Here I sit at a café on Takapuna Beach, finishing up a coffee that I could actually make myself now if I wanted to. I can even bartend these days too, so what’s missing is really just an actual bar in front of me. Every so often I look over at my dream motorcycle and instantly flash back to everything I’ve seen on two wheels during my time here. What hits me the most is realizing that I did all of this on two normal, healthy feet again, especially considering I arrived in New Zealand with a cane and barely able to walk. Seven whole months in New Zealand, and only a few more to go.
 |
 |
 |
A Country That Gives You More Than You Can Finish
New Zealand may look small on a map, but once you begin moving through it, you quickly realize just how much there is to do, see, and absorb. Even a few years wouldn’t feel like enough, especially once you factor in how many places lie off the beaten path. And even the known places can feel out of the way, with unsealed roads and long stretches that remind you just how raw and spread out this country really is. I’ll admit, some of that got frustrating on my cruiser. There were places I had to let go of simply because the reality is, you cannot do it all.
And yet, that is not what stays with me most. What stays with me is the fact that I did it. I really fucking did it. For all the things I could not see, I still managed to carve out a chapter here that was bigger than I had imagined.
 |
 |
Doing It My Own Way: Motorcycle
Coming to New Zealand had been a dream for a long time, but even more than that, I wanted to experience it in my own way. Not through a typical route, not boxed into buses and standard stopovers, but on a motorcycle. That was the vision. That was the way I wanted to meet this country.
Doing it like that came with its downsides. It got lonely. There’s no hiding that. I couchsurfed when I could, and when that did not work, I did my best to socialize and connect with people along the way. But riding solo is different. You do not get to throw on music in a car with someone else and talk shit while the road rolls by. You are in your own space, your own head, and completely exposed to the elements. And in New Zealand, the weather does not play games. When it rains, it really spits like hell.
The Hardest Parts of the Road
Some of the hardest things I had to deal with on the bike were loneliness and bad weather. Those were probably the two biggest tests. There were moments of taking cover in tiny shelters, moments of sleeping in a wet tent, and plenty of days where I had to learn how to handle whatever the road and sky decided to throw at me.
But even with all of that, the good far outweighed the bad. Riding alone also meant seeing New Zealand in a way that felt wide open and deeply personal. The panoramic views from a motorcycle are something else entirely. No GoPro, no adventure cam, none of it can really capture what it feels like to be out there in it.
This country has an abstract beauty to it, almost dreamlike at times. One moment you are passing farms in a valley backed by mountains, and not long after you are riding alongside bright blue sea. From Golden Bay to the Southern Alps, from the blue waters of Pukaki to the emerald bays of East Cape and Northland, the shifts in landscape are unreal.
 |
 |
What the Road Gave Me
Getting rained on along the so-called Wet Coast of the South Island was intense, but the calm before and after those storms felt almost surreal. Orange sunsets over Wanaka while staring at a storm sitting over the mountains. Riding through Haast Pass with rogue clouds hanging low just yards away from me and my bike. Moving alongside glaciers, lakes, and nature preserves before arriving at Bruce Bay.. Those are the kinds of moments that stay with you.
New Zealand can be intimidating when it comes to the road, especially when you know how quickly the weather can turn. But again and again, I found myself doing the same thing: taking my chances, preparing for the worst, and still anticipating the best. That mindset carried me through so much of this chapter.
And what a chapter it has been. I surfed the dunes at Te Paki, watched the sunset at Cape Reinga, bay hopped through Northland and the East Cape, hiked Lord of the Rings landscapes from Tongariro to Roys Peak, walked the steepest street in Dunedin, enjoyed wine in Blenheim, learned to bartend and make coffee in Picton, and soaked in the Marlborough Sounds on my days off.
I had a motorcycle partner in Akaroa while catching sunset over Banks Peninsula, got lost in the Canterbury Plains, rode the eerie Forgotten Highway, lane split through Auckland traffic, admired Māori wood carvings, explored both Cathedral Cove and Cathedral Cave, wandered through old mining settlements in Karangahake Gorge, got help from locals in Waipukerau when my battery died, had one of the best dinner buffets of my life in Queenstown, stepped back in time in Napier’s Art Deco streets, felt small in Milford Sound, gained perspective in earthquake-marked places like Kaikōura and Christchurch, and made it all the way to the end of the road in Bluff.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Near the End, But Not Really
That list is already a mouthful, and it still does not say everything. At the moment, I’m in Auckland living a quieter life, house-sitting, taking care of plants and cats, cleaning up here and there, and working in a local bar to keep some kind of social life while saving up for whatever comes next. The journey feels like it is almost over, but not really. It feels more like one chapter is closing while another quietly waits in the distance.
When I sit back and reflect on everything I’ve done here, the loudest thought is still the simplest one: I did it. I really did it. And whatever comes next, I’ll do that too.
Taking it all in with Mount Taranaki
