🗓️ October 20, 2025
🏁 Kilometers : 0
I begin my story this early morning of October 20, 2025, in the Milford neighborhood north of Auckland. My friend Marylène has kindly been hosting me for the past four days. It's 5:00 AM local time, and I'm taking the bus in two hours to head to the far north of the North Island. I'll be spending the night in the last "big" city before reaching the northernmost point of New Zealand. I finished the final preparations for my backpack yesterday, I visited the last few stores to complete my kit of the perfect little hiker. I checked my list twelve times to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything (although I did manage to forget my glasses last night at my birthday dinner; I might not get them back for another month, so I'll have to find some more this afternoon when I arrive in Kaitaia—that famous town at the very north of the North Island). Although I'm taking these final preparations seriously, I feel a serenity that surprises even myself - I often tend to put all my energy into a single task that absorbs me and makes me anxious—but not this time. Of course, I'm also incredibly excited, as if I'm experiencing a Bastille Day fireworks display. These three weeks I spent in the Vosges mountains in France at the end of August and beginning of September for my preparation, in addition to testing my equipment, have given me the confidence to embark on this new adventure.
Marylène and I leave her house at 7:00 a.m. It takes about fifteen minutes to get to the bus pick-up location. I checked twice the day before to make sure I was going to the right place. We say goodbye, we kiss, she drops me off and leaves. I have to go to the platform C to catch my bus. A simple street, lined with a few shops, quite a bit of traffic, and a couple of bus stops. I check them all to find the elusive platform C, but I'm forced to admit that there isn't one there. I take out my phone and do one last check. Google Maps clearly shows my location. I try entering the same keywords but in a different order… and horror! Another location 15 minutes away from here appears on my screen! Panic ! All my warning lights are flashing red! I immediately imagine having to hitchhike or buy another ticket for the next day. I try to gather my thoughts, call Marylène, who turns around and comes to pick me up 5 minutes later. It won't be possible to catch the bus at the planned location, but we assume I could try to board at one of the next two stops, which are a little further north along the route. Marylène transforms into a driver, and I apologize profusely for making her waste part of her day. We enter the highway and, after a few minutes, manage to overtake the bus, which I recognize by its apple-green color. Now we're in front of the bus, and I know I'll be able to get on at the next stop.
Marylène, thank you again!
On boarding the bus, I run into Ben, who lives in London. We had chatted a few days earlier through the Te Araroa WhatsApp group, which connects hikers starting in October. An hour before boarding the bus, he messages me, telling me I should look for "the pirate" to recognize him. He does indeed have a bit of a Caribbean pirate look with his bandana and goatee. He seems quite humble and kind.
During the bus ride, I also meet Steffie from the Netherlands, Georges from Great Britain, and Steve from Ireland. Upon arriving in Kaitaia, Steffie, Ben, and I realized we had booked a night in the same hostel. We spent the evening together, and then each went to bed for a light sleep, the excitement too intense to sleep deeply.