Seven years ago, Rob and I made the decision to relocate to New Zealand.  This was mostly because of seeing what an amazing country it was from our epic New Zealand backpacking trip, but the move meant we could also achieve some personal goals.  The move didn’t come without its downsides or risks – we moved away from family, we were two new drops in the Auckland population ocean, and didn’t know anyone, I was moving into a new job following a two-year hiatus, and Rob took a role (and a huge one at that) in making NZ our home.  Now, after a good few years, job roles (same company I might add), houses and towns later, I find myself feeling inspired on a flight to Hong Kong, with 11 hours of thinking time stretching ahead of me (with a few movies thrown in) to put at least some of my reflections from The Land of the Long White Cloud down on paper.

Upon arrival, our priority was getting back into the routine of work.  After backpacking through SOUTH EAST ASIA, followed by our voyage across the EPIC PACIFIC, settling into a regular nine-to-five was an adjustment to say the least.  I was now accountable to a team of people, and most of my time was no longer my own, and work travel and the associated long hours became the norm.  Not to mention, after spending every day for two years together with my significant other, Rob and I needed to get used to being apart, which was not easy!  Despite some initial teething problems, I found my groove again, and after Rob helped us settle into our new apartment, after three months (and three moves, more on that later), he found his niche based on his yachting experience.  Workwise, things have gone well, and have moved on from a clinical role to a business development role, and grew into management, now overseeing a team of people myself.  My professional development has come in leaps and bounds, and I have a few significant mentors to thank for that!

Enough about work though… nomads that we are, we are never satisfied being in one place for too long.  The years in NZ have seen us move ten (yes, ten!) times.  Granted, at least half of those moves were in the Auckland CBD, so do they count?  The first three months saw us migrate from the YHA (not ideal for an adult starting a new job and needing her beauty sleep), to an apartment hotel for a month, to a furnished loft apartment, to another apartment which became our home for two years.  With our own furniture, and my own bed (very important to me!), we morphed into townies, enjoying life in the CBD, trying out new places to eat (the Asian food court was the clear winner), running new routes (Auckland domain and the waterfront being our favourite routes), hopping on our bikes to explore further afield, or jumping on a bus and seeing different parts of the wider metro area. 

As fate would have it, being renters meant there was a chance the owner would want to take back the property, which she did, but luckily Rob found us another apartment in the same building which we took for six months.  Only six months you say?  Well, flashback to a very stressful period to when I was offered a secondment to Boston, being in limbo as to not really knowing when our work visas were going to be approved, and the landlord was not willing to give us an open tenancy.  Of course, Murphy’s Law meant that with a fixed tenancy agreement that came up for expiry, no work visa yet in sight, another move was needed, and we relocated to an Airbnb in the same initial apartment hotel for a month.  Fast forward thirty days, still in limbo, another Airbnb welcomed us for another month.  If I ever wonder when I started to go grey, I think this was when.  Multiple rounds of paperwork, and passport photos later, the immigration lawyer in plain words basically told us to not proceed with the visa application, as we risk a rejection due to the US’s newly implemented migration policies (thank you Mr. Trump).  It was at that point we cut our losses, packed up our remaining stuff into our backpacks and flew to Kuala Lumpur just “to get away” for a bit.  The timing worked well though, as we were close to flying back to South Africa for my brother’s wedding, and our first time back to see family in over two years.  We both love Malaysia and spending some time there after the stress and uncertainty of the preceding five months, was a very good move.

Wedding done (I was an unexpectedly blubbering proud “sussie” or sister for those English-speaking readers), quality time with family, a short break in Borneo, we returned to Auckland, into another Airbnb until we decided where we wanted to live.  Ultimately, we found that three years in the CBD was enough, and it was time to move to the ‘burbs.  But of course, not doing things by halves, we decided to move 50km north, out of the city, to a peninsula called Whangaparaoa, and found a newly constructed apartment building in the beachy suburb of Manly.  Five minutes down a set of stairs, we were on the beach of a protected bay, and for a while, that’s where we found peace.  Morning runs, evening strolls on the beach (when daylight savings permitted), a bustling café with the best banana choc chip muffins just downstairs, we were happy there.  I had been working from home for two years at this stage, so it didn’t matter where I was, as long as I had internet and a desk.  Manly was a great location as it was a wee (Kiwi-isms have clearly rubbed off on me) ten-minute drive to a branch of Rob’s employer, the staff of which welcomed him with open arms (who wouldn’t?!).  At this stage, we were NZ permanent residents and were now gunning for citizenship and knew we had to wait another year to apply.  A beach walk conversation morphed into a plan to move south, not to south Auckland (which should not be anyone’s first choice), but South Island.  An April Fool’s joke later to the family about moving overseas again (which was not found funny), a short Airbnb stay gave us a chance to find a more permanent home in Nelson.  To those who don’t know Nelson, it’s a small town at the top of the South Island, and boasts the most sunshine hours in NZ, with a beach and various walking trails just a hop, skip and a jump away.  A short six month stay in one house, we’ve found ourselves a cozy two-bedroomed house, a short walk from the centre of town and the picturesque Maitai River which Mother Nature decided was not full enough a few months ago, with the river deciding to burst its banks during the Nelson floods.  So we’re back in the ‘burbs, albeit now in a much quieter town, but the feet are beginning to itch yet again!

Living in a country that pretty much is a bunch of volcanos, extinct or otherwise, pretty much means Mother Nature likes to throw in a bit of excitement into what is otherwise a relatively quiet and unassuming existence.  We experienced our first earthquake while living in Auckland, waking up in the middle of the night with rattling dresser drawers and a bed that was moving for all the wrong reasons.  Not anticipating earthquakes, we weren’t on or near any major fault line, we couldn’t understand it and only realized after hearing the news report that we had experienced the shuddering of the earth settling into a new position.  Moving to Nelson, we’ve had our fair share of moderate shakes, nothing serious, but enough to sit up and take notice and think to oneself, is that it, or is there another one coming?  And do we need to prepare an earthquake pack?  Of course, earthquakes are associated with tsunamis, and living in Manly along the coast, we were in a tsunami evacuation zone.  Cue a deep-sea earthquake and subsequent tsunami threat, to the extent that Rob and his crew at work needed to evacuate the marina where they worked, and head to high ground, all while the tsunami siren continued to wail.  No tsunami was forthcoming (I’m not complaining) but the resulting coastal surge did make the evening news.  It is NZ after all, a potato the size of a human baby makes the news in these parts.  We’ve been hit by a couple of cyclones too, landing in one after coming home from a South African trip, and a second storm causing me to be stranded in Tauranga for a night with flights being cancelled when Cyclone Cook made landfall over the east coast.  And of course, our Facebook followers will have seen the post of the Maitai river breaking its banks in Nelson, with the district declaring a state of emergency from the floods and landslides.  Luckily, we were spared and stayed dry, but our neighbours one street over weren’t so lucky.  And of course, who could ever forget the devastation that was the White Island eruption.

Fortunately, our nature experiences have been mostly uneventful!  I mentioned earlier that we like to get out and about, but probably don’t do it as much as we want to.  With Rob working some weekends, it’s not often we can explore together.  But when we do, it’s about getting active and outdoors.  We bought mountain bikes in Auckland, which have taken us 50km around the wine island of Waiheke where no wine was involved, we cycled over the ranges from Auckland to the black beach of Piha and back (my legs did not thank me for at least two days after that mountain stage of the Tour de Auckland).  There were a couple of trips to the island reserve of Rangitoto too for some tramping up and around the summit of a dormant volcano, either jumping on the ferry to get there, or in one case, kayaking over from Mission Bay, a suburb located along the Auckland waterfront.  Our time in Manly also saw us buy Stand Up Paddleboards (SUPs to the uninitiated) so we paddled the Orewa and Puhoi estuaries a few times, and even tried our hand at surfing the baby waves at Orewa beach. 

Our time in the south has taken us tramping in the Abel Tasman and Nelson Lakes National Parks, cycling 65km from our home in Nelson around Rabbit Island and back, and more recently, saw us tackling the 40-odd km Coppermine Trail, an up and down mountain bike route that starts less than 3km from our backdoor.  The SUPs have also made it to Rabbit Island beach and to Tahunanui beach for a few outings, although rash vests are in order just in case we lose our balance – the NZ waters down south aren’t exactly known for their tropical temperatures.  While in Auckland, I joined a group fitness set-up that exercised in a park near the apartment, and it was through this group that Rob and I decided to tackle the Tough Mudder event, a 20km obstacle course.  What a great experience!  I had always loathed anything to do with obstacle courses, associating them with the “go team” mentality of corporate (and school) teambuilding activities, which is not my scene at all (yes, I’m an individual!).  But after significantly improving my strength and fitness, it was a challenge I was up for, and I loved every minute… well maybe not the electric shocks at the end… but probably loved the hot shower and pizza afterwards more so.  We ended up participating in two Tough Mudder events, but the first one is the most memorable for two reasons.  Firstly I didn’t think I’d be able to do it, but I have pictures of the post-event bruises to show that I could and in fact did, but also because we had the opportunity to run with Richie McCaw, one of the greatest All Blacks of all time (not that I’m saying I support the All Blacks), and I literally have the T-shirt to support the claim of “been there, done that”!  I thought I was done, but as I was re-reading what I’d written, it dawned on me that I hadn’t included any of our running events.  Rob and I completed a few organized running races too, achieving a goal of running across the Auckland Harbour Bridge in the Auckland Half Marathon but our greatest achievement (well, at least for me) was finishing the Queenstown Marathon.  It was the first time we had tackled the full marathon distance and running (and a lot of walking) the most scenic marathon in NZ is definitely one for the memory book.

Our weekend excursions haven’t been incident free though I’m afraid.  A casual bike ride through a Devonport park and an encounter with a gym mommy so engrossed with her phone and not controlling her dog resulted in Rob somersaulting over his handlebars and breaking his collar bone into three pieces.  Two ambulance rides and 36 hours later, the collarbone was surgically repaired, and Rob was in a sling for six weeks.  This happened two weeks before we flew to South Africa (the first time since relocating) so thank goodness for strong pain meds as Rob gritted his way through four long haul flights there and back.  The medical drama doesn’t end there I’m afraid… a Sunday surf at Orewa beach ultimately ended up at A&E again, this time due to a dislocated shoulder (Rob again, the same shoulder that had the fractured collarbone, the same shoulder that had been dislocated twice previously).  Through the miracle that is happy gas, and the soothing encouragement of the nurse practitioner, Rob managed to pop the shoulder back in place, and off we toddled home, arm in sling for another six weeks.  The surfing stopped, and we stuck to meditative paddling on calm, flat waters from there on out.    

All adventures weren’t necessarily local.  We took the opportunity to get out of town when schedules permitted.  Although we had travelled the country extensively when we were here in 2015, there were still parts of both islands where we hadn’t been before, so a few road trips were in order.  While on the North Island, we ventured through the caves of Waitomo, going “black water” rafting and gazing up at glowworms on the tunnel roof above us while floating down a freezing underground river.  It was there that we tasted probably one of the best steak-and-ale pies ever.  There were a couple of trips to Rotorua, during which we took full advantage of the sulphur springs at the QE Health Centre.  With my birthday falling in summer and close to a long weekend, we take advantage of the good weather, and go camping.  One of said camping trips was to Mt Ruapehu (an active volcano I think, I should know this but am too lazy right now to look it up), where we took on the Tongariro Crossing, challenging gale force winds as we crossed the saddle, bringing back the hell of pre-summit day on Kilimanjaro.  But another bucket list item ticked off, and we were both very happy to have done it as we had heard such great things about doing that walk. 

Another year we were in Paihia, unexpectedly coinciding with the Rhythm and Bays (?) music festival, with Shaggy serenading us for free, as the campsite was right next door to the festival grounds.  Another trip to Taranaki saw us climbing parts of Mt Egmont (yep, another volcano).  Down south, other roadies took us to Golden Bay, where we took an eco-tour along Farewell Spit, a beautiful and mostly untouched stretch of sand stretching deep into the Cook Straits.  We’ve travelled down to the hot springs of Maruia for a spa getaway and enjoyed the mountain resort area of Hanmer Springs, closer to Christchurch.  Our December break one year was spent along the West Coast of the South Island, travelling to Westport, Hokitika and across the Southern Alps.  Memorable for firstly being a very dramatic coastline, but also because of the weather.  We stayed in a place called Cape Foulwind for a few nights where the name says it all.  It was also snowing (in December) when we crossed Arthur’s Pass on our round trip back home.  If there is one thing I will not miss about NZ, it’s the weather.  We also made a conscious effort to travel down to Tekapo again.  Although having been there before, we wanted to take advantage of being closer to one of the Dark Sky Reserves and do some stargazing.  Ironically, two of the three nights we had booked were fully overcast, so our goal of being able to lie in bed and cast our eyes to the heavens (we booked a room with a glass roof specifically for this purpose!) wasn’t achieved.  However, night number three was spectacular, with shooting star after shooting star.  It took me back to the days of clear nights in the Pacific, in the middle of the ocean, no other lights around and just looking up (too often we only look down!).

We didn’t only restrict our trips to NZ though.  This of course being pre-Covid meant pretty much unrestricted travel.  If you’ve read previous posts, you’ll know that two of those trips were tackling the Inca trail and getting a taste for what a great Aussie roading might feel like respectively.  There were two trips to South Africa, one as I mentioned where we included a trip to Borneo on the return leg (as we had to travel via Singapore anyway).  Specifically, we travelled to Kota Kinabalu, in the Malaysian province of Sabah, stayed in a fancy hotel and spent our time recovering from a stressful few months caused by the US work visa saga.  We explored the town, visiting some of Rob’s old haunts from his first backpacking trip sans me (granted, this was before he knew I existed so he could be forgiven for not taking me along), and of course, enjoyed the deliciousness that is traditional Malaysian food.  Nasi lemak, roti with dhal, kopi… the mouth positively waters.  That’s the reason the Asian food court in Auckland was our all-time favourite eatery – it was the closest we got to a nasi lemak outside of Malaysia.  A highlight was venturing into the jungles of Borneo and spotting proboscis monkeys, with their distinctive oddly shaped noses, native to the area.  Waiting for the transfer back to the hotel, the driver decided to show me a picture of a massive snake that had been removed from the toilet stall that I just vacated reminding me that monkeys weren’t the only creatures we could see in the jungle.  Work also gave me a few opportunities to venture abroad, mostly to the US, but these were FIFO (fly in, fly out) visits and I didn’t get a chance to explore.  However, the taxi rides from the airport in Boston to the hotel in the Financial District, and various meeting venues, at least gave me a chance to see some of the historical city (and of course pick up the requisite fridge magnet).  Boston was graced with my presence twice, with me also getting the chance to see a bit of San Francisco for a conference.  Again, work related, but having a company credit card, and colleagues native to the city meant after work drinks and dinners in some prime locations, and even the experience of having a drink in a traditional speakeasy.  I was also fortunate enough to be offered the chance to travel to Vienna, again for a conference, although this one did not go well, so my Viennese experience is not positive for various reasons.  I did spend my last day though seeing the key sites using the Hop On, Hop Off tourist bus, which may be a form of tourist speed dating, but I still maintain its probably one of the best ways to see a new place during a time restricted work trip.  There were also some trips across the ditch to Sydney, Brisbane and Melbourne, also only for a few days.  The question is, do they really count as another country when most of the world still thinks NZ is another one of Australia’s states?!  Of course, everything came to a grinding halt when a certain virus decided to travel the world instead.  But we enjoyed our time at home, playing in our own backyard when in lockdown.

So here I find myself after the world has opened again, on another work trip, this time my destination being Bangkok (and 30-degree temperatures, hooray!) reminiscing about an amazing time in NZ.  An unexpected 30-hour delay in Hong Kong on my return journey due to cancelled flights gave me an opportunity to finalize this post, along with the great experience of spending a night on an airport terminal floor (if you haven’t done that at least once, you’ve never experienced life!).  Our experience living in NZ for the last six-plus years meant we saw more of the country, met some wonderful people, and stayed in great and not-so-great locations.  We took advantage of what the country could offer us in more ways than one, and I can proudly say we will shortly be achieving what we hoped to achieve.  My final thought before I wrap up?  The seven-year itch is real… what will the next seven years bring us?