New Zealand: Winter
Hey there, fellow wanderers. It's Ben and Kayla, back from another slice of the world that left us equal parts exhilarated and exhausted. New Zealand in August (better late than never posting that blog huh)? August is winter for down under, when the South Island turns into a snowy playground and the North Island hums, best time to visit! We're talking crisp air that bites just enough to make your coffee steam like a dragon's breath, landscapes that look like they were painted by a cinematographer, and food spots that punch way above their weight. If you've ever dreamed of trading your work laptop for a fjord cruise or an alpine run, this is your sign. We spent six nights total, four in Queenstown and two in Auckland, absorbing every drop out of it like a kauri tree absorbing carbon . Think of this as our love letter to Aotearoa, served with a small side of fun and a heap of gratitude.
## Queenstown
We landed in Queenstown mid-afternoon; It felt otherworldly, mountains, lakes, and somehow we were on an island!? The airport's a modest affair, quiet and efficient, but stepping out? That's when New Zealand hits you. The air's sharp, laced with pine and that faint, tinge of adventure. We grabbed our rental car, a small (by US standards, mid-sized by everyone else’s) SUV that promised to conquer whatever roads we'd throw at it, and pointed it toward our exciting apartment at Stay of Queenstown. It's one of those boutique spots tucked into the hills, with insane views of the lake and that make you forget where you came from. Oh and did we mention that they gave us, fruit, a loaf of bread, some pastries or cookies, eggs, bacon, milk, and more every afternoon! Oddly enough that was one of the most exciting things of the trip; we loved to come back to every evening and seeing what was left for us! We dumped our bags, fired up the laundry machine, because nothing says "vacation" like sorting socks and shirts, but it had to be done, and oddly it’s kind of relaxing.
Downtown Queenstown's a compact buzz of energy, all ski adventure junkies in puffy jackets, rubbing shoulders with underdressed tourists, and tour groups getting back from their bungee jumps. We sauntered down to the wharf, the lake lapping at the docks, with a cold wind blowing down from the mountains as soon as the sun sets. That's where we found Public Kitchen and Bar, a spot that looks out over Lake Wakatipu with the kind of casual vibe, but had some upscale dishes. I went for the surf and turf, a hearty plate of steak and prawns that arrived sizzling, the meat charred just right with a nice crust, just the way I like it. Kayla opted for the pork belly, slow-cooked to that melt-in-your-mouth tenderness and a Tuscan white bean and rosemary stew that balanced the fat with a warm winter feeling. A quick peach ale and a mocktail helped us wash it all down. Conversation flowed easy, the kind where you plot the next day's chaos while the sun dips behind the Remarkables. Queenstown's got that pull, you know? It's not just a town; it's a movie.
The next morning, the forecast called for snow, and we weren't about to sit it out waiting for it to come. We bundled up and drove the winding road to Arrowtown, a historic gold-rush village that's equal parts charming and frozen in time. The streets are lined with those old wooden facades, that have been nicely repainted giving it a more modern look. We parked and ducked into Wolf Coffee Rosters for flat whites, New Zealand's gift to caffeine addicts, strong and velvety with just the right foam. One of us was looking for a tea or matcha which was a little harder to find, but the locals were kind enough to direct our quest to another small café. While sipping, we wandered the shops, picking out postcards with scenes of sheep-dotted hills and fjords that look too perfect to be real. We scribbled notes to friends back home, stamps applied, and dropped them off in a (community) post office that probably hasn't moved since the 1800s.
By afternoon, the snow had started in earnest, fat flakes swirling like confetti from some party. We hit the road again, looping through the countryside, camera in hand. The landscape unfolded like a black-and-white postcard come alive: alpine trees against snow-blanketed mountains, the lake churning a deep navy and wild below. We pulled over at viewpoints, snapping shots until our fingers went numb, the cold seeping through gloves like an unwelcome guest. Until we couldn’t take it any more…and we headed back.
Back at Stay of Queenstown, we thawed out with hot showers and mugs of tea, watching the wintery-mix barely pile up outside, and mostly melt away. But when the storm let up a bit, we couldn't resist. Queenstown Gardens called, a 30-hectare oasis right on the lake's edge. We crunched along paths lined with ancient huge trees, passing along the lakes edge watching the huge snowcapped mountains loom in the distance, that now looked enchanted under the setting sun. It's the kind of place where you feel small, in the best way, nature reminding you she's the boss. We looped back as dusk fell, bellies rumbling again, dreaming of tomorrow's heat.
Day three dawned clear and biting, perfect for scaling heights. We caught the early gondola up to Bob's Peak, the brand new cable car swaying gently as Queenstown shrank below. At the top, the views are obscene: 360 degrees of jagged peaks, the lake a mirror of turquoise even in winter. Have we mentioned the snow capped mountains, gorgeous, with the trees, un-real, like something you would paint (if I could actually paint). We took a quick walk through this enchanted winter wonderland, and took a quick hike with the limited time we had before our appointment at the Onsen (which was the LAST SPOT available for the week). Walking though the tall pine trees in to the snowy mountainsides felt like a hallmark movie setting. While there was no accumulation of snow at the lower elevations, there was quite a bit at the higher elevations… “Hello early Christmas cards!” After a few hundred photos and probably an hour of video we had to head back. We lingered a little longer a the lookout, quietly watching the snow, breath fogging the air, before heading down for something more indulgent.
Onsen Pools and Day Spa became our sanctuary, a tri-onsen ritual that started in a cedar sauna, heat wrapping around us like a steam blanket, sweat beading as eucalyptus steam cleared our heads. Then the hot pool, steaming mineral water sourced from the mountains, soaking away the chill until your muscles turn to jelly. The cold plunge? That's the gut check, a shocking dip into icy depths that jolts you awake, every nerve firing like fireworks. We rotated through it twice, emerging pink and invigorated, the kind of reset that makes you feel invincible.
Our last full day in the south was pure bucket-list magic. We boarded a flight with True South Air, a single turboprop high winged Cessna Caravan glided us over the Fiordland National Park like a trip on the Magic School Bus. The pilot dipped low over glaciers and valleys, pointing out peaks that looked carved from the earth.
Milford Sound appeared like a dream: sheer cliffs plunging into deep navy waters, waterfalls cascading in silver wispy threads, seals quietly lounging on the rocks below. We touched down on a small strip, transferred to a cruise boat, and motored out through the fjord. The air was damp and alive with bird calls, the mountain peaks looming like a sentinel. We spotted dolphins slicing the surface, their fins flashing gray, a little too quick for me to get a photo or video with the camera, but they where there. Lunch on board was a simple ham and butter sandwiches and kiwifruit, tart and juicy, the fruit's name suddenly making perfect sense. The cruise looped through the sound, narration weaving tales of Māori legends and early explorers, before we flew back to Queenstown.
Sitting in the co-pilot seat was amazing, it was wild to fly though the mountains watching the pilot as he manipulated the controls expertly. The hearing the turboprop wind up again spooling to insane speeds, you could feel the power in your chest. The controls looked familiar to the planes I had flown before but the performance was well outside the realm of my experience. I worked hard to capture every angle of his movements, capturing the light, hoping to recreate the moment in the future, for those who watch our YouTube channel. The Pilot was a well educated man, fun to talk to as we soared over the mountains, gleefully taking my camera to get a shot of an alpine lake only on his side. It felt personal, it felt special, like once in a lifetime experience that we are unbelievably thankful for.
Dinner that night was low-key, some meat pies we picked up from the local store, and bao buns the meat rich and sweet. We ate and chatted as we packed our bags for our flight to the big city of New Zealand, Auckland. Four nights in Queenstown flew by, leaving us hooked on that adrenaline-laced high, what an experience…
## Auckland
The next morning, we bid farewell to the south island with a short flight north to Auckland. The InterContinental Auckland welcomed us with an early check-in miracle, our room overlooking the harbor, all sleek lines and harbor views. Bags dropped, we worked with the concierge to book a tour for the following day and hopped a recommend ferry to Devonport, the crossing a breezy 12 minutes across the Waitemata Harbour.
Devonport's a seaside village frozen in charm, white and colorful cottages hugging the hills; reminding me of california, maybe San Francisco. We strolled the wharf first, fishing boats bobbing, the smell of salt and seaweed thick in the air. The small beach stretched out, gritty sand crunching underfoot, waves lapping with that rhythmic insistence, and harbor noises coming from afar; as we watch Auckland proper from a distance. We willed our selves away from the ocean air as we started to peruse the streets, walking from shop to shop, peering in the windows at the curiosities.
Tucked away was Paradox Books, a warren of shelves crammed with everything from satirical political books to a non-fiction book on ocean conservation or even the latest smut hit. We lost an hour there, Kayla unearthing a multitude of books she wanted to read, but didn’t want to carry; Me flipping through travelogues that made me itch for seeing more of the world. I finally settle on that ocean conservation book with some encouragement from the lady at the counter, as it was partially written by David Attenborough, in to the bag it went.
Climbing Mount Victoria capped it off, a short but steep huff to the summit. We timed it for golden hour, the sun gilding Auckland's skyline across the water, the Sky Tower piercing the clouds like a needle. The view's panoramic, hazy volcanoes in the distance, ferries tracing white wakes. It's the kind of vista that lingers in the mind, a reminder of how this city's sprawled between sea and sky.
We took the ferry back, we wandered the harbor, yachts gleaming under lights, street performers strumming guitars. Dinner at The Conservatory felt like stepping into a greenhouse dream: glass walls dripping with ferns, tables lit by candlelight amid tropical plants. Neither of us were terribly hungry, but we had to get something. Auckland's got that urban pulse, but nights like this make it feel intimate, made the world feel smaller.
Our second day was a whirlwind tour, no car needed, just a van and a driver who knew every shortcut. First stop: Hobbiton, that slice of Middle-Earth in the Waikato countryside. Stepping onto the set is surreal, those hobbit holes burrowed into green hills, (fake but real) smoke curling from chimneys like Bilbo's just inside. Our guide spun Tolkien lore as we wandered the party tree and Bag End, the attention to detail mind-blowing: handcrafted thatch roofs, gardens bursting with veggies that looked plucked from a fairy tale (surprisingly most of them real). oh and the wildest part is when they take you inside one of the hobbit-homes; they actually encourage you to touch and interact with the set, not something Disney would allow…
It's nerd heaven, but even if you're not a Rings fan, the pastoral beauty hits hard, sheep grazing peacefully, the air thick with grass and history. We posed for the obligatory photos, Kayla channeling her inner hobbit, as I nearly bump my head on every doorway.
From there, a quick dash to Rotorua, the geothermal heart of the North Island. The landscape shifts dramatically: steaming vents, bubbling mud pools, that sulfur whiff like rotten eggs mixed with promise. We didn't linger long, but it was enough to hear stories of the earth opening up with steam in peoples back yards. First a quick stop at a “secret spot” for lunch for a quick meal before heading to a cultural center to learn more about the Māori.
Te Puia was next, a geothermal wonderland and Māori cultural hub. Geysers erupted in towering plumes, hot springs simmered turquoise, the ground warm underfoot like it's alive. The arts center stole the show: carvers shaping wood masks and adding eyes, weavers twisting plants into intricate patterns. We could not pass up the opportunity to pick one up, which we were told was a protector mask that would protect a home or household. The guide was clever and funny as she joked the whole time with a dry sense of humor that many in the group missed (at least initially).
On the drive back, our driver pulled over at a roadside stand for ice cream she swore by. It was the real deal, creamy vanilla from local dairy, scooped generous and cold. Simple pleasures like that make tours worthwhile. The day stretched long, from Hobbiton greens to Te Puias steams, but we collapsed into bed satisfied, Auckland's lights twinkling outside.
Our final morning was a gentle wind-down. We ascended the Sky Tower, Auckland's iconic spire, elevator whisking us 220 meters up. The enclosed viewing platform offers 360-degree panoramas: harbor glittering, volcanoes still hazy on the horizon, the city a mosaic of dark roofs and blue sea. We lingered, tracing our route on the maps, before dropping back down to the street level for some quick shopping. Queen Street's a shopper's vein, boutiques hawking merino wool sweaters soft as clouds and Manuka honey jars that promise miracles. We grabbed some local chocolates laced with that special honey.
Then it was off to the airport, flight bound for our next adventure. New Zealand left us with full hearts and fuller bellies, a reminder that the best trips aren't about checklists but the tastes, the views, the unexpected chats with locals who treat you like family. Queenstown's wild spirit, Auckland's cultured hum, Milford's majesty, and Hobbiton's whimsy. It's a country that demands you show up, and rewards you tenfold. If you're plotting your escape, go now. Pack layers (especially in winter), an appetite, and zero expectations. Aotearoa will handle the rest.
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### Practical Tips for New Zealand in Winter
Okay, so you’re inspired to chase that New Zealand winter magic? Excellent choice. But a little preparation goes a long way. Here's a dose of practical advice, straight from our experience, to maximize your adventure.
1. **Layers, Layers, Layers:** Seriously. Don’t underestimate the New Zealand climate. It's wildly variable. You can experience sunshine, rain, snow, and gale-force winds all in the same afternoon. Pack warm hats, fleece jackets, waterproof outer shells, and warm socks. Like an onion, easily peeled back or added as needed.
2. **Driving in Winter Conditions:** If you plan on renting a car, be prepared for potentially challenging driving. Roads can be icy or snow-covered, particularly in the South Island. Consider a 4x4 vehicle for added stability. Check road conditions before you set off (NZTA website is your go-to) and be comfortable driving in potentially adverse weather. If you’re not experienced in winter driving, consider sticking to public transport or organized tours.
3. **Embrace the Indoors:** Winter in New Zealand is a cozy season. Don't be afraid to seek refuge in charming cafes, warm pubs, and inviting restaurants. It’s a great excuse to indulge in hearty comfort food! Shopping is also fun, depending on where you are coming from the conversion rate might be nice!
4. **Booking Ahead is Key:** Popular activities and accommodations, particularly in Queenstown, book up well in advance during peak winter season. Secure your flights, tours, and lodging early to avoid disappointment.
5. **Embrace the Off-Season Perks:** Winter travel has its advantages. You’re less likely to encounter crowds, prices are generally lower (excluding peak holiday weeks), and the landscapes have a unique, ethereal beauty under a blanket of snow.
6. **Be Prepared for Short Daylight Hours:** Winter days are shorter. Plan your activities accordingly and be mindful of the limited daylight hours, especially if you’re hiking or exploring remote areas. (This was really tough as days could be really limited)
7. **Understand the Māori Traditions:** If you have the opportunity, learn a little about these traditions and consider attending a cultural performance or visiting a local marae (meeting place) or other cultural center.
8. **Pack a Good Camera (it’s gorgeous out there):** You’re going to want to capture those epic landscapes. Make sure your camera is charged and you have spare batteries. The cold drains power quickly, Including your cellphone!
9. **North vs South:** the South Island may be busy in winter with the skiing and winter events, but the north island can be much more relaxed in the winter. The South Island is more adventurous and harder to travel in general vs the North Island, which can be easier to travel some distance. The South Island is also colder and more wild, if that’s your thing; otherwise the North Island has some nightlife in places like Auckland!
Good Luck; Have Fun!
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