New Zealand

New Zealand is a small, but extremely diverse country, and perfect for the single traveler. I spent a month there in December of 2002 and left wanting more. My first two weeks were spent on a hiking, biking and sea kayaking tour with a group of about 10 people. I found that two weeks was a bit much to spend with a large group, but as it was one of my first international expeditions, it felt safer than striking out on my own.

During the two weeks we covered a huge amount of territory, which is one of the best reasons to join in on a group tour. Every detail was taken care of and our guides (who were both fantastic) spoiled us rotten by carrying all the heavy food and equipment on long hikes, cooking us great meals and looking after us when we fell down mountains.

New Zealand is divided into two islands (north and south) and for such a small country the variety in terrain is incredible. Kiwis, the commonly used name for New Zealanders, are very warm and hospitable people who invented bunjy jumping and several other "extreme" sports. Although most of my time in New Zealand was spent on pre-arranged group trips, I found it very accessible to single travelers and had no problems while traveling on my own. My adventure began in the south on a trip that involved mostly hiking, but also a little sea kayaking and cycling.

I booked through a company called Active New Zealand and found the organizers very flexible and accommodating, as I had to join the group a day late due to work obligations. Upon arrival I was met by two guides (they always have one male and one female looking after clients) and joined the group for lunch at a winery in Blenheim. After a little food and some wine tasting, we were off to a trek called the Angelus Circuit, a 3-day excursion in the Nelson Lakes National Park that begins at St. Arnaud and continues along the eastern shore of Lake Rotoiti. The first day of tramping (Kiwi for trekking) was relatively flat with rolling hills, but it poured and poured the entire way. After 3 hours in the rain I was thrilled to arrive at Lakehead Hut, the DOC (Department of Conservation) cabin in which we slept the first night.

Upon opening my pack to find some dry socks, I found that just about everything except my sleeping bag was somewhere between damp and soaking wet (despite my high-end "waterproof" pack) so it’s a good idea to be prepared with trash bags in case you run into similarly wet weather. I managed to find some dryish socks and then hung everything else up over the fire.

The next day's 5½-hour trek was challenging; a 3,700-foot ascent while carrying a 30-pound pack, with most of the incline concentrated into the last hour and a half of hiking. The toughest thing was to put soaking wet boots on first thing in the morning, but 5 minutes into the hike we had to cross a knee-deep river with a strong current, so the feet were destined to spend the day wet. Despite the bad weather the trail was beautiful; streams, falls, and plenty of lush terrain.

During the final, steep ascent to Angelus Hut, the wind was so strong that it was hard to stand upright. When the sign for Angelus Hut finally appeared through the mist and clouds we were elated; there was such a great feeling of accomplishment and triumph.

Unfortunately, the weather never let up and we were deprived of the awesome views afforded on a clear day. Conditions were so bad the next morning that instead of descending along the ridgeline we were forced to return the way we had come the previous day. Due to an unfortunate combination of bad hiking boots, wet grass, and missing a trail marker, I ended up taking a bad tumble down the mountain. When the dust settled nothing was broken, but I was quite bruised and battered for the rest of the trip. The guide who saw me fall literally flew down to my landing point in a matter of seconds and had the situation under control instantly. That night we drove to Punakaiki for dinner, hot showers, and warm, soft beds.

Punakaiki is a small town on the West Coast of the South Island, famous for its abundant rain forest and the unusual pancake rocks on the coast at Dolomite Point. The 30,000-hectare area encompassing Punakaiki, called Paparoa, was declared a national park in 1987.

In the morning we headed out to Dolomite Point and took the paved walkway that wound past several of the unique limestone formations. These thin, layered rocks looked like stacked pancakes and were formed millions of years ago on the bottom of the ocean by a chemical process called "stylobedding". Eventually they were pushed above the water and gradually became eroded by the waves. Now these unusual rock formations have arches and underwater caverns with blowholes. The weather was still stormy and turbulent, but here the wind was a plus because the blowholes put on an impressive display with lots of spray.

After the short loop along the coast, we got back on the bus and drove to a nearby trail that took us on a beautiful and easy walk through the rain forest. Nikau palms, ferns and lots of other vegetation abounded as we walked along the sparkling river. The sun snuck through small openings in the sheltering trees and the light was gorgeous.

After lunch it was back on the bus and onwards down the coast to Okarito. We were still on the West Coast, but now in the middle of the South Island. Instead of another full day of hiking, we were treated to a morning of sea kayaking in the Okarito Lagoon. As we glided along the still waters, in and out of narrow areas lined with foliage and alongside tall grasses, we were treated to a variety of birdcalls; my favorite belonged to a tiny, native New Zealand bird called the Bellbird.

After lunch about half the group joined one of our guides for a beautiful walk along some rugged coastline. The waves were intense and left thick patches of foam as they returned back to the ocean. We climbed over and around the large boulders enjoying their intricately striped patterns.

The next morning arrived with our first blue sky in almost a week. The timing was perfect, as heli-hiking on Franz Josef Glacier awaited. With great anticipation and several carefully packed sausage sandwiches we arrived at the heli-hiking departure point only to be told that the winds were too strong for the helicopters to safely take us up the glacier. Plan "B" immediately went into effect and the rest of the morning was spent doing some shorter hikes plus a quick trip to Fox Glacier.

The next stop was Queenstown, undoubtedly the adventure capital of New Zealand. It sits on Lake Wakatipu and stares right up at the "Remarkables", an impressive mountain range. This town is extremely touristy but caters to thrill seekers, so you won’t be inundated by kitsh. Activities range in scope from simple hiking trips to insane adrenaline rushes.

I decided to try paragliding and it was great. The experience involved jumping off a high cliff strapped to something resembling a parachute, hoping the guy steering knew what he was doing. My guide did know what he was doing and my 40 minutes in the air were thrilling, not to mention filled with great views.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at the bird park and saw the infamous Kiwi, New Zealand’s pride and joy. These nocturnal birds are very unusual - they have long, narrow beaks with two sets of nostrils, one at the top and one at the bottom of the beak. The set at the bottom is handy for sniffing out food, but not too convenient when it gets filled with dirt during the excavation. Also in the park were many native birds like tuis, wood pigeons, black stilts, Keas and parakeets. If you’re into feathered creatures, this is the place to go.

The next day we left Queenstown and continued on to Fiordland National Park, in the southwestern part of the South Island. This national park is one of the largest in the world and spans almost 3 million acres. The most visited of the fourteen fiords along the coastline is Milford Sound, an exquisite body of water stretching 22 km, surrounded by dramatic peaks and humungous waterfalls. Although Milford receives the highest average rainfall in the country, we lucked out and had two spectacular days of sun and blue skies.

After a little warm-up on our Fuji bikes, we set out for a ride through the Eglinton and Hollyford Valleys. I’m not much of a cyclist so I was a bit nervous for this leg of the trip, but in fact, I've never enjoyed riding a bike as much as I did that day. With almost no cars on the road it was easy to enjoy the scenery; rivers with wildflowers, snowcapped mountains and a beautiful lake. The bus gave us a 90-minute head start and then picked us up on the way to "the Divide", the lowest east-west pass in the Southern Alps. I surprised myself by making it about 30 out of the 35 km and then had a short rest on the bus before starting the hike up to Key Summit.

Trekking up to Key Summit was a bit challenging after the 2-hour bike ride, but the panoramic views of the Alps were well worth the effort. The mountain air felt great and we took our time breathing in the snowcapped peaks before heading back down to the bus. After a little more driving we made our way through the Homer Tunnel, named after Harry Homer who discovered the Homer Saddle in 1889. Riding through this 1207-meter tunnel was quite eerie (but fun), as the entire trip occured in complete darkness. Once through the tunnel we got back on the bikes for a 3,000-foot downhill freefall through the Cleddau Canyon, right into the parking lot of our home for the night, the Milford Lodge. Zooming down the hill was a total rush and a perfect end to a long day!

The next morning we were up at 6 a.m. and off to Roscoe's Kayaking for a 4-hour paddle on Milford Sound. Our guide was great and led us through the Sound while recounting several Maori legends about various peaks, waterfalls, and the traitorous sandflies. We saw fantails, cormorants, geese, and heard my favorite bellbird calls. The thrill of the morning was looking into the heart of a huge waterfall of 163 meters (3 times the height of Niagara) and feeling the immense power of the water from the safety of our kayaks.

Next we were on the road again to Te Anau. Someone in the group had enquired about flying over the Alps instead of driving, so those of us who opted to pay extra for a flight were dropped at an air strip and took a 5-passenger plane to Te Anau. The conditions were perfect and the flight was spectacular. We glided over clusters of snowcapped mountains, waterfalls, lakes and fjords, all of which seemed to go on forever. The views were dramatic and the experience was one I'll never forget. If you can manage to do this, it is well worth the cost.

Our final destination on the 2-week loop was Braemar Station (station is kiwi for ranch), a stunning 50,000-acre property with an inviting lake and gorgeous views of Mt. Cook, otherwise known as Aoraki. At 12,317 feet, Mt. Cook is the highest peak in all of Australasia and is called Aoraki (the cloud-piercer) because the peak is often hidden in a nest of clouds.

We woke up early in Manapouri and had a long bus ride ahead of us, so our guides suggested one more ride on the Fuji bikes before dropping them off in Queenstown. The route followed a quiet, country road with lots of sheep, cows, deer and birds. After 25 kilometres of pedaling I was elated to hear the familiar sounds of our beat-up bus coming from behind and knew my rescue was imminent. We picked up the rest of the bikers and drove on to Queenstown for one more lunch before heading off to the A.J. Hackett bungy-jump bridge.


Several people from my group decided to take the plunge but I wasn’t one of them. I had butterflies in my stomach watching people put all of their trust into tiny, little ropes tied around their ankles and cringed a little as their screams echoed throughout the canyon. Those who did the jump seemed transported by the experience and I felt a little regretful that I hadn't joined in.

We continued on to Braemar Station where the first order of business was a dip in the lake. The sky was unusually clear and Mt. Cook stood in front of us with an imposing, yet pacifying presence. This was heaven.

The next day we took our final hike up to Mueller Ridge. The trail seemed like a never-ending stair master with 4,200 feet of elevation, but the views of Mt. Cook and its environs were truly spectacular and well worth the effort. We took a lunch break after 90 minutes of constant uphill climbing and enjoyed a short break before continuing on towards the top.

Shortly into the second part of the climb we reached a substantial bit of snow. Stepping carefully into our guide’s footprints, we pounded our toes into the ground and slowly climbed up the ridge surrounded by blinding fields of white.

Arriving at the top was exhilarating and the panoramic views were phenomenal! We sat for about an hour just listening for the distant sound of avalanches, taking in the amazing scenery and rejoicing as our favorite "Cookie Time" cookies magically appeared from our guide’s pack. As is often the case, going down can be much harder than going up and this descent seemed like an eternity, but at the end it was great to look up and see what we had accomplished. Later that night we sat under the stars drinking wine and reminiscing about the trip during our final dinner together.

Two weeks can be a long time to travel with the same group of people, but this trip was a great combination of activities, fun, and breathtaking scenery that I would highly recommend for those who prefer not to be bothered with details and logistics. It’s also a great way to meet people if you’re cautious about traveling alone.

With a full day in Christchurch before my horseback riding trip in New Zealand's back country I decided the best way to spend my time would be swimming with dolphins in Akaroa. Unfortunately, it was 2 days before Christmas and all of the dolphin trips were booked. With the hope that someone would cancel or “miss the boat”, I took a 90-minute shuttle to Akaroa and went to directly to the harbor. I watched as people without reservations were turned away, but I somehow managed to convince the woman in charge that I HAD to swim with the dolphins and she somehow got me on a boat. With a little help I squeezed into my wetsuit and was ushered onto a small boat with about 7 other people.

The resident dolphins in these particular waters are called Hectors, named after the scientist James Hector. I prefer their Maori name, Tutumairekurai, meaning special ocean dweller. As the smallest dolphins in the world, the Hectors are just over a meter and weigh about 100 lbs. They are found solely within New Zealand waters and are endangered, numbering between 3,000 and 4,000.

The captain told us to be ready to jump into the freezing, cold water as soon as a dolphin was spotted, and not to worry about losing feeling in our extremities because the wetsuits would eventually warm us up. Luckily, I was chosen to be our group's stone-tapper. Apparently the dolphins are attracted to the tapping of stones under the water so after jumping into the ocean I tapped my heart out and in no time at all there were pairs, trios and quartets of dolphins swimming all around us.

They would swim right towards us and then veer off at the last second, gallivanting through the waves without a care in the world. I was in absolute heaven. They were graceful, agile, playful and incredibly fast. After about an hour in the water it was time to get back on the boat but I didn't want to leave - I could have stayed there for hours. It was an unforgettable experience and something everyone should do.

The next day was Christmas Eve and time to begin the horseback-riding segment of my journey. Still in the South Island, a bit northwest and inland from Christchurch, I spent the next 8 days riding through Canterbury in heavy winds, blazing sun and freezing snow. The trails took us up and down steep hillsides, through thick patches of gorse (a very prickly bush), around lakes with bushes of beautiful, white Manuka, and crossed back and forth over several rivers, the major one being the Hurunui.

We rode towards the Seward Valley, zigzagged up and down the steep banks of the Seaward River, galloped on the way to Lake Mason, enjoyed a natural hot spring next to the Hurunui River and had some wonderful moments. The scenery was really spectacular, but unfortunately I can’t whole-heartedly recommend this experience. While it is possible that things have changed since my ride in 2002, there were too many glitches along the way that could have been easily avoided if the company running the trip had been better organized. New Zealand is a beautiful place to see on horseback, and some of the riders in my group had much better experiences riding along beaches up in the north island, so that might be a better idea for real horse lovers.

Following my 8-day ride in Canterbury it was time to say good-bye to the South Island and head up north for my final 4 days in New Zealand. The destination was Rotorua, otherwise known as "Sulfur City".

I had planned to take a boat ride to White Island, the most active volcano in New Zealand. However, when I checked into my hostel in Rotorua, I was told that the boat was having mechanical difficulties and wouldn't be going out for several days to come. The following morning I called the only other company that did boat tours and they were completely booked, so I was forced into the more expensive helicopter option.

I rented a car and set out early for the 90-minute drive to Whakatane. I was nervous about driving on the opposite side of the road, but once I got the hang of things the drive really wasn’t too bad. On the way I made a stop at Hell’s Gate, a highly active thermal area full of bubbling mud, steaming craters and stinky fumes. Had it not been for the overwhelming stench I could have stayed for hours just watching the earth simmer, but I had a helicopter to catch so I went on my way.

When I got to the airport I checked in at the hangar and listened as a nervous German woman described the geography and history of the island. She assured us over and over that the helicopter was safe but there was always a small chance of mechanical failure or an eruption on the island. Despite her dramatic presentation, there was a contagious excitement in the air and we anxiously climbed onto the helicopter, most of us first-timers.

As we flew out under a storybook blue sky, our pilot pointed out Gannet bird colonies and smaller landmasses. The color of the water was a very inviting deep blue, and as we approached the volcano we saw the ominous clouds of steam from which the island got its name. The crater seemed immense, with bright, green liquid bubbling below.

Because the island is privately owned the number of visitors is strictly controlled, so for the bulk of the tour we were the only ones there. Donned with hardhats and gas masks (the fumes at Hell's Gate were child's play compared to these), we followed the pilot as he gave us a tour of the island, pointing out the different stages of volcanic activity. Just 50 meters off the coast, the island was formed by three separate volcanic cones, all of different ages, and it was easy to see the points at which everything came together. We went right up to the edge of the crater and watched in awe as the sulfur (yellow), aluminum (green) and other chemicals combined with spurting mud to form a colorful palette of thermal activity. We walked around quite a bit of the surface and then got a close up of some wild formations of steaming, crystallized sulfur that looked otherworldly.

After a fantastic day (one of my best the entire trip) I got back in my backwards automobile and navigated my way back to the Kiwi Paka Hostel in Rotorua. That afternoon I got together with a friend I’d met earlier in the trip and for the next few days we drove all over the North Island, seeing as much as we could fit in. We began by exploring the Waiotapu Thermal Reserve, an area of craters, geysers, colorful displays of all sorts of natural chemicals, and lime deposits. From there we continued on to the lower Waiotapu valley to see Bridal Veil Falls, Lake Ngakoro and more thermal activity.

The following morning we set out to experience the magic of the Waitomo caves, filled with thousands of glowworms flashing like tiny stars in a far-away solar system. There are several ways to view this spectacle, and we chose the tubing option. The highlight of the tour came when our guide instructed us to link up (the person in front holds the legs of the person behind them) and turn off our headlamps while he guided us through the cave in total silence. When we looked up there were thousands of glowworms in all kinds of shapes and configurations. The combination of light and dark, plus total silence was magical. If you find yourself anywhere close to Waitomo, do not miss this experience.

My final two days in New Zealand were spent driving around the Coramandel Peninsula. Cathedral cove was very pretty, as was the entire coastline in general. There are so many gems in this small country that even after 4 weeks I wasn’t ready to leave. It’s a special place and I think anyone would have a great time traveling there.