Highlights of New Zealand

Cable Bay, South Island

I probably can’t give the beauty of Cable Bay on that sunny day the credit it deserves, it would have been striking enough to make it into this post without the added luck of stumbling across a pod of dolphins barely four metres from our kayaks. When they were first spotted by someone on our tour, I rushed to take my camera out and minutes later realised that I had missed out on simply enjoying their presence and proximity while fumbling with my zoom. Our instructors were happy to let up bob around in the water for half an hour, sheltered by the cove, before setting off again. This time when the bottleneck dolphins came to play, I fully appreciated the privilege of a family with babies circling our kayaks, sometimes diving under to come back to the surface a metre closer. It fills me with awe that such creatures mustered the confidence to approach us and that they did is a pointer to the respect and conservation of their natural habitat.

Tongariro alpine crossing, North Island

Recognised as one of the greatest day walks in the world across volcano craters and moorish landscapes, through the dripping emerald jungle and barren rock valleys, Tim took on childcare for the day so Yas and I could see the wonder for ourselves. The early morning mist and calm enveloped us as we debuted the walk, a gentle climb along a trickling river with Mount Ngauruhoe looming in the background. After about four kilometres, a steep climb raised us up above the plateau and into the South crater, a basin that may have been glacially carved and has since been carpeted with sediment from surrounding ridges. From there it was a scramble up to the Red crater and into the thick hovering clouds but we managed to see the valley across, an alien and desolate landscape of scree and rock stretching as far as we could make out. The opposite side was a slope of black volcanic sand we practically slid down, which narrowed down quite dramatically until either side was a drop to some unknown place. We didn’t realise we had reached the Emerald lakes until we stood ten metres away from their sacred turquoise waters, so dense was the fog. We walked on swiftly along a track snaking down a marsh-like landscape of ferns and spiderwebs overweighed silver droplets, then through a corridor of tussock and dainty purple flowers. I was taken aback by the suddenness of change in scenery when we crossed the bush line into the jungle. We rushed through a lahar hazard zone (a landslide of volcanic debris mixed with water) and stumbled along the path which truly seemed never-ending after six hours of uninterrupted walking. When we finally dragged ourselves to a bench by the car park where everyone was waiting for shuttles, it was as if we had all finished a long meditation and had not quite landed back in the real world.

The Coromandel, North Island

It’s a dreamy view from the backseat when driving up the west coast of the Coromandel, I’m told very hobbity but I wouldn’t know, the most vibrant shades of green and blue come together in a blend of typical English countryside, tropical abundance of vegetation and alpine waters. I was enchanted by our secluded chalet, which offered the perfect mood to lose myself in The Poisonwood Bible (which I am greatly enjoying). The farmers whose land this was suggested we go on a horse trek, taking us galloping across some paddocks and a mud beach. That evening we made a fire outside and sat under a star-lit sky which switched on and off with drifting clouds. Tim introduced us to chocolate-stuffed caramelised bananas baked over the dying flames and it was a memorable (almost) ending to the holiday.

Sascha xx