In 2001, as a relatively untravelled 19 year old I filed into the cinema to watch a film. A film that I was
more than a little convinced would never live up to what I hoped it to be. That film was Peter Jackson’s
“Fellowship of the Ring”, the first in his epic “Lord of the Rings” trilogy and evidence that my skills of
film quality prediction are not always perfect. Having sat spellbound throughout, I was blown away by
this first glimpse of New Zealand and how perfectly it captured the drama and serenity of Middle Earth. It
perfectly represented what had up until then existed only in my youthful imagination. I resolved to one
day undertake an outsized hobbit-esque journey of my own. Not just a rush to see the tourist highlights,
but a journey experienced at a slower pace and dedicated to the joy of unexpected adventures and
experiences found along the way.
Fast forward to a little under a year ago and I had long ago concluded that such grand adventures were the
preserve of skilled and competent adventurers. People not at all like a somewhat shy computer
programmer from middle England such as myself. I have been priviledged to undertake some wonderful
treks in the intervening years to amazing places such as Everest base camp, Mount Toubkal in Morocco
and Triglav in Slovenia, but always with the considerable safety net of an experienced guide and a neatly
packaged itinerary to fit in a short break from work. I didn’t know it at the time but my thinking on the
possibility of long adventures was about to change. One slightly bored evening I stumbled across a book
called “Grand Adventures” by the English author and adventurer Alastair Humphreys. Containing tips on
how to make a longer trip happen, an examination of why many of the barriers to adventure are not as
formidable as they may first appear and accounts from people about the adventures that they have
undertaken, I was inspired. One thing that became increasingly apparent was that in nearly every case
these adventures weren’t undertaken by people with special skills or years of training. In fact their only
common traits appeared to be a reluctance to be bound by the generally accepted limits of what can be
achieved (that is, slightly bonkers) and the optimism that generally everything will work out in the end.
Still far from 100% convinced, but nonetheless willing to indulge in daydreams I set about finding my
own adventure. Having retained a fascination with New Zealand throughout the years it was an obvious
start point. It may still have remained a flight of fancy if not for stumbling across references to Te Araroa.
Sometimes, for all the uses of logic and reasoning, an idea just feels “right” and instantly captures the
imagination. Such was the case for me. I have struggled for months to explain the “why?” of this trip
before finally realising that there is no sensible, rational explanation. There’s simply the need to finally
give life to a dream conceived a very long time ago. And it’s all Peter Jackson’s fault.