It was June last year and I was going a little mad. I’d barely been home a year, after living in London earning a wage as freelance contemporary dancer; travelling across Europe, jumping across to Paris for the weekend – all that freedom disappeared. The same old story. My visa ran out. I moved back to Australia. And before I knew it, life became a cycle, work-eat-sleep. Rinse and repeat. Roadtripping around New Zealand became the shining light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.

It was mine and my boyfriend’s silver lining to everything and the subject of many conversations which, in retrospect, is highly likely how four of our friends, plus a couple from Berlin via London, decided to hitch along for the ride.

It was funny for us – but probably more alarming for anyone with young children – to witness our convoy of four matching white vans get around the streets and highways of New Zealand. The windows were down, the music was up and not one of us knew where we were going. It was the blind leading the blind with some shady camping skills thrown in the mix, and not much more than a day-to-day plan. But, that’s how we liked it.

Every day on the north island we drove down picturesque streets lined with wildflowers and picket fences, against an often-infinite landscape of rolling hills dotted with sheep. The Forgotten World Highway was my favourite. It was like spiralling down the rabbit hole from Alice In Wonderland and coming back up at the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, only it was Lauren’s Lavender Farm and there was coffee instead of tea, and the Cheshire cat with its slapstick smile was me! Safe to say that highway had me good. Daily dips in the freezing Whanganui River would temporarily set me straight but roaring campfires at Ohinepane Reserve was the perfect antidote.

On a more sobering note, we did the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, which was probably one of the only things on our formal to-do list. Unfortunately it was also on a lot of other people’s formal to-do list. The crossing boasts New Zealand’s/the world’s best one day hike and they aren’t lying. It is 19 kilometres of still more unbelievable views at every turn and a mind-blowing display of volcanoes, bright neon lakes and steaming craters. It is also Mordor.

My boyfriend and our friend William became instantly obsessed with the idea of climbing one of the volcanoes along with what looked like some very experienced and well-equipped hikers. My pal Kirra and I had to talk them out of it as they gazed up at the volcano completely unfazed by their Converse and denim-outfitted, haven’t-exercised-since-primary-school situation. It wasn’t long until they were onto the next thing however, which was seeing how far they could climb out onto the edge of a volcano. I gave up, ate a vegemite sandwich and spent a roll of film documenting the event.

One day on the south island we were on our way to Takaka and stumbled across a man called Larry. He was fixing a fence and we were lost. “Do you know of any swimming holes around here?” we asked. He hesitated just for a moment and then told us that there was one not too far away. We followed Larry and his two dogs on his quad bike to the end of the road, which led to his house. He stopped, quickly ran into the house and came out with a bag. A few worst-case scenarios ran through my head but I quickly brushed them off before the anxiety took hold – and we continued on. Down the dirt driveway we went, past his house, past his farm and then down a hill, which led to a denser landscape of trees and narrow trails. I began to feel my heart thud inside my chest as we followed Larry into the woods.

One minute we were out on the road and now we were following a stranger into the unknown! I couldn’t tell if I was excited or frightened but I chose to give Larry and his reliable dogs the benefit of the doubt. When we were faced with a muddy, steep hill our van decided to slide and quit, so we were forced to continue the journey on foot. The track became increasingly thinner and the trees blocked out a lot of the daylight. At this point I had skipped over the anxiety phase and tapped into full-fledged survival mode. I was convinced that things were going to go ‘south’ and put a heavy rock in my bag. Who knows what I thought I was going to do with it but thank goodness I didn’t have to find out because once we came out of the woods we were met with the most magnificent view. Giant, green mountains of the Kahurangai National Park framed the edge of a perfect clearing, revealing an old, wooden hut and a stone campfire beside the sparkling, turquoise Waingaro River. The water was so clear you could see every single pebble at the bottom. I was gobsmacked and started to laugh. Larry opened up his bag and pulled out cups, tea and cake for us to have around the fire. I felt horribly guilty and wildly lucky all at the same time. We stayed for 2 adventure-filled days and left very reluctantly. We all hope to see Larry again and I’m sure we will.

The rest of our trip was a beautiful blur of nature, mountains, more swimming, good wine and a lot of laughs. The most laughs were probably had on the worst night when we were camping at Lake Paringa and it bucketed down rain. We all hid inside one van with our citronella candles and a bottle of whisky. We were delirious from driving that day and were absolutely covered in sandfly bites, but we were still so happy. Yay! All in all, having no plans turned out to be the best plan. No matter how many times people tell you how pristine and beautiful New Zealand is, you will never truly understand – until you get out and see it for yourself.

Words and images by Jacqueline Clarke Mitchell