Still in Wellington I was searching the web for a job. What I found wasn't really a job but a pretty cool sounding wwoofing place at the top of the South Island – Marlborough Sounds. They were looking for a nice German girl and I thought “Hey that's me” :) Te Rawa, a tourist accommodation place, was looking for help with the garden. Situated in Pelorus Sound and only accessible by boat, I thought that sounded quite intriguing. Also it was still summer, so what could be better than being so close to the water and nature? I applied and was told I could start early February.

To clarify the situation: Wwoof means “World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms” and is an organisation that “links volunteers with organic farmers, and helps people share more sustainable ways of living.” But it is commonly used as a term to describe work in return for accommodation and food, no matter if it's on farms, in private houses or hotels. Usually you're supposed to work 4 hours a day, of course everybody handles that differently.

Living in Pelorus Sound, her mail is delivered by boat.

Naively I assumed I wouldn't have to pay the boat to get there as I was a worker. To be sure though I asked a few days before, just to find out I had to pay 40NZ$ each way. Quite a lot I thought to be a free worker and also I wondered why they didn't tell me before. Anyway I made sure I had enough money on me and set off on a Tuesday on the mailboat, which actually delivers the mail to all the places out there. It also serves as a tourist cruise through the sound to generate more money as the post service isn't all that profitable.

Dropped off in the middle of nowhere, I found Te Rawa included a couple of batches, a little shop, restaurant/bar and the German couple that own it. As well as another German wwoofer girl, Verena, who arrived a week earlier. It was pretty much paradise, you can go fishing, kayaking and soaking sun all day long and usually these places are very busy in summer. I found Kiwis like to spend their holiday either in their own wee batch somewhere in wild nature, with the family on one of the thousands of campgrounds or in a nice remote self contained place like Te Rawa. But surprisingly I had to discover that this place was struggling with decreasing guest numbers.

Glow worms just a 5 minute walk away from our batch

As a result there wasn't actually that much to do for us wwoofers. We did some weeding in the manageable size of a garden, did the dishes and cleaned the rooms when a guest was leaving. As a graphic designer I also offered them to refine their menu layout. They didn't want to spend any money, otherwise I would have liked to renew their website as well, which looks very much outdated at the moment. I believe it would have been a necessary investment for their struggling businesses, but anyway...

That's a thing I'll never understand. People don't want to spend money (on design in this case), therefore they probably think it's not an important issue. But when they get it for free, it all of a sudden is important enough to make demands. Instead of being happy that it has improved, they're complaining. They're not satisfied although it's definitely better than what they used to have. Pay me and I'm happy to make all the changes (as long as they're sensible) you want. Don't pay me, take what you get! Isn't that reasonable?

I should probably mention the fact that the overall atmosphere wasn't very good. There were hardly any customers, which made it a pretty boring and unsocial place to hang around. In addition the German owners, Erika and Walter, were miserable, stingy and didn't stop complaining, moaning, griping – any word that describes this pessimistic view and behaviour that seems to hamper the ability to enjoy and value all the good little things in life. To give you an example: One of the few guests was a single woman. One day she was laying on the jetty reading a book. Erika looked out the kitchen window commenting in a derogatorily manner “Die hat wohl nichts besseres zu tun, als den ganzen Tag zu lesen.” Which translates as: “She has about nothing better to do than to read all day.” Why? Why and how could you possibly make this into a bad situation? A kiwi would say “Good on her, she seems to really enjoy the sun and her book.” There is nothing bad about it, it's her holiday, she's in an idyllic countryside where there is not much action anyway. Give me one reason why she shouldn't read that book all day! Walter didn't talk a lot and was always out and about doing stuff around the batches anyway. So naturally our permanent contact was with Erika, who never seemed to be content. Anything we did wasn't quite good enough for her.
I won't tell you about all the awkward, mood-driven and illogical situations that we went through every day, but naturally there was a bit of a conflict. As you might know I don't just put up with all the random crap I get, so unlike Verena who just took it in, I made myself clear when I thought something is not right.

 Marlborough Sounds and its oyster farms

Fortunately, Verena and I got along quite well. One lovely sunny afternoon we set off for a hike over the hills and sheep paddocks with amazing views over Pelorus Sound and the many oyster farms. As we were just talking about how quiet it is in the New Zealand bush and that you can't really hear a lot of animals – except for in the mornings, when the birds can be deafening – we heard a noise in the bush. A grunt, suspiciously close to the path. I got a hell of a fright, not from the first noise but from the second, which was Verena screaming and almost jumping on my arms.
Although there are no native mammals in New Zealand, settlers have brought in several animals as a food and trade source or by accident. Literally all mammals (except for one bat that lived here before) were introduced... including pigs. Most of them have caused huge problems for the natural balance. The absence of natural enemies and abundance of feed makes them bread like rabbits – not only the rabbits that is. Possums, rats, wild cats, deer, goats, pigs – they eat native birds and plants, which are not adapted to having enemies (thus the most flightless bird species in the world), and struggle badly with the predators.
Enough education though, back to the story. So there was a pig in the bush. Right next to us. We froze and listened. I've seen these huge snorting kune kune pigs before and I wouldn't want to meet one in the wild. What could we do when it actually comes out and attacks us? We didn't bring anything but our cameras and since it wouldn't be a good idea to throw those, I suggested picking up rocks as weapons, whereupon Verena immediately picked one up and didn't let it go until we were in sight of the house. We continued cautiously but didn't hear the pig again.

Verena hiding the defense rock behind her back :)

The next day, as we were washing up, a couple of lads were having a drink in the bar, a rare sight, as it was usually quiet. They waved to us through the window and asked if we wanted to join them later for a beer at their batch, which was located in another bay across the sound. I was really happy about this opportunity as I couldn't wait to get out of there and get some distraction, but I knew it would be work to convince Verena to join. After I assured her it's gonna be fun, that they looked like nice guys and that you get nowhere when you're scared and say no to everything, she came along. I would have gone alone, no worries, but I actually didn't want her to miss out. So we left in a motorboat with 5 guys, thinking to have a few beers and then drive back the same night, because we had to work the next morning. As you can probably imagine, things worked out a little different. We arrived at the holiday batch and were welcomed by all in all 12 guys, who came up there from Blenheim and Christchurch for a fishing trip. It turned into a great night with of course more than just a few beers, freshly prepared seafood and us ending up sleeping on their couches.

I had a terrible morning the next day, and why was my ankle so sore? Anyway at least I knew now I would be able to leave soon. The boys had offered to take me back with them to the mainland the following day. That meant 2 days less waiting for the mail boat and saving 40 bucks.

I always say I have all the time in the world, because it feels quite long to spend a whole year here. Especially compared with some other people rushing through both islands in as little as two weeks. But I really only have time to be happy, I don't want to waste it in a miserable place with depressed, unmotivated people that have given up and create an unpleasant atmosphere for everyone. If I don't enjoy it, I'm out of there.
Isn't it wonderful to have this freedom?!

I've spent the last couple of days in Te Anau with daily excursions into the Fiordland National Park. But since my fellow traveller Ryan was so quick in writing it all down, I'm just gonna be lazy and link you to his blog :)
Click here to read about our days in this breath taking part of New Zealand.

Mitre Peak – Milford Sound

View from Gertrude Sattle

Stuart Island/Rakiura

From getting kicked out of a hostel
and hitching in a helicopter 

(Early April 2013)

I am on my way from Wanaka to Queenstown. I don't mind the drizzle. I'm excited – two weeks ago I walked into a graphic design agency to say hello. I wanted to hand in my CV for any upcoming vacancies and immediately had an interview – I have a trial job there for the next two days...

A metallic blue Pick-up picks me up. Zane, the driver, is a born and bred Stuart Islander. One of only 400 inhabitants of Rakiura (Māori name), a big island at the southern tip of New Zealand. He's going to Queenstown as well, which gives us an hour worth of chatting. We talk about life on the island, his travels, my travels, his family, my family. Zane turns out to be a pilot, who had to bring his helicopter to Wanaka for maintenance. I prick up my ears when he tells me he's flying back in a couple of days. Curiously I ask him how big that helicopter is and if he's allowed to take passengers. The deal is set, I'm flying back to Stuart Island with him. This day can not get any better!

I have 4 options to stay with people, 2 in town and 2 outside with arranged lifts to work. I pick the 5th option – hostel. For the first time I intentionally decide to stay in a hostel, usually I try to avoid it. But today is different, not only because I have a job but mainly because of a gut feeling. Zane drops me off in front of the Bungi Backpackers. The welcome is not very welcoming, I expected something else. I don't actually know what I'm expecting. Maybe because it is so unusual and special for me to go to a hostel and spend that kind of money (27NZ$/night), I imagine an incredibly warm welcome and thank you. There must be an icing on the cake, seeing that I am paying for it. Of course for them I'm just another backpacker, one among many who check in every day and out the next. 2 Hostels later – I decide to stay at the Alpine Lodge. I don't really like the reception guy either, to be honest, he appears really unfriendly and offhand, but they have free wifi and I slowly start to think it's not going to get any better. Not the best decision I made that day, as I was going to find out.

Since I have one hour left before work, I decide to use the spare time and free wifi to skype. Now here it comes, when I ask if I can have the wifi password, the guy in charge tells me I can't get it until I've checked in. He very well knows that I have to work at 12, which happens to be the earliest check-in time. I'm confused, I already gave him my credit card details, so I am obviously not going to leave. Or that's what I thought...
Me:"Can I please have it now (instead of later), I'd like to skype before I go to work"
Guy: "I told you I can't do anything for you, except store your luggage. You're not allowed to use any of the facilities." 
(As a joke) I say: "What about that table over there, am I allowed to use that?" (pointing to the place I just sat before)
Guy: "Actually no, I am cleaning and you're in the way. You should really be waiting outside" (note that it was still drizzling outside)
Me(baffled): "Well am I theoretically allowed to cancel the reservation again, I thought it's binding?"
Guy: "Yes sure, grab your bag." (taking the keys going to the luggage room)
Me: "Wait a second, I said theoretically." 
Guy: "No, I want you to leave now" 
Me: "Are you serious?"
Guy:"Yes, if you want to argue, you can leave"

...not quite comprehending what just happened, I leave saying “You know, you're not really a nice person” (holding back what I'm actually thinking “This is fucking ridiculous, you're the biggest asshole I've met”). “I think the same about you”. I haven't been this agitated and furious since I came to NZ. Suddenly I realize how mellow and happy I've been the last 5 months. Kiwis are just too nice, it wouldn't cross their mind to be offensive. I bet that this guy is not from here.

40 minutes left to find a bed for the night, shake off the bad mood and go to work. I end up back at the first place, the Bungi Backpackers, which seems to be alright after all. I was quickly brought back down to earth with my utopian hostel-hospitality-expectations. Fortunately the job is awesome and I'm really enjoying the rest of my day laying out the Queenstown Winter Festival brochure.

In the evening I'm surrounded by 19-years-old Germans. Ah right, that's why I don't go to hostels, how could I forget? I meet up with Ben for a beer and cheap chicken wings. I know him from the Wild Food Festival in Hokitika, where he and his friends were pirates and my customers. On that weekend I was widely known as “the airbrush-tattoo-girl” (I'll tell you that story another time)...

The next morning my I-want-to-stay-in-a-hostel-gut-feeling has disappeared and I decide to pack my bag and take it to work. After all I don't know yet, when Zane will call me. I hope he does call anyway, because I don't have his number. Oh no. I really hope he doesn't forget me, why didn't I take his number?! I'm getting a bad feeling but at least I know that I can stay at Giovanni's place. He's a really nice Italian traveller, that I stayed with two weeks ago via couchsurfing. Another great day at work passes, but no sign of the pilot. I slowly start loosing hope.
As I enter Giovanni's house – which by the way has an incredible view over the lake, which you have to earn by walking up a very steep street – Zane texts me that he'll leave tomorrow morning. You can imagine how thrilled I was!

View from Gio's living room

Next day I'm hitching back to Wanaka and I'm extremely excited. It doesn't seem to be that big of a deal here, everybody I'm talking to has flown in a helicopter before. New Zealand has the highest number of helicopters per capita in the world. But I have never been in one so nothing can detract from my childish joy. I immediately recognize the car that stops, it's a Volkswagen Passat (I've once worked on its assembly line in Emden, Germany). I know this door knob by heart and the driver knows Zane. Of course, we are in New Zealand and supposedly Kiwis are connected with 2 degrees of separation instead of 6 like in the rest of the world. I get dropped off at the airport, where Zane is still waiting for the technicians to give their ok. It won't come today, which is alright with me. I'm happy to wait another day, so I stay with Zane in the empty holiday house of his mate.

The helicopter is ready to go at noon and Zane tells me he can only take me to Bluff, because he has to pick up clients from there. I don't mind, I've already planned my stay in Invercargill with a couchsurfer anyway. After putting in 500NZ$ worth of fuel, we take off. It's a funny, unknown feeling to just go up straight in comparison to the “normal” run-up a plane takes. We fly over mountains with fresh snow, I recognize Lake Wanaka and Cromwell. Tiny sheep here and there, I can't stop taking pictures, it's amazing.


Incredible how lucky I am. Over the headset I ask Zane about our speed, it's strange to hear myself over the headphones. 200Kph is the answer, I can hardly believe it, it certainly doesn't feel that fast – until he drops us down closer to the ground and holy shit that makes a big difference. That's how it's always being filmed and shown on TV. I feel like taking part in a highland search and rescue show and my mission is to find a lost sheep that is hiding from the shearer. 

It takes about 1:15h to Bluff (3:30h by car) of which the last 40 minutes are solely pasture. We arrive in Bluff, what a wonderful day, it's sunny, I got a free helicopter ride, I have a place to sleep at night. Nothing to worry about, I couldn't be any happier. I start to believe that good things happen to happy people. As I get out of the heli, Zane's customers are already waiting. They welcome us with a smile. One of them turns towards me and says “Hey, who are you? Do you want to come with us to Stewart Island?” Hell yeah!

Next thing I know, I'm back in the helicopter with James, JD, John and Tom, two fathers and their sons from Hawkes Bay. They want to surprise a group of friends that has gone on a fishing/camping trip. After some fish'n'chips in Oban, the main and only settlement on Rakiura, we head off down the west coast to find their friends. They could be anywhere, no cellphone service out here, which leaves us flying from bay to bay and to our luck we find one of their boats pretty much at the very south end of the island. That way we had the chance to see a lot of the island. Their camp is deserted, they have gone on a tramping trip. But is it actually them? We're not quite sure, we nose around a little and try to find name tags to confirm that we've found the right fishing party. Yes, we have. Zane leaves us to come pick us up the next day. We try to find a spot to squeeze in the enormous tent the guys brought. Seriously, I have never seen a tent that size – I had my own 'room' in which I could have set up my own tent three times! And I'm not even joking.

We hear a boat motor and hide as the group comes back from their trip. They're confused, we're in the middle of freaking nowhere and suddenly there is a gigantic tent in their camp that wasn't there before. We jump out of the bush and the surprise is perfect. It's a group of maybe 12 people and two kids, mainly from Hawkes Bay and Queenstown.

We're sitting around the fire – drinking, smoking (*I'll address that subject some other time), joking and even dancing. The camp is extremely well thought through, they brought everything. There even is a generator that provides us with endless Ipod playlists. Or maybe there is an end, but who cares, I take out my Ukulele and play some tunes. It's a good night...

Porridge for everybody in the morning and off we go fishing. They all have their diving gear, which includes wetsuit, snorkel, knives, spear-gun and a bag to collect the found goodies. And they do find a lot. The scallops are huge, so are the paua and oysters. Plenty of fish get caught, too. It's not just fun and games though, they actually fish for food. If you're out there for two weeks, it's impossible to bring all the food. And you have to go out everyday, because there is no fridge. Which means if you don't catch anything, you're going to bed hungry. But having said that, you must be very untalented to not catch anything here. It's usually a rough area which not many people visit, so plenty of seafood for everybody who does find his way down here...

Zane drops us off in Invercargill, after showing us the west coast which has sandy beaches and more openness compared to the thick bush on the rest of the island. John and Tom are taking the bus to Dunedin, I'm planning to visit them, it's on my travel route anyway. Their fathers are taking the plane home to Hastings. And I arrive – with a couple of days delay – at Emerald's, my couchsurf host in Invercargill, but that's another story...


My Helicopter Ride auf einer größeren Karte anzeigen

Penguins and a long time waiting

After staying in Invercargill for a couple of nights, I decided to make a little trip to the Catlins since they are just around the corner. A 2h drive if you have your own car (that is completely driving through them). Hitch hiking in New Zealand I would usually expect a +10min for each section of the line...not in the Catlins. Since Easter, the lady in the tourist centre in Waikawa told me, the number of people that come in dropped from 100 to 10 a day. Same picture on the road. It took me quite a while to get out of Invercargill, but with a nice detour, where Rick the garage builder showed me the Waituna Lagoon I reached my destination.

Having arrived at the campground in Curio Bay I was told it would be far too cold for camping (way to go to loose your customers camping ground lady), therefore I stayed at a cozy, little hostel and was grateful to have a warming fire to pass the early darkness. Who the hell invented daytime saving anyway? Certainly not a traveller. Typical situation in the hostel: 7 Germans and one poor Asian couple that didn't have a chance to join the discussion as we were of course speaking German all night. I felt bad, but didn't make the effort to talk to them either. Only excuse I have: I was tired and busy strumming away on the Ukulele.

Before the German gathering, I was witness of something amazing: Penguins. Being an animal that a standard European only gets to see in zoos, penguins have a special uniqueness about them. It is pure delight to see these cute little creatures hobble on their way from the ocean over stones to the bush. I already saw penguins in Oamaru. But to be honest sitting in an observatory doc hut up on the hill looking down on the beach, more or less having to guess if that's a penguin or not, it wasn't near as astounding as in Curio Bay. Yellow-eyed penguins come ashore on the fossilised beach every evening. And every evening there's a group of paparazzi waiting for them. It's kind of weird how we humans – including myself – are that fascinated by a couple of birds just doing what they do. I wonder what the penguins are thinking when they see us... Anyway, for a second I felt like David Attenborough and it was great.

The following day I set off in a loop to see some of the scenic highlights of the region. Leaving the hostel, I heard a car approaching, which made me run to the road, because who knows when the next car would come. Got the ride with a girl who checks fire alarms. An Australian couple in a camper then brought me to the southern most point on the South Island – Slope Point. Another Australian couple took me to Waipapa Point, which is a lovely beach with a couple of seals and a lighthouse. So far so good, didn't have to wait too long for those cars to stop and the next one – a sheep truck – wasn't too bad either. Anyway I had my Ukulele to entertain me and the sun was shining. That was going to change after being dropped of in Fortrose. I got blown away, literally, it was so windy I had troubles walking and the sun was never to be seen again. In addition my next ride was a long time in coming. After 15 minutes the first car finally showed up, at the same time a dog came running towards me and jumped me with joy as if we're long lost friends. You can guess that instantly killed my chance for the car to stop. As soon as the car was gone, the long lost friend lost interest. What a timing...

“The further south you get, the friendlier the people”, that's what they say. I started thinking that's not true. I spend half my day waiting on the road, almost regretting my choice of travel, until a backpacker group (two Germans, a French and another German following on a motorbike) picked me up. After long thinking and discussions what they want to do, we had a look at the Purakaunui Falls, which were actually as picture perfect as the AA brochure claimed. I was glad to leave the group in Owaka and hit the road again. Suddenly I didn't mind the waiting anymore, I got reminded why I like travelling by myself... I'd rather “waste” my time waiting for a ride than arguing with travel mates and finding a compromise for 4 different mindsets. Good for me though; I forgot my phone in their car which I discovered 5minutes later, of course they hadn't moved an inch as they were still discussing which hostel to go to... Ended up on the campground in Kaka Point. Because it was raining and the owner (who happened to be the aunt of my last ride) pitied me with my tiny tent, I got the keys to a cabin with a heater. Not bad for $12.

Next day was much better again for hitching. Took me two rides to Invercargill with a wonderful detour via the pituresque Nugget Point. Waiting time: 2 minutes.

View The Catlins in a larger map