Looking through photographs, I returned to a journey through New Zealand with my daughter in 2015: helicopters, a glacier walk, learning to fly, riding horses and skiing. We called it our Middle-earth journey. Years later, some of the memories still come back immediately.
We travelled from Rangitoto near Auckland through Hobbiton, the horse-country around Cambridge and a boutique hotel in Wellington, then on to the South Island’s glaciers, snowy mountains and film landscapes around Glenorchy. There were adventurous days, but also small, comfortable pleasures.
The North Island: another map opens in a museum
After arriving in Auckland, we visited Rangitoto. A boat journey from the city brought us into a very different volcanic landscape.
Auckland Museum’s white building impressed me before we went inside; from the lawns we could look towards the city and harbour. Inside, Māori culture and performance, Polynesian migration, navigation and Pacific islands seemed to open another map in my mind.
As we looked and listened, we began imagining another journey together, towards the smaller Pacific nations. Work and life intervened, and that wish waited for a long time. In 2026, we finally travelled to Fiji together.
Gardens, Hobbiton and a teapot in a knitted cosy
Hamilton Gardens surprised me. Encountering Chinese and Japanese garden forms in New Zealand was fascinating. Walking between the gardens, I kept noticing arrangements of space that felt at once familiar and unfamiliar.
We eventually arrived at Hobbiton, a place we had been looking forward to. Green hills, round doors set into the grass, farmland and sheep: a landscape we knew from the films had become a place we could walk into.
An entirely impractical thought came to me: if I ever had a farm like this, I would find a director like Peter Jackson and have a film made there. Travel sometimes gives room to precisely that sort of daydream.
At a farm B&B on the North Island, the milk came freshly from the farm. There were hot-water bottles in the room, and the teapot wore a knitted cosy. I still remember that teapot. Comfort there did not depend on luxury.
Back in the room that evening, there was a locally bought face mask, a little mānuka honey and lavender oil near the pillow. I said to my daughter, “May we meet countless elves tonight.”
Geothermal places, hot springs and a rebuilt city
Rotorua changed the scene again. At Te Puia, steam rose from the ground and there was sulphur in the air, with hot water and bubbling mud. Around Lake Taupō, I watched young people brave the cold to enter outdoor hot water.
Napier appealed to me in a different way. Knowing about its rebuilding after the 1931 earthquake made me look more carefully at the lines of buildings, colours and old shop signs. I was drawn to the way a place could grow into its present form after destruction.
The real craft behind the magic
In Wellington, The Lord of the Rings felt especially close. We visited Wētā and encountered the creatures, armour, weapons and props behind the films. Standing in front of them, it was easy to forget that they belonged to an imagined world.
I love seeing that work behind the scenes. An imaginary world still needs real people and real craft to make each detail. Later, in Nelson, we found a jeweller associated with the film rings; the objects were right there behind the counter.
The South Island: some experiences are enough once
The South Island’s cold met us immediately. We wrapped ourselves in down jackets in Christchurch’s botanical gardens and soaked at Hanmer Springs, with tea brought from home. In Kaikōura, there were seals resting by the rocks and crayfish that I very much enjoyed.
We took a helicopter for a glacier walk. My palms were sweating before we boarded. On the ice, I could hear it crunch underfoot. My daughter was excited; I kept close to the guide. Sometimes one experience is enough to learn how something feels to you.
In Wānaka I tried learning to fly a plane. I struggled to keep the movement steady, and my palms were wet when we landed. My daughter managed to sit calmly while I was at the controls. Afterwards, I felt little need to repeat the lesson.
A four-wheel-drive outing and horse riding around Glenorchy took us into the valleys and film landscapes. In Queenstown, we tried skiing too. For someone who usually gravitates towards tea, flowers, food and museums, those were energetic days.
My daughter skied with the agility of a little penguin. Back at the hotel, I sought the fire, a Jacuzzi and a sauna, and took a while to recover. That difference is part of what makes travelling together interesting: we try something, then learn what each of us enjoys.
Knowing what actually nourishes you
On that journey we shared film worlds, museums, gardens, volcanic landscapes and ice. There was also a teapot on a farm table, honey and lavender at the end of a day. Years later, the small pleasures return alongside the grand landscapes.
I am increasingly clear about what I want to make time for. Some adventures were wonderful to try once. Afterwards, I still find my way towards gardens, museums, warm water, good food and a cup of tea. Knowing what nourishes you, and choosing it without embarrassment, is part of what being an Earth Player means to me.
