Me and my pink bicycle

New Zealand. Oh, how I dreamed of going and exploring this country. And how sure I was, I would never be able to afford a trip like that. But a few years of travelling, tons of experiences and a lot of confidence later, I realized it could be possible. Saving a bit of money from a previous job, all it cost me was a plane ticket and the application for a Working Holiday Visa.

And like so many travels before, I just went without really having a plan. The best things come your way, anyway, without planning. So, it’s better to just go for it. I was sure I would find work. It’s always possible to find work if you’re not too picky.

I landed in Auckland and started exploring a little bit of the North Island by bus, staying in my tent on campgrounds. I was not in too much of a rush with a job but everyday I checked some websites and applied to some offers. Horticulture interested me way more than hospitality, so that’s where I was heading. It seemed like a great salary and to be honest, I can’t stand being indoors too much anyway. Then I’m better out on the field, working with like-minded people, sweating the whole time and coming home feeling completely accomplished.

The only thing I noticed very quickly was that the public transport in New Zealand was not at all what I thought it was. The buses were expensive, they didn’t leave a lot of times per day and many towns or smaller villages where not even connected to the infrastructure. What a difference to my experiences from Central and South America. Probably that’s why everyone here bought a campervan.

There was just something very reluctant in me towards campervans. First of all, I didn’t have too much money to start with. Second of all, I never liked doing what everyone did. And I never really liked having it too comfortable. So, why not doing New Zealand on a bicycle?!

Do I like cycling? Not really.

Do I know a lot about cycling? Absolutely not.

Am I up for planning my routes with a map? No.

So, let’s do it.

After a few weeks at my first job on a Kiwi farm, I went with my first big salary to a nearby city to get a bicycle. Once I had it, I thought, I could not change my mind anymore. So, after some recommendations from the employer of which bike would be best for a trip across the whole country, I went with the pretty pink one. No repair set, no lamps, no bike pants.

And then it began.

I didn’t do the whole trip at once. And I didn’t mean to do exactly all of New Zealand but just the distance from where I bought the bike towards somewhere on the South Island. I finished my job at the Kiwi farm on the North Island and I had my next job set up in the north of the South Island on a hop farm. Which meant 950 KM by bike. Oh, and how I hated these first few days. Of course, I took on way too much to start with. Strapping on my big 60 L backpack to the rear rack with nothing but bungee ties, putting my tent and sleeping back on the front and having some dry bags full of food flopping loose against the sides, I was probably the most underprepared biker out there. And I was in pain.

My butt hurt.

My knees hurt.

My wrists hurt.

I was always sweaty and hungry and too cold and then too hot.

Doing 100 KM on my first day ever of bike packing was just not a good idea. And doing a mountain bike trail in the mountains with way too much, not properly stored luggage and a pretty pink bike that was not made for mountain bike trails was not a good idea either.

My only salvation was, like so many other times while travelling, a friendly stranger driving me to my next camp spot. And by chance, he knew a bit about bike trails and send me on to an easier and gentler road down South. From then on, I stayed on roads by his recommendation and it really saved me. I was so close to giving up after the first few days but due to his kindness and knowledge I’m happy now that I continued.

The next days were easier. Sometimes, I still hated it when it was going uphill for kilometres on end or when the wind was blowing in my face, trying hard to push my back. But other times I was loving it. I saw mountains and lakes. Rivers winding their way through deep canyons. Waterfalls, meadows full of sheep and cattle. I met some other bikers, prepared some good food and entered every brewery I could find. And once I finished the first leg of my trip and reached the South Island, I was just so proud of myself and of this thing I never thought I would actually be able to accomplish.

Before I had to start my next job, I had time to explore the north coast of the South Island for a bit with my bicycle. These few days were marked by the most amazing campsites right by the sea, waking up to astonishing sunrises. Days spent at the beach with crystal clear water, white sand and dense, deep green forests in the back. Relaxing my muscles from the time on the bike and getting ready for more things to learn.

I had about two months of a break from cycling while doing the most terrible work I have ever done on a hop farm. I’m not going into detail here because once it came to an end, I was all ready to jump on my bike again. Still without any improvement to my luggage situation, I would just stick to roads and explore the West Coast in particular. My dream destination were the mountains in and around Queenstown, once I was done with the West.

The West Coast is a beautiful, remote area in New Zealand. Lot of people miss out on it because there is no bigger city nearby and it’s marked by torrential rainfalls, strong winds and sandflies harassing you wherever you go. But again, sometimes it’s best not to listen to people’s opinion and recommendation and to just go for it anyway. And so, I had the most amazing time, lots of empty roads, only one night of rain and incredible views.

What is so amazing about the West Coast is that you can go swimming in the sea in the morning and in the afternoon, you hike through the mountains, looking up to snow covered peaks. Along the Western Highway I saw dense forest covered by mist, a rugged coastline and glaciers. I slept at the beach and got haunted by sandflies, I stayed one night in a hostel close to the glaciers and relaxed in a hot tub, I hated the switch backs on the way up and loved them on the way down. I received smiles, curiosity and encouragement. It was, in the most literal sense, the time of my life.

After days of being mind-blown, it was over. I mentally prepared to do the Haast-Pass, the most difficult part of this journey and then I would get into the valleys around Queenstown. My plan was to stop before that, right when I hit the first lake at the first village and start looking for my next (and probably last) job of my New Zealand adventure. I just really wanted to be at a magnificent place, where I could go swimming every day, hike in the mountains and just enjoy the picturesque South Island.

The first Campground I got to was right on a lake and in one of the most beautiful settings I’ve ever seen. As exhausted as I was, I just wanted to relax. I chose to stop there for the night and ride to Wanaka the next day to look around for a job. However, one night was enough for me to fall in love with this place. I got a job there and it became home for the next four months. I could camp for free in my tent wherever I wanted on the ground. So, I set it up close to the lake and went for a swim every single morning. In this time, I only used my bike to go to town and back but apart from that I worked, swam, ran, met new friends and just enjoyed a lovely summer time.

It turned out that this was also the end of my journey. I had never set the goal for myself to cross all of New Zealand by bike. My goal was to see both islands, to try out different jobs, make new experiences and manage to get around by bike and not by campervan. And I achieved that. And I was proud of myself and immensely happy of all the images and memories I kept from that time. It showed me that there is just something amazing about being unprepared.