After thirty sleepless hours, we landed after sunset. Auckland in June felt like Portland in January: a walkable city spritzed in a 50-degree drizzle. The streets were mirror slick, crisp and black. We ordered room service and watched a World Cup rebroadcast, attempting to acclimate to a radically different time zone and hemisphere.
Still adjusting to the 16-hour time difference, I walked from my hotel under the SkyTower through Albert Park and the University, to the Auckland Domain and the War Memorial and Natural History Museum.
In 1998, a film location scout knocked on the door of a family farm outside Auckland. Surveying the rolling green hills of Matamata from a helicopter, director Peter Jackson had found the perfect location for the Shire in the Alexander's 1,250-acre sheep farm. For the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the New Zealand army helped construct the Hobbiton set and built a permanent road to support film crews and equipment.
After LOTR wrapped, the temporary set was dismantled. Years later, the farm reprised its role in The Hobbit, but this time the Alexanders convinced Jackson to build a permanent set and later turn it into an attraction. Hobbiton currently has over 40 Hobbit holes and a functioning pub, the Green Dragon, which guests tour and is also used for weddings and special events.
The ubiquitous espresso served across New Zealand from cafés and hotels to McDonald's is midway between a frothy cappuccino and a smooth latte.
The North Island looks like God dropped the West Coast into the South Pacific: a Californian coastline, giant redwoods, evergreen forests. Taupō reminded us of Tahoe: a bright blue lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains and steamy forests.
Days after leaving Hobbiton, we woke up with Mt. Ngauruhoe (aka Mt. Doom).
Black soil, steady rain, evergreen. From the Bay of Plenty to the hills of Tirau, New Zealand is a farmer's delight, abundant even in Winter. Each day throughout our 1,200-mile expedition, we found farm-fresh eggs with bright orange yolks, seriously-crisp, thick-cut bacon, fresh herbs and house-made condiments, vine-ripe tomatoes, warm, crusty bread, and the pan-Pacific influences of the dozens of cuisines and cultures that have cross-pollinated this island nation.
On Feb 3, 1931, Napier was devastated by a 7.8-magnitude earthquake that killed hundreds, injured thousands, and destroyed most of Hawke's Bay. It was the worst natural disaster in New Zealand's history. Napier was rebuilt using improved construction techniques and updated building codes---completely in an Art Deco style. Today, it is considered one of the finest collections of Art Deco in the world.
An urban garden near the Napier boardwalk.
New Zealand is best known for Sauvignon Blanc, but in Hawke's Bay, wineries focus on Bordeaux blends and Syrahs. Just over the majestic Te Mata mountain range are the vineyards of the Gimblett Gravels. Less than 30 years old, the vineyards were planted in the loamy soil and rocky beds that were once the Ngaruroro River, which radically changed course after an earthquake in 1867. In a country of steaming craters and active volcanoes, one seismic event could dramatically disrupt the viticulture of New Zealand's oldest and second largest wine-producing region.
After two weeks exploring New Zealand's North Island, it was time to head back to Auckland and the long flight home. But first, we made a detour up the 52-mile long Coromandel Peninsula. Winding around hairpin turns, we slowly ascended the steep hills and then back down into Tairua, the first of many beaches in the region.
The next day we walked along Hot Water Beach, where the water below the sand is heated to 150°F by underground thermal vents. We warmed our feet in the shallow pits that are dug each day by dozens of beachcombers, and are washed away at high tide. Down the road, we continued to Cathedral Cove. Accessible only by boat or on foot, we hiked the trail from a parking lot overlook to the beach 440 feet down.
© 2026 Jamie Martin