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I Would Drive 500 Miles…Just to Hike 20 More
I compile my items and hop in the car to drive from Kaikōura to Karamea. From East Coast to West Coast in one day. New Zealand is such a small country. But...also not that small. It's 263 miles, but will take seven hours. Distance-wise it's like driving from Longmont to North Platte, Nebraska. But it will take almost twice as long.
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Dizzy and Delighted in Kaikoura
Kaikoura is one of those places that I didn't imagine could exist before I arrived. What I mean by that specifically: I had never before imagined a place where snowy mountains met the sea in such a combination of wild coast and snow-capped crowns. Nor could I have possibly imagined swimming in that ocean the morning after a frosty night ushered in a fresh layer of snow for those toothy mountains.
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The North of the South: Picton to Golden Bay
Crossing the Cook Strait between the North Island and the South Island felt like embarking on a completely new adventure. Perhaps it was the high expectations. Afterall, nearly every person I've spoken to, kiwi and traveler alike, told me the South Island was the best island, that it would blow my mind, that it was far more beautiful. All of these expectations bubbled in the back of my mind like a boiling pot even as I tried to suppress them. High expectations often lead to disappointment.
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1 Year of New Zealand Selfies: September & October
The adventure continues! In September and October, I explored the middle of the North Island, and then took the plunge and went to the South Island!
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Photos from the Kaimai Range
I visited the Kaimai Range several times while I was staying in Whiritoa, so they were disjointed visits. Hour long drives out and back through small towns and straight roads (shocking, but the Waikato region nearby actually has straight roads!). However, since I visited about three times in the span of three weeks, there is no backbone to the whole area and no experience here that was particularly noteworthy, other than loving all the waterfalls. It's simply a pretty and deserving-of-visitors region, so I'm adding my favorite photos and maybe a few comments--mostly for me. Because I'll look back at this blog in three, five, and ten years, and want…
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A Kaleidoscope of Rotorua and Taupo – Central North Island of New Zealand
Rotorua is a geothermal town. Think of Yellowstone National Park, but with a town built on top. Steam comes out of grates in the ground or wafts over roads and walking paths in the park--and not the kind of park where ducks swim in the water and toddlers splash around in the summer.
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Waitomo, NZ: Finding Little Lights in the Dark
Last Monday, I drove away from Whiritoa, and I felt set adrift. Uncertain. Lost, even. Suddenly I'm wondering why I have chosen to be half a world away from all the people who know and love me. Experiencing the glow worm region of New Zealand reminded me that I am an explorer. It doesn't make it easier being away from home, but denying the part of me that desires exploration and adventure is also not something I want to do. So I'm taking the hardships with the triumphs, day-by-day, the lights with the dark.
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Circling the Coromandel Peninsula in Winter
The Coromandel Peninsula is deceptively small on a map of New Zealand's North Island. It juts from the land mass on the east side, across from Auckland. On summer Fridays, the roads are jam-packed with cars streaming out of Auckland and headed to the Coromandel's beaches. With only a few roads running through the peninsula (one of them closed due to slips), and most of them as twisty-turny as my small intestine, I was glad to visit during the New Zealand winter.
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My Pinnacles Experience: Hiking to Great Heights
First, I bought a sleeping bag. And that meant I had to do it. Hike the Pinnacles. Stay overnight in the DOC (Department of Conservation) hut. And (hopefully) love it--because one measly overnight stay wasn't going to justify the sleeping bag purchase. The Pinnacles Hut is the most popular hut in New Zealand.
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A Hidden Paradise in Whiritoa, New Zealand
On Google Maps, Whiritoa looks like a beach town at the very bottom of the Coromandel Peninsula on the east coast. As I drove in through 16 kilometers of windy S-curves and 180-degree switchbacks, and then entered the town, I realized that I had been wrong. This was no town. Rather, it was a collection of a few hundred houses clustered around the beach. A single cafe provided snacks and a few staples (bread, butter, milk), but anything beyond would require the twenty minute trek into town. I wondered where the hell I had just based myself for the next month. The answer:
