The Sunday Times May 1, 2022 5Travel New Zealand
AhiparaAucklandNelson Lakes
National Park
CanterburyWanakaTararua
Mount Rintoul Range
Stag SaddleBay Of IslandsTongariro National Park
Whanganui RiverQueen Charlotte
South Island SoundNorth Island200 milesCape ReingaLongwoodBluff OtagoMATTHEW MICAH WRIGHT,ACTIONADVENTURE/GETTY IMAGES; IMAGE PROFESSIONALS/ALAMY; CLAIRE NELSONLONG WALK TO
New Zealand finally reopens today — and an epic hike that takes in the full
length of the country is a great way to get reacquainted, says Claire Nelson
FREEDOM
Claire during her hike and, above, the Bay of IslandsI
’ve been walking down the same
rugged stretch of coast for three
days before I meet another human
being. A ute stacked with fishing
rods pulls up, and through a
window appears a friendly face, gesturing
towards a chilly bin (cool box) in the back.
“Hungry? Want some kai?”
This moment sums up the best bits
of walking the length of New Zealand:
breathtaking remoteness and — somehow
at the same time — the goodness of people.
I’d always looked upon my home country
as a small place where not much happens,
an impression I held long after I’d moved
to the UK 17 years ago. But the world has
changed dramatically recently and the
idea of somewhere small, where not
much happens, has started to sound quite
appealing. Since the pandemic began,
New Zealand had closed its borders to all
but nationals, while in London my
freelance work was in a slump and my
landlord had panic-sold the flat. All signs
pointed to home, and I realised it was time
I changed my perspective on the place.
And, as is the way when I’ve a lot to think
about, I decided a nice long walk would
help. I knew just the one.
Te Araroa — “the long pathway” in
Maori — is a 1,850-mile trail from one end
of New Zealand to the other. Known in
tramping circles as TA, it connects Cape
Reinga, at the very tip of the North Island,
to Bluff at the very end of the South, aCla Continued on page 6→— were more
cautious, yes, but
far from quashed.
My foot
recovered, I
continued to lava
country, Tongariro
National Park, a Mars-
like desertscape of red rock
and blue-green crater lakes, all watched
over by three active volcanoes: Tongariro;
Ngauruhoe (that’s Mount Doom to The
Lord of the Rings fans); and Ruapehu.
When Te Araroa joins the Timber Trail,
a popular mountain biking track, I broke
with convention and got on a bike,
spending two days juddering at speed
down a disused forestry railway line
and over swing bridges strung high
across gullies.
At Whanganui I swapped the bike for
a kayak, although this method is legit —
the mighty Whanganui River is the only
section of Te Araroa that can’t be tackled
on foot. I joined a foursome of fellow
TAers in open canoes, and for three days
we paddled through relentless rain, the
air rich with the smell of damp ferns while
rain-swelled waterfalls burst forth from
the sides of the gorge.
My intentions were to do this walk solo,55), I had it largely to myself, apart
from a few seals and wild horses.
Once I hit the surf town of Ahipara
the trail turned inland, heading
west across subtropical Northland,
which, despite being known as the
“Winterless North”, delivered some
of the grottiest weather on the trail. I
slopped my way through rain-drenched
farms and forestry tracks and emerged
into the sunny Bay of Islands. When I
injured my foot a local cattle farmer
gave me a ride and I convalesced at a
riverside eco camp. “Here y’go, this’ll
get your strength up,” said the host,
delivering me a mullet he’d caught and
smoked that morning.
Injuries or no, there were always going
to be diversions: snap lockdowns, which
rendered whole regions of the North
Island inaccessible, made this an unusual
year to do Te Araroa. Some TA walkers
decided to start at Bluff and head
northbound, while others, me included,
opted to walk the North Island in sections
before completing the South Island
from the top down. Apart from these
adjustments, life on the trail felt as far
away from the pandemic as one could get.
Locals still picked up hitching hikers, and
the “trail angels” — a community of kind
folks who actively offer assistance to TAersLife on the
trail felt as far
away from the
pandemic as
one could getCanoeing on
the Whanganui
River; top,
Roys Peak Track
in Wanaka,
towards the
end of the trailjourney of about five months. It crosses
terrain that varies from urban centres to
mountain ranges, and along the way one
camps, stays in hostels, or nabs a bunk
in the many basic Department of
Conservation (DOC) huts. This was how
I’d get to know my country. To get really
(and quite literally) into the weeds of it.
In October, when I set off down Ninety
Mile Beach (a misnomer: it’s more like