, we went to watch the sunset from Camp Driftwater. The view was stunning as the sun sank behind the clouds, painting the sky in pastels of orange, green, indigo, and blue.
I set up a time lapse shot behind me, which I hope will turn out all right. While the camera was running, to my left I saw a great opportunity for an abstract shot: a lone, wispy pink cloud, suspended in the pastel sky over mountains shrouded in fog. It dissipated before I could capture it.
Saturday, February 14th: Day 16, 9:15PM
I’m currently in Siberia Valley, staying in the most beautiful campsite we’ve seen so far.
Waves of tall grass on the hills extend across the valley floor, sliced in half by the silvery blue of the Siberia River. Impressive mountains and waterfalls are all around us, and both ends of the valley feature gorgeous snowcapped mountains.
This is our second (and last) night of the Gillespie Pass Circuit. The first day, we parked our car on Highway 6 a little past Makarora and set out across farmland. We crossed the Makarora River, and then trekked 20km through the Young Valley floor and through foothills on either side of the Young River. I foolishly kept my boots on for the Makarora crossing, so my feet squelched with every step and were totally white by the end of the day. Noob move.
Today, we ascended to the Gillespie Pass, where we got a beautiful view of the inside of a cloud. Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.
Being inside the cloud was kind of cool, though. You could see the water droplets moving through the air inches from your face. The craziest thing was that if you looked closely at any rock, you’d see that its surface was constantly being peppered with miniature droplets, creating moisture on the surface before evaporating rapidly.
(you’ll have to look closely to see it, probably in HD)
The way down was hard on the knees, but they’ll be fine by tomorrow. I think all the stair climbing I did to prepare for this trip helped reduce the knee pain I used to get from downhill hikes. My left knee still hurts after that rocky Hollyford beach. It hurts specifically when I climb at moderate grades — flat ground and steep climbs rae fine. Some ibuprofen helped. Hopefully it’ll improve with time.
We met a number of fellow travelers on this track: Handsome Kiwi Man and his wife, the Argentinian couple, and the four Israeli guys. The Israelis recently finished a few years of military service, so they saved money and came here for a few months. They’re always chatting away in Hebrew. Us, them, and the Argentinians have played an Israeli card game called “Yaniv” for the last two nights. It’s pretty simple and great fun.
Sunday, February 15th: Day 17, 11:??PM
We woke up to a valley covered in fog. Frost had formed on the tent, and taking it down was a pain. On the other hand, the fog created an awesome, mysterious effect: the hills and river shrouded, while day broke on the spectacular mountains above.
Today’s hiking was long (22km), but largely flat. We spent a lot of time in meadows, walking through damp, waist-deep grass. This was one of the most peaceful experiences of the trip so far, and perhaps of my life. I kept trying to think about weighty subjects, but my mind kept going blank. I usually have the opposite problem.
After that, we crossed the Makarora again and tried to hitchhike down to our car. After a while with no success, some kiwis working at the café where we were waiting gave us a lift.
We’ve checked into the Makarora Tourist Centre (large A-frame room, 5 beds, all ours for some reason?), demolished dinner (Chicken Jägerschnitzel with awesome fries and a great sundae), and packed for tomorrow’s trip to Mueller Hut. We even tossed a disc around with two guys from SF who went to U. Michigan. Small world.
I just stepped out to use the bathroom and looked up, and saw the dark sky for the first time. There’s virtually no light pollution here in Makarora, so the view is incredible. I’ve seen a lot of amazing things in New Zealand, but these stars were truly awe-inspiring.
The longer you stare, the brighter they seem. How could you not connect these dots and construct mythic figures out of that inky night-sky ether? Pinpricks of various sizes through dark cloth, with a smudge here and there. Are those galaxies, even farther than the stars?
I’ve been thinking lately about two related ideas. First, broadly, I’ve been marveling at how much your bodily physiology affects your mood. This is a pretty obvious idea, but one along the lines of a shift I’ve been making in my life lately, from the cerebral to the visceral, from head to heart. Second, a subpoint, I’ve been thinking about pain and how it affects your mind and mood. My left knee still hurts, and I screwed up my right knee today during an off-the-trail rock scramble along the edge of the river we were following. Pain slices through enjoyment and even normalcy like a heated knife, pulling you into a mode of survival and basic need. It kills off any higher pleasures in your mind.
Anyway, off to bed now. Big day tomorrow.
Monday, February 16th: Day 18, 7:57PM
I’m at Mueller Hut, a well-stocked, touristy hut that is filled to capacity. This is for good reason: the surroundings are stunning. We hiked up here today and then scrambled up 30 minutes to Mt Ollivier, where I got the best view I’ve ever seen in my life.
The western side of Ollivier is flanked by a massive glacial canyon, clearly formed over millennia of ice crushing everything in its path.
To the north you can see Mt Cook in all its glory, a mere 15km away, so close and yet so unreachable.
The eastern side is a broad valley, containing Mt Cook Village and stretching southward towards a massive greenish-blue lake whose name escapes me.
I’ve left out a lot — the rows of mountains to the east, the glacial pools a sickly hue of green — but you get the essence of the place. The summit is warm, shielded from the wind, and not even that highly trafficked. This might be my new favorite place on earth.
Getting here wasn’t easy. The hike was constantly uphill, burning even the fittest legs. Far worse, my knees were killing me. My left has gotten a bit better, but my right was excruciating. I considered not going on to Mt Ollivier, but I’m so glad I did.
Today was definitely the most painful day of hiking I’ve ever had. Needless to say, the thoughts I had about pain over the last few days were at the forefront of my mind.
There are other things I want to remember about today, but I don’t know what to say about them, so I’ll just list them below.
- The mysterious glider plane that sounds like a Banshee from Halo
- All the keas flying around here
- My perfectly unmolten summit Snickers
- European girls’ unabashed smiles
- Some guy doing the Saruman Caradhras chant
Tomorrow we head off to Christchurch.
Tuesday, February 17th: Day 19, 11:16PM
Ow. My knee really hurts.
Just iced it here in our Christchurch hostel, which helped a little, but it might be too little, too late. Fortunately I have a few rest days here in Christchurch, so hopefully that’ll be enough to help it feel better. Our next hike, in three days, is Avalanche Peak, one of the steepest we’re doing. I should sit it out if I don’t feel better over the next few days. I don’t want to break myself again.
Today’s events: climbed down from Mueller Hut, which hurt a lot. Drove over and walked ~30 mins to see Tasman Glacier. It’s so huge that looking at it from a nearby hill, you struggle to get a sense of perspective. It feels like you’ve somehow zoomed out your view of the world, so everything looks tiny but is actually massive.
Drove to Edoras, which was cool to see. Discovered there’s a DOC trail to walk onto it, which we did. It was awesome to be at one of the actual filming locations of Lord of the Rings.
Generally, sitting with my knee immobile worsens the pain considerably, while keeping it moving feels better. However, I think the movement (especially climbing uphill or stairs) makes it a lot worse, and the pain just doesn’t catch up to me till I sit still. This pattern of “It feels better when I do stuff, so I’ll keep doing stuff!” is exactly what screwed up my back. I really shouldn’t repeat that mistake.
Sunday, February 22nd: Day 24, 5:38PM
I’ve had an easy last few days.
On Friday I drove to Arthur’s Pass, where I dropped Kolin off so he could go climb Avalanche Peak, while I looked for easier alternatives in the area. I ended up climbing an easy trail to a waterfall, and then bouldering past the trail’s end for better views and pictures.
Flock Hill Lodge was great. Had our own rooms for the first (and last?) time this trip. Buffet meals were dangerous.
Yesterday morning, we went horseback riding, which was a lot of fun. Getting a horse to do what you want is very psychological, so obviously I loved it. Unclear how much control I actually had because I was on a beginner’s horse. I’d love to do it more, but owning a horse is expensive and/or time-consuming, and just doing trips like this feels kind of lame.
Yesterday afternoon we drove to Nelson and chilled at this gorgeous apartment. Sunset, fancy dinner, stargazing, sleep. Saw my second shooting star of the trip and still had no idea what to wish for.
My knee feels good today! Not perfect, but it’s a lot better. Hope it holds up. Steep climb tomorrow to Lake Angelus, which will probably be rainy.
Tuesday, February 24th: Day 26, 8:30PM
Sitting at the Coldwater Hut right now, the second night of the Lake Angelus track. This hut is situated next to a lake. Waves idyllically lap against the shore, and a dock juts into the greying water.
The first day of this hike (yesterday), we walked along the Robert Ridge Track after switchbacking up several hundred meters along a well-formed moderate-grade track.
It was cloudy and visibility was poor, but the track was still incredible. The cliffs fell away sharply on either side, affording views into the distance or into the clouds (mostly clouds for us). Just looking along the ridgeline was awesome, though. The landscape was unlike any I’ve ever seen.
We were far above the treeline, so the mountain was decorated solely with stunted green shrubs and sharp, desolate rocks. The latter ranged in color from black to grey to an evil orange-red.
My knee felt steadily worse throughout the day, and I was back to a limp by the time we arrived at Angelus Hut. Sitting for a few hours made it a lot better, but today was the same deal even though we hiked a lot less. I think I just need to give it some rest. Not sure when I’ll get that chance while I’m in New Zealand, though.
Yesterday at the hut we ran into the Israeli guys from Siberia Valley again. We got there pretty early, so first we taught them euchre, which they picked up very quickly. They’re sharp guys. I hadn’t played euchre since high school, but the ~7 games we played brought it all back. Of course, we ended the night with a game of Yaniv, now with the added point system which adds a lot of excitement.
Yaniv has become our bonding experience with hutmates. It’s easy to teach, complex enough to get better at, and flexible enough to accommodate different numbers of people. The French and Danish guys here in Coldwater Hut love it. In fact, everybody does. We’ll probably bring it back to SF, or at least to Palantir.
I’ve been hitting the fun parts of the Silmarillion, so I’ve been flying through it. It’s truly a collection of tales on an epic scale. Getting sucked into that world from time to time has been a nice escape within an escape.
Tomorrow we say goodbye to the South Island and hello to Wellington!
Thursday, February 26th: Day 28, 8:07PM
Wellington is sweet. Our hostel, Nomads, is located at the heart of Wellington, right next to Cuba Street and Courtenay Ave, the main thoroughfares lined with hipster shops and bars. Wellington is culturally rich, and feels like a real city. I could totally see myself living here for a while, unlike in Queenstown, which was just a bit too crazy.
We got here yesterday via ferry. After a slow morning, we played a game of Yaniv with Max and Jonas and then set out. We moved quickly along the trail, then got our car and gave the two guys a ride to their farm, where they’ll be WWOOFing. They were a fun pair to hang out with.
The Interislander ferry was practically a cruise. Hot meals on board, with ample space… it was impressive.
Sunday, March 1st: Day 31, 11:57AM
One does not simply walk into Mordor, which is why we’re driving most of the way there right now. We’ll kick off Tongariro in a few hours and climb Mt Doom tomorrow.
On Friday, we spent the morning reading at a café and then picked up Katherine to go for a scenic drive, lunch, and head to the Red Rocks on the southern coast. The drive was pleasant, and we got lunch at the Chocolate Fish Café, which is apparently a favorite of Peter Jackson’s. The Red Rocks themselves were an interesting spot. Much smaller than I expected, but with great views of Wellington and Cook Strait.
The hike today was only three hours, so it wasn’t very tiring at all. As the day went on, we got closer and closer to Mt Doom, which loomed forebodingly above us (actually named Mt Ngauruhoe). As we got closer, we could see the terrain on the mountain, a sinister-looking combination of black igneous and red oxidized rocks. Very excited to get up there tomorrow.
This evening was gorgeous. To the east you can see Mt Doom in all its sinister glory, along with the ridge we’ll climb tomorrow to get there. The whole path is visible, making the summit seem accessible but still incredibly foreboding. To the north and south are hills and cliffs, comforting in a way, but who knows — orcs could be just on the other side. To the west hills roll downward into a vast plain, which the setting sun lit up with hues of fiery orange. It was somehow just as sinister as the fiery volcano on the other side, but far more mercurial.
The moon shone brightly to the northeast throughout the evening, but now its light can only be inferred from the shrouded glow that lightens the dark clouds creeping above.
Tomorrow will be intense but should be incredibly rewarding. And my knee feels better! We’ll see if that holds up.
Monday, March 2nd: Day 32, 9:40PM
Damn. The views and landscapes I experienced today were absolutely incredible. You keep thinking you’ve found your favorite place in this country, and then it just keeps giving you more.
We started early this morning at 6am, and were on the trail by 7. We were definitely the first people out of camp, but others had started the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, presumably from the car park close to our hut. We passed these people by, so Kolin was the first person at the top and I was one of the first ten or so. I was slower due to knee trouble.
The summit was awesome. On the southern side there was a ridge with two high points, each with glorious, unobstructed views for miles and miles.
The northern side contained the crater, a red-and-black monstrosity whose creation in an explosive instant one can only imagine. I tried to capture its scale on camera, but I just don’t think it’s possible.
We spent a total of about four hours on the summit, hanging out, walking around the high points, and eating lunch. The ambient temperature was chilly and the winds were high, but it didn’t actually feel that cold. The first few hours, we were constantly in clouds, but unlike the Gillespie Pass, these clouds were moving due to the high winds. The result was alternating periods of crystal-clear views into the distance and complete envelopment in dense fog. The switches between these extremes sometimes occurred in as little as 20 seconds. If you looked north into the wind, the effect of watching clouds rapidly approach and engulf you was highly disorienting.
I took a lot of pictures, because I wanted to capture what I was experiencing. I’m sure some will turn out well, but I was reminded of something I’ve written about before — the artist’s curse, pulling me out of the present because of the desire to crystallize experience into some sort of artistic product. I’m obviously just an amateur photographer, but even I could feel the effects of that creator’s curse.
The way down was fun. We slid down a sheer slide of loose soil, which was fun to do and easy on the knees. Then the terrain changed to a slide of small rocks, then bigger rocks… by the time I reached the bottom, my knees were in bad shape again. This is our last big hike of the trip though, so hopefully it’ll all be better from now on.
The hike to Mt Ngauruhoe was actually a side trip from our main route, which led to a ridge, through a crater, over another ridge, to the Emerald Lakes (which look beautiful but smell terrible), and then downhill and flat to today’s hut.
That last section, the downhill and flat, felt like the true Mordor experience. Sharp black rocks jutted out of a barren, black landscape composed of volcanic sand. You could easily imagine Frodo and Sam stumbling through this terrain, avoiding the legions of orcs hidden all around them.
To the right side of the trail you could see both of the major volcanoes in the National Park — Ngauruhoe and Ruapehu. It’s an incredible view, and we have that same view from the Oturere Hut where we’re staying tonight. I look forward to experiencing more of it tomorrow.
Saturday, March 7th: Day 37, 8:30PM
Today’s our last night in Auckland before we depart for the Te Paki Coastal Track tomorrow.
Te Paki is some decent distances, but should be pretty flat, and it’s only three days. My knees have been pretty much fine since Mt Doom, but my left foot mysteriously hurts now. I don’t think Te Paki should make it much worse, though, and after that I’ll be heading home.
Auckland’s a Real City, which means 24/7 bustle, many neighborhoods, and many ways to spend money. The food here is incredible and actually pretty cheap. I could eat $10 Chicken Mee Gorengs for the rest of my life. Yesterday was the worst: we had breakfast at a Belgian waffle truck, lunch at an awesome dumpling place, got the best gelato I’ve ever had at Giapo, split a Chicken Mee Goreng for dinner, and got kebabs later. Total for the day was ~$45, which is actually not bad at all given how amazing the food was.
The weather’s been pretty bad, derailing our day trip plans. Yesterday we just walked to Mt Eden, the tallest hill in Auckland (it’s a pretty flat place). Today we took a ferry to Rangitoto Island, where we hiked up to the volcanic crater and spelunked a little in the lava caves. Even here, nature is so close by that you can make it to all sorts of interesting landscapes any day.
Stepping onto a trail, I can feel my consciousness melt away as the flow of the hike takes over. It’s something I’ll need to make sure I keep experiencing in the future.
Real life’s knocking at the door. I have to answer two work emails, figure out housing, deal with flights, think about moving stuff from Ohio to SF… Just need to keep my head clear and make sure the stuff I need to deal with doesn’t drag me down into my predictable, characteristic melancholy.
Sunday, March 8th: Day 38, 5:30PM
I’m in heaven.
Or at least in the location where I’d film the shores of Valinor, if I were filming a Silmarillion movie. I’m on top of a plateau overlooking — from east to south — rolling green pastures, gigantic sand dunes, and golden shores into which layers of majestic waves are rhythmically crashing.
To get here, we walked along a seemingly infinite beach, then climbed up a mist-covered staircase into lush green hills.
We saw a few cars drive past us along the way, but we’ve been up here an hour and haven’t seen a soul. There weren’t even any footsteps on the beach. This area is dramatically isolated, a true escape from anything human and civilized. No wonder the Maori believed this is where souls came to jump off towards heaven. This is a place that perfectly balances constant motion — the wind, the waves — and perpetual calm.
As I expected, this will be the perfect way to wrap up our time in New Zealand. The track isn’t hard, leaving plenty of time to think. What do I need or even want to think about? I’m not sure. But I’m letting my mind drift to whatever it fancies, and I’ll let it set its own course.
I have a lot to look forward to. I don’t say that lightly, and it’s important that I say that here, in a place where I feel like I have perspective, where these incessant waves give me a sense of wisdom. They’ve beaten upon these shores for millennia and will continue to do so long after I’m gone.
Optimism in a place like this feels deep and unadulterated and credible. The horizon glows silver and gold.
Monday, March 9th: Day 39, 9:15PM
Not sure how to follow up yesterday’s grandiosity, so here’s a simple description:
Today we made it through a day and a half of trekking, starting at Twilight Bay and ending at Pandora Bay. Along the way we hit Cape Reinga, New Zealand’s northernmost point (swarming with tourists), as well as Tapotepotu Bay (which I will never pronounce correctly), a chill campervan area with an awesome beach. It was much more elevation than expected, because we had to hike over several hills along the coastline. With yesterday and today combined, we’ve climbed well over 1000m.
Now we’re at the Pandora Microcamp, which we have all to ourselves. There’s a sweet little covered area where we ate dinner and hung out, and the beach is close by, so you can hear the waves. It’s an awesome location.
Tomorrow will be only three hours of hiking, so today was our last significant day. I’ll miss crushing absurd amounts of elevation on a regular basis and that feeling of excitement when you summit something. I’ll need to try and keep that up in SF, for my happiness and so I can keep my legs in shape, because they look pretty great right now.
Tuesday, March 10th: Day 40, ~10PM?
Wow, 40 days in NZ. Today we wrapped up our last multi-day trek.
It’s hard to believe they’re all over, but I have to say they all lived up to my very high expectations. The landscapes were so diverse and yet all so stunning. I’m sure I’ll come back here someday. I want to experience these places again, and there’s so much more in New Zealand that I have yet to see.
We woke up last night to the sound of something rustling through our stuff. Or at least Kolin did… I would’ve slept straight through it. It was a large marsupial creature, about two feet tall with a long tail and big eyes. It had unzipped the brain of my pack and pulled out several Ziploc bags, throwing them on the ground. Kolin got out and scared it off, but it came back so I went after it. I secured our bags so it couldn’t open the zipper again. It was a strange encounter, especially because it seemed very unafraid of us, retreating just a few feet and watching us with its big nocturnal eyes. I named him Jake, after the main character of Avatar, the movie set on the planet Pandora, since we were at the Pandora Campsite.
Lots of mosquitoes at Pandora. Not as bad as the Fiordland sandflies, but still pretty bad.
Today’s hike was uneventful. Crushed some uphill, then descended through hills and marshland onto a long, soft beach. We walked barefoot part of the way, then hung out through the afternoon. It got cloudy and drizzled a bit, but the rain and chill was actually pretty refreshing.
We walked the rest of the way, then got picked up by our driver Peter. Peter is absolutely hilarious, and probably my favorite person I’ve met in New Zealand. He’s a Maori from Northland who’s never left the North Island, and has no desire to do so. But he’s smart, charismatic, and knowledgeable. He just likes his chill Northland lifestyle. Some stories:
- He used to “murder pigs” for a living, electrocuting them. He got arrested for saying this to a cop.
- He once found a beached sperm whale outside his home on Ninety Mile Beach. He chainsawed it open and towed out the whale shit, which is used in perfume. He made $30k, which he blew in two weeks in Kaitaia, a tiny town nearby.
- He found a surfboard with a missing strap and some shark bite marks.
…and plenty more. Great guy.
Off to Auckland tomorrow! It’ll be a fun last few days.
Thursday, March 12th: Day 42, ~6:30PM
I’m in the basement of the mall on our block, waiting on the Malaysian Chicken Curry Laksa I just ordered. I haven’t had it before, but I’m sure it’ll be awesome.
Can’t believe it’s only been two days since my last entry. Yesterday we woke up at Waitiki Landing and went sandboarding. Sandboarding is when you grab a standard-issue boogie board, carry it to the top of a gigantic sand dune, and ride it down. After we were done, we read signs with various rules (“only ride the board down on your stomach!”), literally all of which we had broken.
We rode the boards standing up and wiped out into the sand spectacularly on almost every run, collecting bruises and accumulating sand in our mouths, eyes, ears, and hair. In other words, it was totally awesome, an absolutely ace experience. We definitely improved our technique, enough so that Kolin made it to the very bottom of the steepest hill before wiping out, doing a barrel roll, and landing on his lower back, bruising it to such an extent that he’s still struggling to bend down and walk today. He’ll be all right.
The rest of the day: we drove back to Auckland, got Malaysian food, went to Andrew Andrew, and then got food at Avachi. I’ve somehow neglected to mention Avachi so far. It’s a late-night kebab place that’s ridiculously cheap: $5 NZD for a lamb burger stacked with lettuce, tomatoes, and great sauces. I joked when I first saw the place, “Hey, that’s Avicii’s less successful little brother,” but Avachi is certainly a talented guy.
Today we drove to the Coromandel Peninsula, which was buffeted by minor rain showers that turned into torrential thunderstorms as we were driving out. We went to Cathedral Cove, where we found shelter from the drizzle under a cliff, and where I read some of Midnight’s Children. I wouldn’t say it’s flying by, but I’m getting through it much quicker than I expected. I can feel Rushdie’s voice leaking into the words I write now — it has an absurdism, a lighthearted irreverence, to it.
We also drove to see a waterfall. It was a perfectly decent cascading step waterfall, but I just stared at it and the best response I could muster was an adolescent shrug. “That’s cool, I guess.” Maybe I need to give nature a break. I’ve become jaded and spoiled in this country, with enough natural spectacle to fill a lifetime jammed into a few weeks.
Saturday, March 14th: Day 45?, 3:40PM PST
And just like that, here I am in SFO, an ocean away, left wondering: did that really just happen?
Transitions back to normalcy after a journey are weird. In most ways, nothing has changed, but this observation seems bizarre. Shouldn’t something be different? Shouldn’t I have missed something? In the end, though, you realize that things carry on, with or without you. Returning from a journey is an isolating experience.
On the other hand, you feel changed. For now, I feel less anchored to the phone in my pocket. I feel better at stopping everything and just watching what’s happening around me. Having lived in the backcountry and in crappy hostels for so long, I feel startled to enter a clean, well-lit bathroom. I keep imagining there are flies landing on my arms and I keep trying to swat them away.
I see a slice of San Francisco through the window to my right, and it’s not a bad sight. But I already miss the heavenly expanses of Northland, the ominous Tongariro sunsets. I’ll need to go back before long.
I feel myself sinking back into a web of social connectedness. There are texts to send, Skype sessions to set up, catching up that ought to be done.
This trip is over, but the next month is going to be crazy. Home this week, SF the next, NYC the next, SF and hopefully moving into an apartment the next... I don’t think I’ll have a chance to breathe.
I should just focus on my flow, my process of getting things done and getting situated. Fulfillment and peace will follow. When things get crazy, hopefully I’ll be able to channel what I felt in New Zealand — relaxed, content disengagement and a genuine optimism. Cheers, mate.
