As it turned out, hitchhiking all the way from Christchurch to Nelson turned out to be easier than expected. As with my last departure from Christchurch, I walked to the bus exchange and caught a bus to the outer city limits. The driver, noticing my backpack (which is quite hard to miss), asked me if I was hitchhiking and dropped me off at a spot that would hopefully get me a ride as soon as possible. I just love the helpful Kiwis! I waited here only a few minutes before I was picked up by “Dennis the concrete replacer”, a jolly Maori man who introduced himself as just that. Not a kilometre down the road, he stopped to pick up another hitchhiker, a 
thirty to forty something lady from San Francisco. He dropped us both off down the road some 10km. The San Franciscan awkwardly hinted that we shouldn’t stand together, but I was already getting my bag on my shoulder to walk down the road. Somewhat firmly she said, “I’ll stay here”, insinuating that she preferred the location. I shrugged in indifference and walked along the road back towards town, hearing her shout in the distance “I’ll get there before you do!” In fact, as I was trying to understand what she was shouting, a backpacker van was stopping for me. In I climbed, tossing my bag in the back with me and after quickly introducing myself to the couple in the front, asked if there was room for one more. We pulled up the road the hundred metres to let the now very sheepish looking San Franciscan in as well. The twenty somethings up front were a guy from Alaska, and a gal from Alberta, having met on the road and taken a relocation deal on the campervan to get it to Auckland in a week for $1 a day. A bit too fast for my liking, but it suits some I suppose. They were heading all the way to Picton, the gateway to the North Island, and would take me the whole way before boarding the ferry. We dropped the San Franciscan off not too far down the road and I told them the funny story of her assuming a female would 
get the first drive. On the ride north we stopped for photos in Kaikoura, the famous scenic north east coast of the South Island. My only real trouble was how to get from the highway going north, west toward Nelson where I would meet Suzanne. Three well travelled Kiwis all concurred that the Queen Charlotte Pass along the North Shore, west of Picton was the best route to hitchhike to Nelson. Arriving in Picton, I walked the short distance to the entrance of the Queen Charlotte Pass and prepared to wait as long as it would take. I knew the ferry would bring my best chance as hundreds of offloading cars would possibly be going my way so I checked the schedule and was disappointed to discover the next arrival would be after 6pm while it was only 4. I stuck out my thumb to every passing vehicle anyway and soon enough a car was stopped. Unfortunately, it was only to deliver bad news, and the DOC officer behind the wheel informed me that I was on the wrong path and should backtrack 
some 30km to the more significant highway heading west before north again. This part of New Zealand has many roads taking you the same place, highly inconvenient for a hitchhiker as it splits traffic up and confuses route planning. I took his advice, walked to the other side of town and stuck out my thumb, happy to wait only a few minutes before a car stopped, taking me to a junction just before Blenheim, a town to which I would later return. The driver, a grape growing grade school teacher from the area had some good advice on seeing the Marlborough wine region and some interesting stories from his own days of travelling which I enjoyed, taking my mind off the annoyance of backtracking because of bad advice. I waited for around 30 minutes at the next junction, feeling a bit impatient and wishing I could just be in Nelson already. By this point it was 5 and I was getting tired of hitchhiking for the day. Luckily, it wasn’t too long before two Israelis stopped and took me all the way to Nelson after having taken a wrong turn around the Queen Charlotte Pass and done some backtracking of their own.
thirty to forty something lady from San Francisco. He dropped us both off down the road some 10km. The San Franciscan awkwardly hinted that we shouldn’t stand together, but I was already getting my bag on my shoulder to walk down the road. Somewhat firmly she said, “I’ll stay here”, insinuating that she preferred the location. I shrugged in indifference and walked along the road back towards town, hearing her shout in the distance “I’ll get there before you do!” In fact, as I was trying to understand what she was shouting, a backpacker van was stopping for me. In I climbed, tossing my bag in the back with me and after quickly introducing myself to the couple in the front, asked if there was room for one more. We pulled up the road the hundred metres to let the now very sheepish looking San Franciscan in as well. The twenty somethings up front were a guy from Alaska, and a gal from Alberta, having met on the road and taken a relocation deal on the campervan to get it to Auckland in a week for $1 a day. A bit too fast for my liking, but it suits some I suppose. They were heading all the way to Picton, the gateway to the North Island, and would take me the whole way before boarding the ferry. We dropped the San Franciscan off not too far down the road and I told them the funny story of her assuming a female would 
get the first drive. On the ride north we stopped for photos in Kaikoura, the famous scenic north east coast of the South Island. My only real trouble was how to get from the highway going north, west toward Nelson where I would meet Suzanne. Three well travelled Kiwis all concurred that the Queen Charlotte Pass along the North Shore, west of Picton was the best route to hitchhike to Nelson. Arriving in Picton, I walked the short distance to the entrance of the Queen Charlotte Pass and prepared to wait as long as it would take. I knew the ferry would bring my best chance as hundreds of offloading cars would possibly be going my way so I checked the schedule and was disappointed to discover the next arrival would be after 6pm while it was only 4. I stuck out my thumb to every passing vehicle anyway and soon enough a car was stopped. Unfortunately, it was only to deliver bad news, and the DOC officer behind the wheel informed me that I was on the wrong path and should backtrack 
some 30km to the more significant highway heading west before north again. This part of New Zealand has many roads taking you the same place, highly inconvenient for a hitchhiker as it splits traffic up and confuses route planning. I took his advice, walked to the other side of town and stuck out my thumb, happy to wait only a few minutes before a car stopped, taking me to a junction just before Blenheim, a town to which I would later return. The driver, a grape growing grade school teacher from the area had some good advice on seeing the Marlborough wine region and some interesting stories from his own days of travelling which I enjoyed, taking my mind off the annoyance of backtracking because of bad advice. I waited for around 30 minutes at the next junction, feeling a bit impatient and wishing I could just be in Nelson already. By this point it was 5 and I was getting tired of hitchhiking for the day. Luckily, it wasn’t too long before two Israelis stopped and took me all the way to Nelson after having taken a wrong turn around the Queen Charlotte Pass and done some backtracking of their own.Finally I arrived in Nelson around 7pm, minutes before reception was going to give up my room to someone else. After checking in I searched the whole hostel for Suzanne but could find no trace; reception said she was looking for me as well but somehow we missed each other. I gave up on the search and used their free internet to catch up on photos. Around 8 Suzanne and I met after she returned from a yoga interlude to soothe the stress that I might not make it. We made a supper of burritos together before sitting down to plan the next days’ adventures. We were off to Abel Tasman National Park, something we each wanted to do, but neither wanted to do alone. How convenient that we were now together! We threw together a rough plan and decided much would have to be planned on the fly.
The next morning we each packed only what we would need for three nights in Abel Tasman and left the rest in baggage storage at the hostel. After booking our stay in the park at the DOC office, we walked to the main road out of town and practiced walking backwards before setting our gear down. Suzanne had done a bit of hitchhiking within cities in Australia, but hadn’t done longer distance hitching so this was a first for her, and was surprised at waiting over a couple minutes for a ride. After those couple minutes we decided to walk a bit further down the road. It was as she continued on her own and I fished through my bag for something that
we realised I was a liability to her getting rides. Not one minute after she walked ahead a car was stopped with a seventy-something man looking slightly disappointed as I approached as well. Suzanne and I established that she would sit front seat, handling the socialising while I rode backseat, handling the navigation and ensuring we got off at the right spot. This would remain the same for the duration of our travels together. We were let out at the edge of town and set our bags down. I ran into a convenience store a few metres away to check on the price of One Square Meal bars and apparently as I entered the store’s threshold, a car was already stopping. I’ve heard of hitchhiking being easy, but this isn’t even fair. This time, a middle aged lady was stopped and she could take us as far as the main road into Abel Tasman, a 10km walk from there or another ride if we were so lucky. She frankly admitted that if she saw the two of us standing together she would not have stopped, but getting to talk to Suzanne first, and then meeting me before getting in, it was fine. She does not usually pick up hitchhikers but couldn’t leave a young lady on the side of the road. She dropped us off at the main road as promised and continued on her way. Here we faced a dilemma, wait for a ride that could potentially take ages to materialise, or walk the 10km and be tired before we even hit the park. We opted to wait, and setting down our gear we got ready to wait for a while. The road connects civilisation with a town called Marahau, and Abel Tasman, but aside from the odd local and campers, few travel this road. Suzanne set off to find facilities nearby and in her
absence I scored my first luck of the day. Two English gals in the twenties stopped for me and offered me a ride all the way to Marahau. Like the older gentleman, they too seemed disappointed when I said I was waiting for a companion but agreed to take us both. Lucky for me, because if I hadn’t gotten us at least one ride that day, I’m sure I would have heard about it the rest of the time we travelled together, or at least until I got us a ride singlehandedly.
we realised I was a liability to her getting rides. Not one minute after she walked ahead a car was stopped with a seventy-something man looking slightly disappointed as I approached as well. Suzanne and I established that she would sit front seat, handling the socialising while I rode backseat, handling the navigation and ensuring we got off at the right spot. This would remain the same for the duration of our travels together. We were let out at the edge of town and set our bags down. I ran into a convenience store a few metres away to check on the price of One Square Meal bars and apparently as I entered the store’s threshold, a car was already stopping. I’ve heard of hitchhiking being easy, but this isn’t even fair. This time, a middle aged lady was stopped and she could take us as far as the main road into Abel Tasman, a 10km walk from there or another ride if we were so lucky. She frankly admitted that if she saw the two of us standing together she would not have stopped, but getting to talk to Suzanne first, and then meeting me before getting in, it was fine. She does not usually pick up hitchhikers but couldn’t leave a young lady on the side of the road. She dropped us off at the main road as promised and continued on her way. Here we faced a dilemma, wait for a ride that could potentially take ages to materialise, or walk the 10km and be tired before we even hit the park. We opted to wait, and setting down our gear we got ready to wait for a while. The road connects civilisation with a town called Marahau, and Abel Tasman, but aside from the odd local and campers, few travel this road. Suzanne set off to find facilities nearby and in her
absence I scored my first luck of the day. Two English gals in the twenties stopped for me and offered me a ride all the way to Marahau. Like the older gentleman, they too seemed disappointed when I said I was waiting for a companion but agreed to take us both. Lucky for me, because if I hadn’t gotten us at least one ride that day, I’m sure I would have heard about it the rest of the time we travelled together, or at least until I got us a ride singlehandedly.Park fees already paid for back in Nelson, we had only to get into the park and set off on one of New Zealand’s “Great Walks”. We hit the convenience store for supplies and a final ice cream before hitting the trail, happy to get started. I’m not really sure what “Great Walk” means specifically, whether it indicates some element of scenic superiority over other walks in NZ, but at Abel Tasman it meant wide, well developed paths and easy walking. The park is highly accessible and toured by many types 
of hikers and campers. As it is a coastal trek and graced with many stunning beaches, a water taxi service can whisk hikers to or from any part of the park, a service enjoyed by many day trippers, taking a morning taxi any distance into the park and walking back out before dusk or to a prearranged pickup. The more ambitious, like us, aim to tackle the whole 50km track from start to finish, ending in a place too small to be called a town at the north of the park. The official recommendation by DOC is to do the park in 5 nights, staying at each of their 5 huts and taking time during the day to participate in one of the numerous activities on offer, from day hikes to kayaking. We aimed to hike a third of the way in the first day, another third the next day, and be out of the park by the afternoon of the third day. As many plans do, these plans would change. The track is easy and by the end of the first day we felt like it was good exercise but nothing too strenuous. The scenery is striking coastline with rainforest foliage against a backdrop of aquamarine sea and tan beaches. Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate and didn’t give us any of the famous blue skies of Abel Tasman. We camped the first night at Torrent bay, a lovely little beach with room for only a handful of tents. A tap with running water supplied a makeshift shower after a quick dip and water for cooking, but needed purified with tablets or boiling – how convenient that I always travel with purification tablets!
of hikers and campers. As it is a coastal trek and graced with many stunning beaches, a water taxi service can whisk hikers to or from any part of the park, a service enjoyed by many day trippers, taking a morning taxi any distance into the park and walking back out before dusk or to a prearranged pickup. The more ambitious, like us, aim to tackle the whole 50km track from start to finish, ending in a place too small to be called a town at the north of the park. The official recommendation by DOC is to do the park in 5 nights, staying at each of their 5 huts and taking time during the day to participate in one of the numerous activities on offer, from day hikes to kayaking. We aimed to hike a third of the way in the first day, another third the next day, and be out of the park by the afternoon of the third day. As many plans do, these plans would change. The track is easy and by the end of the first day we felt like it was good exercise but nothing too strenuous. The scenery is striking coastline with rainforest foliage against a backdrop of aquamarine sea and tan beaches. Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate and didn’t give us any of the famous blue skies of Abel Tasman. We camped the first night at Torrent bay, a lovely little beach with room for only a handful of tents. A tap with running water supplied a makeshift shower after a quick dip and water for cooking, but needed purified with tablets or boiling – how convenient that I always travel with purification tablets!The rain started sometime in the night, a light trickle which woke me but did not worry me. It grew until it was a torrential downpour which my tent luckily stood up to. Neighbours were not so fortunate, and when we spoke the next morning they were hanging their sleeping bags to dry. Their tent 
had become a bath in the night, the walls not quite waterproof but the floor doing a sufficient job. We were spared a similar fate and woke dry and ready to tackle another day of hiking. Today we met our first low tide crossing, a part of the path which must be made at low tide. This day’s crossing had a high tide alternate, but it was extra distance to loop around, and the prospect of wading thigh deep in water was somehow exciting. We waited with a growing group of campers as the water receded, before finding a suitable route. Passing by Bark Bay, where many of the campers we met were staying the night, we came to another low tide crossing, this one with no high tide alternate. Fortunately, the low tide crossings all have a grace period of at least an hour either side of absolute low tide, and we made it past two low tide crossings a couple hours apart in one tide. The weather held in the morning, but no sun shone all day. Disappointed 
with the lack of sun and hoping maybe to catch a ride back to Nelson upon leaving the park, we modified our plans slightly to travel further this day, and be out of the park by noon the following day. Unfortunately, as we reached Tonga Beach, we realised we were faced by another low tide crossing, this one with no alternate route and were effectively stranded until the next low tide at either 5am or noon the next day. We set up camp and waited out the remainder of the evening, enjoying a quick swim in the still-too-chilly-for-me water (around 18 degrees). Again, water was supplied by tap, the pressure great enough to supply water to flush toilets, of which there were four including ample supplies of toilet paper. Maybe that’s why it’s a ‘Great Walk’.
had become a bath in the night, the walls not quite waterproof but the floor doing a sufficient job. We were spared a similar fate and woke dry and ready to tackle another day of hiking. Today we met our first low tide crossing, a part of the path which must be made at low tide. This day’s crossing had a high tide alternate, but it was extra distance to loop around, and the prospect of wading thigh deep in water was somehow exciting. We waited with a growing group of campers as the water receded, before finding a suitable route. Passing by Bark Bay, where many of the campers we met were staying the night, we came to another low tide crossing, this one with no high tide alternate. Fortunately, the low tide crossings all have a grace period of at least an hour either side of absolute low tide, and we made it past two low tide crossings a couple hours apart in one tide. The weather held in the morning, but no sun shone all day. Disappointed 
with the lack of sun and hoping maybe to catch a ride back to Nelson upon leaving the park, we modified our plans slightly to travel further this day, and be out of the park by noon the following day. Unfortunately, as we reached Tonga Beach, we realised we were faced by another low tide crossing, this one with no alternate route and were effectively stranded until the next low tide at either 5am or noon the next day. We set up camp and waited out the remainder of the evening, enjoying a quick swim in the still-too-chilly-for-me water (around 18 degrees). Again, water was supplied by tap, the pressure great enough to supply water to flush toilets, of which there were four including ample supplies of toilet paper. Maybe that’s why it’s a ‘Great Walk’.The rain started as we were arriving at the campsite, but abated by dusk at which point we were treated to a subtle but fantastic sunset. Clouds moved back in and showers came and went throughout the night, finally 
settling in by morning and holding steady. We awoke to heavy rain and ran to the nearby cook shelter to congregate with the other travellers. A break was necessary as the low tide crossing could not be attempted until noon, so we killed time chatting. Other travellers brought discouraging news of continued rain showers in the most recent forecasts. Every now and then a drenched hiker would run into the shelter, having come from as far away as Bark Bay, experiencing nothing but rain the whole way. Looking at the mood of these incoming travellers, Suzanne and I had a chat about the rest of the trek. We didn’t come to Abel Tasman to hike in bad weather, and while weather is part of hiking, we are both on vacation and we agreed we could allow ourselves a little bit of luxury. 
We agreed to find out how much a water taxi would cost back to Marahau, and in the meantime, pack up to leave either way. As we were packing, a water taxi arrived to drop off some customers and we were informed a trip back to Marahau would cost $37. Without so much as a word between us we both agreed it was worth it, hurriedly packed the tent and hopped aboard. We didn’t finish Abel Tasman, but we wished those who persevered the best of luck.
settling in by morning and holding steady. We awoke to heavy rain and ran to the nearby cook shelter to congregate with the other travellers. A break was necessary as the low tide crossing could not be attempted until noon, so we killed time chatting. Other travellers brought discouraging news of continued rain showers in the most recent forecasts. Every now and then a drenched hiker would run into the shelter, having come from as far away as Bark Bay, experiencing nothing but rain the whole way. Looking at the mood of these incoming travellers, Suzanne and I had a chat about the rest of the trek. We didn’t come to Abel Tasman to hike in bad weather, and while weather is part of hiking, we are both on vacation and we agreed we could allow ourselves a little bit of luxury. 
We agreed to find out how much a water taxi would cost back to Marahau, and in the meantime, pack up to leave either way. As we were packing, a water taxi arrived to drop off some customers and we were informed a trip back to Marahau would cost $37. Without so much as a word between us we both agreed it was worth it, hurriedly packed the tent and hopped aboard. We didn’t finish Abel Tasman, but we wished those who persevered the best of luck.The water taxi ride was also a sightseeing experience and as the driver spotted items of interest he slowed and gave us a chance to get our photos and make our memories. We saw a Blue Penguin in the water, some interesting geological features of note, and spent some time chasing a sting ray around. We arrived back in Marahau slightly tired and glad to be out of the bad weather – so much so that it made up for the disappointment of not making it to the end of the trail.
Hitchhiking back to Nelson was made easy by a lady who picked us up from Marahau, having gone out of her way to drop off two hitchhikers in Marahau and now travelling near to Nelson. From 
here we could have walked a couple hours but exercised the thumbs instead, quickly landing a ride with couriers, whose van we rode in the back of (quite illegally, I’m sure). They dropped us off at the limits of Nelson, where we quickly got a ride with a lady who dropped us off at our hostel. Maximum wait time was around 5 minutes. Unfortunately, the hostel had no availability so after picking up our gear and repacking, we headed across town for another hostel, the evidently quite popular Hostel Paradiso. Famed for its resort feel, we felt it was a bit too packed to feel as relaxed as they advertised, but it was a place to get a good night of sleep out of the brush and we thrilled with that!
here we could have walked a couple hours but exercised the thumbs instead, quickly landing a ride with couriers, whose van we rode in the back of (quite illegally, I’m sure). They dropped us off at the limits of Nelson, where we quickly got a ride with a lady who dropped us off at our hostel. Maximum wait time was around 5 minutes. Unfortunately, the hostel had no availability so after picking up our gear and repacking, we headed across town for another hostel, the evidently quite popular Hostel Paradiso. Famed for its resort feel, we felt it was a bit too packed to feel as relaxed as they advertised, but it was a place to get a good night of sleep out of the brush and we thrilled with that!The trek in Abel Tasman was wonderful and a pain all in the same. The blue sky, aquamarine water, tan beaches, and intense green foliage form a striking palate from what I gather of other photos. Ours are missing the 
former, and the loss is significant. It was nice to stretch the legs and really move, especially out of the city and experience sleeping quite far from real civilisation once again. I can confidently say however, that Abel Tasman must be seen in fine weather or the lure of paradise is lost. This part of the South Island truly lived up to the title of rainforest.
former, and the loss is significant. It was nice to stretch the legs and really move, especially out of the city and experience sleeping quite far from real civilisation once again. I can confidently say however, that Abel Tasman must be seen in fine weather or the lure of paradise is lost. This part of the South Island truly lived up to the title of rainforest.
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