Tongariro Alpine Crossing

Travelling alone is strange because I so desperate want connection, crave people around me, savour every hello to a passing stranger. The highlight of some days is the small talk with the man at the gas station, or the waiter taking my coffee order. “Morning! A flat white please”, doesn’t exactly lend itself to deep connection. But next to my craving is a comfort in solitude that leads me to shy away from interaction. Walking satisfies both cravings, you walk with others but rarely talk.

The Tongariro Alpine Crossing

One of New Zealand's "Great Walks" (punctuation not sarcastic, it was great!)

I could no longer think. The music in my ears tinny ringing and muffled. Hot blood seemed to course behind my irises. I pulled my earphones out. For the first time I was alone with the pain. And the pain was real. And the pain was called being unfit. The only motivation to reach the top was popping a nicotine pouch under my lip. Now that's sad. Also sad is that I am unfit. I felt deranged amid the anxious all-consuming nicotine cravings.

I welcomed the cool that each metre climbed brought.

But then to my surprise, I would quickly recover. Two minutes walking on flat terrain and I felt like I could do the whole thousand steps again, ten times over. The sense of elation and wonder at my body did not last, and soon I wrung out the sweat from my backpack straps before tentatively approaching the next incline.

To reach the top was pure joy. To admire the 360 views over the volcanos scree slopes, those same ones I’d just walked up, no feeling could match it, the sense of achievement.

By the end of the hike, again I was surprised. My legs felt strong, the suffering of the uphill behind me. I had completed what the DOC website called a 6-8hr hike in 4 and a half. Maybe I was stronger than I thought. Now I’m just floating my ego, enough.

Enjoy the photos that prove it was high and hard.