Kiwis and kauris and glowworms, oh my!

by Gina Roitman (United States of America)

I didn't expect to find New Zealand

“I have good news and bad news,” Nicole reports upon re-entry to our leaking tent. Given that we’re currently situated in soggy sleeping bags, toes numb and teeth chattering with rain quickly pooling around us, bad news is unwelcome, yet not surprising. I lift my head in her direction to signal that she has my attention. She takes a deep breath, and admits hurriedly: “I locked the keys in the car.” I laugh. I appreciate Nicole’s joke, a nice lift for our (literally) dampened spirits. Then I realize, she is, in fact, quite serious. “The good news is that there’s a house up the road, so I can check if anyone’s around to help.” The afternoon prior, we (Nicole, Leah, and I) piled into a beat up Toyota that a friend got dirt-cheap expressly for the purpose of road trips like the one we’re about to take. We’re spending a semester on exchange in Auckland, and whenever possible we cruise up and down the coast; this weekend we’re camping in Northland. “Are you sure your California license is valid here?” we ask Nicole. She assures us that yes, it is, and that driving on the opposite side of the road than we’re used to won’t be a problem. The Toyota, with some sense of determination, leads us to the outskirts of Auckland until it meanders freely on the roads leading north. After brief stops at SheepWorld (one of those funky roadside attractions that begs you to check it out, just for curiosity’s sake) and the coast, we arrive in Kaihu, and lazily pitch our tent as the sun sets. We enjoy a dinner of peanut butter and banana sandwiches and Tim-tams and suit up for a night walk. New Zealand boasts no native predators, so we confidently set out. A paneled wood path makes for a mindless trek, and we stop in awe every few minutes to tip our heads as far back as they’ll go and gaze towards space, the tops of the kauri trees seemingly worlds away. Rain begins to gently fall, but the canopy acts as a giant umbrella. After some time, we notice something- little specks of color dotting the void ahead. Bioluminescent worms light our path, their bodies aqua squiggles. I am particularly pleased to be seeing the glowworms “in the wild,” as I had turned down a trip to the commercialized Waitomo caves to see them a few weeks prior. We carry on wordlessly until a rustle nearby gives us pause. Our headlamps dart around until Leah’s lands on the source of noise- a kiwi! I forget all that I’ve learned about proper wildlife watching etiquette and squeal with delight, startling the kiwi, who then abruptly halts. I clumsily attempt to change my lamp’s setting to red light (undetectable by kiwi birds, and thus not a disturbance for them), but by the time I manage, the feathered blob has wandered away. We are beaming as we make our way back to the tent- glowworms and a kiwi in the wild against the backdrop of the legendary kauri trees is the stuff of dreams. Buzzing with energy, we three snuggle into our two-person tent, and wait for sleep. An hour after her dire announcement, Nicole returns. Her demeanor is now that of a child at the dentist, reporting that they have, in fact, been flossing regularly, and she is flanked by four husky men with beards obscuring their faces, metal tools and contraptions in hand. The rain has stopped, and we gather around the car as the sun begins to peek through the overstory. The keys are visible on the front seat, taunting us. The men work swiftly, and within minutes we hear a pop and the front door is open, keys accessible. I relax, settling into the knowledge that all is well. We thank our bearded saviors and part ways. On the drive back to Auckland, we stop to pay our respects to Tāne Mahuta (the Lord of the Forest), the largest kauri tree known to stand today. I embrace the colossal tree, uttering my thanks to its kind for giving me reason and the reminder to proceed always with a chin turned skyward.