New Zealand: Stories from the Road

Part 7

Into the tourist crush

After the isolation of much of the North Island I actually found myself quite happy to be amongst people again as I ventured into the tourist hotspots of the South Island. Although, as trained by my father, I have devoted much of my life to avoiding people and any place in which large numbers of people are inclined to gather. After one too many nights being the only people at a campsite, however, I was all too happy to willingly throw myself into the unforgiving throng of tourists. Upon approaching Lake Wanaka I began to feel that wonderfully familiar feeling that comes with being part of something much bigger than yourself. Whilst it is one of the best feelings in the world to be in a beautiful place and feel as though you alone discovered it, it is a similarly fantastic feeling to approach a very well-known beautiful place and pat yourself on the back for not missing something that everyone else managed to find.

By far the hottest of hotspots in New Zealand, and I think everyone will agree, is Queenstown. Before going there, it had been described to me, by multiple people, as a ‘crazy place.’ Well, after visiting it myself I can tell you with absolute certainty: Queenstown is a crazy place.

The adventure capital of the world, Queenstown immediately gave me the sense that all sorts of people were participating in all sorts of activities all around me. For the first time in quite some time I felt as though I was part of something exciting without even having to do anything. On the road into town we passed mountain bike trails and jet boat tours and ATV tracks. The sky was even studded with paragliders and parachuters and hot air ballooners. The sheer energy of the place was enough to exhaust me before I even stepped out of the van (which at my height was an exhausting enough task on its own). I was very suddenly swept away by the fantasy of being an adrenaline-junkie-type person and working a season here and having the time of my life. We even found the pull of the renowned Ferg Bakery enough to draw us back in for a second time as we passed nearby again.

Those few days, however, did prove more than enough of a dose of ‘people’ for me and I was desperate to get back to the peaceful, isolated beaches I’d grown accustomed to. Not to worry, there were plenty of those to come.

Red alert: threat to life

I knew it was time to get out of New Zealand when, for the thousandth time, plans had to be changed because of the weather. This time, however, was a little different than the others. After positively blissful weather following the great escape (under threat of avalanche) from Milford Sound I had begun to think that maybe summer had finally arrived and it would all be clear skies from here on, so to speak. Obviously, I jinxed it.

We had just about made it out with our lives after some strong winds around Arthur’s Pass and were headed towards Hamner Springs, under the impression that the wind was supposed to die down. As we rose once more into the mountains it became clear that the wind had not, in fact, died down at all. We decided to pull over and check the weather forecast again to see when it would be safe to drive. That’s when I saw it. ‘Red weather warning for wind, threat to life’. We beat a hasty retreat to a relatively sheltered campsite near a random town we had never planned on visiting and settled in to make some new plans for the next few days. The more I read about the weather warning, however, the more it became clear that there would be no plans tomorrow. Whilst our little van was pretty powerful and nifty it was also rather tall, rather narrow, and rather light. As you may know this does not make for a winning combination in strong winds. Especially not winds strong enough to earn a red weather warning.

It transpired that I had absolutely made the right decision. We spent the entirety of the next day holed up in our little van, periodically checking the weather to see new stories of lorries being tipped over, roofs being ripped off houses, rapidly spreading wildfires and mass power outages. The story was even making the international news. In hindsight, we got off incredibly lightly. Whilst it was just about all I could do to stay upright as I staggered to and from the toilets, at least we still had a roof. Let me assure you, though, at the time it did not feel as though we had got off lightly at all. I experienced boredom like I had never experienced boredom before. By midday all the snacks had been eaten and by mid-afternoon everything I had downloaded to watch had been burned through. It was a bonding experience with Cam I certainly hadn’t expected and I really do think I could patent it as some kind of couples test. Test being the operative word as it was pretty bloody testing.

Leave only footprints, take only memories

As the trip was coming to a close I began to reflect on the best moments. There were certainly a fair few lowlights, the lack of hygiene and a couple of frosty moments between me and Cam come to mind. However, I had already started to see the trip through those magical rose-tinted glasses. I started to reminisce on all the highlights of the trip. Although there are actually too many to count, in fact, the whole trip was a highlight, there are a couple of special shining moments that I definitely won’t forget.

I was lucky enough to discover two new places to add to the list of my favourite places in the world. The first being Cosy Nook Cove. Nestled right at the southern tip of the South Island and hidden miles away from anywhere, Cosy Nook Cove is a stunning little sheltered cove housing a few tiny cottages, fishing boats in various states of repair (some of them maybe better described as piles of wood rather than boats), and a rocky shoreline that blends from dark grey to a very soft, rusty brown before falling away into the sea. It was the most peaceful place I had ever been, and it was all I could do to drag myself away. I was all for buying a house and staying there forever, far from where anyone could find me unless I wanted them to.

The second favourite place I found was marginally less secret. It is the beautiful city of Dunedin, a student town with a strong Scottish heritage and a repeatedly reinforced connection to Edinburgh (perhaps that’s why I loved it so much, it reminded me so much of home). When I arrived in Dunedin I have to say I fell in love with it straight away. It reminded me so strongly of Edinburgh, my second home, and I felt as though it had welcomed me with open arms. As luck would have it, we found ourselves with a few extra days to kill and, for the first time the entire trip, we decided to stay longer because of the weather rather than leave earlier (perhaps that’s another reason why I loved it so much). Dunedin was also the site of one of the funniest moments of the trip. As we were driving into the city we were stopped for a routine breathalyser test. Cam was asked by the breathalyser-wielding police officer to count to ten, whereupon he seemingly not only forgot how to count but, in fact, how to speak altogether. It may well have been the delirium that had well and truly set in by that point but I felt it was the funniest thing that had ever happened.

I can’t talk about highlights without mentioning Martinborough. Martinborough is a town not far from Wellington that is most famous for having a proportionately massive number of wineries in relation to the size of the town, which is only home to around 1,900 people. The best thing about this town is that a large number of these wineries (amongst which include many of the top wineries in New Zealand) are within walking distance of each other. The strict budget for the trip was well and truly thrown out of the window as we sampled as many of these wineries as we could before we physically couldn’t stand up anymore. It felt like that day didn’t just define the trip, but defined me and Cam as a couple (although I should probably assure you we can, in fact, have fun together sober as well). It showed me that this wasn’t just the trip of a lifetime – even though, of course, it was – it was just that: a lifetime, or rather, part of one. Part of an entire life together, that seems to be amazing wherever we end up.