You know those random conversations you sometimes have with kids that astound and shock you in equal measure?
I had one of them with my kids in New Zealand recently.
We were surrounded by snow-capped mountains on the South Island, truly my happiest of places. I mean, if you could have a crush on a country, I’ve got it bad for New Zealand (she says, writing her name and NZ in a heart with an arrow through it in her journal).
Which is weird, given I never wanted to travel there when I was younger. I have a stint being involved with real estate group Harcourts to thank for the eventual love affair.
When I was in my early 20s, I was part of the real estate group that brought Harcourts to Tasmania. As an added bonus, I was welcomed with open arms into their large network of offices and those people, are some of the kindest souls I’ve ever encountered in business.
Head office at the time was based in Christchurch, so I travelled there a lot. So frequently, in fact, that it started to feel like a domestic trip. One day, I nearly forgot my passport because flying there felt as straightforward as heading to Melbourne.
It was during those trips that beautiful things happened. I did a speaking job in Christchurch and was told, “We’ve organised you a car and a stay in our bach in Hanmer Springs afterwards.”
Hammer Springs? No, HaNmer.
Bach…. elor? Not quite, a bach is like a shack / holiday home in NZ.
It was on little side quests like that one that I fell more and more in love with this country. Hot springs, mountains, stunning vistas, beautiful people. What’s not to love?
Then I learnt to ski there in my late 20s, and there was no looking back. I was an instant convert, a walking, talking advertisement for New Zealand.
Flying into Queenstown Airport is one of the most amazing sights I’ve ever seen, and I hope you get to experience it during daylight hours one day, if you haven’t already.
Over the past few years, I’ve also been fortunate enough to go rafting after arriving by helicopter and to head off on some epic hiking adventures in and around Wānaka.
Cut to this not-so-very-outdoorsy girl is now stocking up on Mons apparel and jonesing for another trip to Wānaka like it’s an illicit drug.
I spent the most recent school holidays there with my kids, staying across Queenstown, Arrowtown and Wānaka. (Some might say I’m looking for a future home, but that may be a tiny bit premature.)
We skied Coronet Peak, The Remarkables and Treble Cone (my new fave). My 15-year-old also snowboarded - in the way that only a teenager trying to learn something “before she gets too old” can pick up something so quickly that I might kill myself doing.
We did all sorts of goofy things, including a Lord of the Rings tour because, well, New Zealand, and my kids are fans.
We also rather foolishly set out on a 43-kilometre bike ride completely unprepared. (Details.) But wow, the views.
During one of our car rides, because Queenstown traffic is my least favourite thing about the place, I asked my daughters what kind of animal I would be. (I love games and car games and asking stupid questions).
I was expecting some sort of bird of prey. I’m protective, after all, and I like to fly. In planes, that is.
The answer from my 15-year-old came back quickly and definitively, if not a little demoralisingly. She said, with complete conviction, that I would be a bit like a baby panda.
Yep. You’ve got it. One of those creatures you laugh at as it tumbles off branches.
Then she clarified. Apparently, it’s because I’m cute and zen, but also a bit crazy.
You know what? I think she probably nailed it.
So this is a tiny love letter to New Zealand, to school holidays, to honest kids, and to having enough time together to talk about the smallest and strangest of things.
I love NZ so much that I’m running a women’s leadership retreat there next year - maybe two. Learn more about that and register for future ones in Tassie and potentially Thailand here:
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