Te Araroa Trail | 3,000 km on Foot Across New Zealand
From the lighthouse at Cape Reinga, the northernmost tip of New Zealand, to Bluff, the southernmost town on the South Island — 3,000 kilometres, 120 days, a 15-kilogram pack on my back, walking the entire length of New Zealand on my own two feet.
Te Araroa is Māori for “the long pathway.” These 45 journal entries are about what happened on that path: blisters, mud, volcanoes, the Southern Lights, the sound of a kiwi bird strolling past my tent at night, and everything the people I met along the way taught me that I never knew I needed to learn.
If you’re curious about long-distance hiking — or just want to walk along through the words for a while — the entries below are arranged in order of the journey. Pick up anywhere you like.
Where It All Started
The story doesn’t actually begin on DAY1. Before I set foot on the trail, a French girl changed my plans for the next six months in a fifteen-minute conversation, and the moment I truly felt “okay, I’m going” came even before departure day.
North Island | The First Two Weeks
I regretted it on the first day (well, almost). A 43-kilogram person hauling 15 kilograms of gear across a beach, every step asking myself: did I overestimate what I’m capable of? But it was during these most unglamorous days that I met my first trail companions, survived my first mud battle, got lost in the forest, and in a little seaside town, felt goosebumps rise when four Māori kids started singing.
- DAY1 Starting from the Very Beginning
- DAY2 Should I Keep Going?
- DAY3&4 Walking Together
- DAY5 I Am Amazing!
- DAY6&7 The Mud Battle
- DAY8 Colourful Characters on the Te Araroa
- DAY8 Lost in the Forest
- DAY9&10 First PASS — Ten-Day Entrance Exam
- DAY11 The Human Side of the Trail
- DAY12&13 First Foot Injury
- DAY14 A Lesson from the Māori Kids
North Island | After Walking Became Routine
Once the initial thrill and fear wore off, the trail became daily life. Daily life meaning: walk, eat, pitch the tent, sleep, walk again. Sounds romantic, but when travel turns into just living, you start running into things harder to deal with than mud — like your own prejudices, friction with your hiking partner, and not knowing whether to stop or keep going when a low hits.
But it was also during these days that I walked with a local for a stretch, planted a seed in a town I can’t even name, and on top of a doomsday volcano, looked back at how far I’d come.
- DAY19 The Gift of Stopping
- DAY20 The Best Sprite of My Life
- DAY26 Prejudice
- DAY29 Walking with Company
- DAY36 Walking with a Local
- DAY37 Planting a Seed
- DAY41 Friction with a Trail Partner
- DAY43 Picking Yourself Up After a Low
- DAY45 An Unexpected Encounter
- DAY49 The Heartbeat of a Doomsday Volcano
- DAY55 Pushing the Miles by Hand
- DAY64 North Island DONE!
- The Day I Nearly Died (during the North Island — a retrospective)
Intermission
With the North Island behind me, I had a few days to wait before catching the ferry across Cook Strait. My body was finally allowed to stop walking (my toes probably thought so too), but my mind wouldn’t quit. The South Island’s mountains are higher, the weather less forgiving, and my visa was counting down.
South Island | A Whole New Challenge
The South Island was an entirely different world. The North Island had been gentle hills and coastline; here, the Southern Alps cranked the terrain up to another level, and huts replaced towns as the daily landmarks. The scenery was so beautiful it gave me aesthetic fatigue (a luxurious complaint, I know), but the body started protesting too — my foot injury flared up at the worst possible time, the weather turned its back on me when I needed it most, and some days I caught myself resenting the trail itself.
But it was also on the South Island that I waded into a river the colour of milk, stood on New Zealand’s highest ridgeline, and on a rest day, hitched a ride that changed everything about that afternoon.
- DAY66-68 First Steps on the South Island
- DAY73-75 New Challenge, New View — Richmond Range
- DAY78-80 The Foot Injury Returns — Nelson Lakes
- DAY91 The Milk-Blue River
- DAY92 A Rant About the TA Route
- DAY93 The Emotional Rollercoaster
- DAY94 The Emotional Rollercoaster
- DAY0 A Hitchhike on a Rest Day
South Island | Walking to the Finish
After the highest point on the TA, I thought the rest would be easier. The South Island autumn had other ideas — snow covered the trail, rivers became harder to cross, and more than once I had to turn back to the trailhead. One day I walked from dark to dark without seeing another person.
But it was also on this most exhausting stretch that I stumbled upon the Southern Lights, saw the trail’s first snowfall, had a conversation with a stranger that stayed with me, and walked alongside the companion who’d been there from beginning to end. Then, on Day 120, standing in front of the signpost at Bluff, I turned north and looked back at where I’d come from.
- DAY97 That Moment — On Top of My World
- DAY97 The Southern Lights, Unexpected
- DAY99 Hands and Feet
- DAY103 First Snow on the Trail
- DAY104 A Conversation with a Stranger
- DAY108 The Companion Who Stayed
- DAY112 Becoming a Machine
- DAY115 The Snow I Couldn’t Cross
- DAY117 Dark Humour
- DAY119 Dark to Dark
- DAY120 The LAST DAY
If You’re Thinking About Walking the Te Araroa
I had almost no outdoor experience before I started — I’d done exactly one overnight hike before setting off on this. If you’re considering it, these entries might help. They cover preparation, mindset, dealing with foot injuries, finding a trail partner, and how to talk yourself through the moments when you feel like you can’t keep going.
- DAY2 Should I Keep Going? (the first doubt after departure)
- DAY12&13 First Foot Injury
- DAY43 Picking Yourself Up After a Low
- DAY29 Walking with Company (on trail partners)
- DAY0 Intermission — But the Mountain Is Calling (the North-to-South transition)
These 45 journal entries took years to finish writing. Some were jotted down the same day; others I couldn’t bring myself to revisit for a long time. Those 120 days eventually became the seed of a book — still growing, slowly — but the origin of that story is right here.