KIA ORA! (Maori for “welcome”)
In an attempt to maintain all modesty, I’ve travelled to a lot of amazing places. Lived amongst different cultures and participated in the passions that I dearly enjoy in some of the most diverse and admired locations on this globe. Having spent well over a month in the Indian Sub-Continent and equal time in East Africa, I was sure that New Zealand would be fun, exciting, and probably easy on the eyes. I was also sure that I would be mildly impressed with the culture and people of this Westernized country, easing my way back into modern utilities, the hustle and bustle of everyday Westernized life, and a multitude of other similarities that are found back in the states. What I failed to fathom however, was that I would be so taken back by a single country and it’s people en totale. I tried hard in the initial weeks not to give in to New Zealand. Failing miserably, I left after two months in country smiling, having met some of the greatest most considerate people, and literally having the one of the best times of my life. New Zealand is fucking awesome, in every faucet. Access, culture, beauty, people, food, the whole damn country is outer-worldly and simply fantastic. I strongly feel it would be a true detriment to ones existence if they could not have their own Kiwi experience.
I arrived in Auckland, New Zealand on the 28th of December only to later catch a flight directly to Christchurch on the South Island. Here is where my experience with Kiwi hospitality will begin. While in Nepal, I met a Kiwi girl named Emi Earle. After a few days of paddling and finding out my plans to visit her home country, she graciously informed me that I’d be welcome to use her car during my tenure in NZ while she was away working in Europe for the ski season. Delighted, I used the car during my experience naming it “Mangles”, as I was struck by a German tourist while visiting Milford Sound in Fjordland National Park. Eventually, all was sorted with the white Mitsubishi Cyclone and Emi, to my knowledge probably came out ahead. Regardless, her generosity was amazing and illustrated the wonderful kindness of the Kiwi spirit that I would experience throughout my trip.
Knowing that I’d return to such an amazing place again very soon in my lifetime, I opted to devote my time entirely to whitewater kayaking. Having done extensive research prior to visiting, I drove straight to the most difficult, beautiful, and core of New Zealand creeking (extreme kayaking), the West Coast of the South Island. Here one is blessed to find arguably the most beautiful and scenic rivers in the world, with a varying range of whitewater difficulty and most importantly, helicopter access. Yes, we took numerous helicopters rides into the Southern Alps to arrive at certain rivers. Amazing!
Up and down the coast I went, kayaking with newly met friends both foreign and domestic whilst having the time of my life, living out of my borrowed car, and reaping in the bountiful goods of the country. I kayaked on seventeen different rivers, twenty five different sections, broke one paddle, took nine separate helicopter flights, swam (exited my kayak due to emergency) twice, and scored one first descent.
Not only were the physical aspects of New Zealand kayaking simply brilliant but this trip evolved into the place I really LEARNED how to kayak. With such committing and challenging rivers, I was forced into hard technical boating from the get go, thankfully it was who I kayaked with that both made the experience and aided my continual learning of the sport. I charged technical rapids harder than ever before, further learning how to properly ensure the safety of myself and others. I learned how to walk away from a rapid sucking up my pride because either myself or others in the group weren’t feeling up to it.
I was in such admiration of those I was paddling with, both how they were seemingly afraid of nothing, letting their exquisite technique carrying them through. They were amazing boaters and even better people off the water, twas they, that made the experience. It was hands down the most fun I’ve ever had kayaking. We were dirtbags, living for our passion, sleeping under the stars, and enjoying life in one of the best places on earth.
This paragraph is simply an ode to Kiwi cuisine. Granted, I was dirt bagging my way through the ventures eating mostly freeze dried food, leftovers, and relying on a solid substanience of local beer for most nourishment. However, when “treating” myself, I feasted on the equisitly cheap and available meat pie and fish/chip locales. Both probably horrible for the human body in terms of fat and caloric intake is concerned, these wonderful delicacies were cheap, flavorful and seemingly more intoxicating that any American “fast-food” fare. Think locally owned McDonald’s but without the bullshit and toxins of the corporate undertone. Twas as Kiwi’s coin, “WICKED!”
As water levels began to diminish and friends either headed home or back to their respective jobs, I took my final weeks in country to do some exploring other than whitewater kayaking. I sold off most of my gear and spent a few days in the national parks of the South Island where I was greeted again and in more awe of the Southern Alps as they served as the island’s spine for outdoor beauty. While in Mt. Cook/Anoraki the mountains reminded me of my lust for climbing and learning from the hills, all under the splendid view of the Mueller hut high atop an alpine ridge within the park. In Abel Tasman National Park, the beautiful coastline and jungle backdrop illustrated another reason to return fairly quickly.
New Zealand was a place I’ll never forget. A place is nothing however without it’s people, and combining two wonderful ingredients, both people and physical beauty, provided me with the ultimate Kiwi experience one could ever hope for. All photos from my trip and videos can be viewed in the respective pages on this website.
