As the early winter made itself at home on the Mosel River, experts were saying it was going to be a long, dark and cold winter, perhaps the most so in history. We were living in the house next to Johannes’ family, lucky because his mom made a delicious lunch (the biggest meal of the day), a custom for living in the country in Germany. When harvest ended, there was a short pause and pruning season began. For as long as we could stand it, we pruned in the snow, 25 degrees, and took breaks in the shelter of the car, warming our insides with hot tea and rum.

On our €8 per hour salary (and tax returns), we managed to save enough for a flight to New Zealand. We knew my visa for Germany would be ending soon, so we needed the next plan of action.

We arrived in New Zealand on March 4th, as directed by the winemaker, but harvest was behind this year — three weeks later than expected. We were shown around our living quarters, an old, large, wood double wide, probably once used as a common kitchen for 24 apple pickers, who parked their trailers outside. There was a breezeway, sans doors, between our large studio and three small rooms – two toilets and a shower. We found out the hard way one night that a small propane tank heats the kitchen water as well as the shower. They were mutually exclusive.

With three weeks until the real work began, we planned the first of two trips: a four-day hike through the Abel Tasman National Park.

I am convinced that, to experience the beauty and wild nature of New Zealand, one must visit the national parks. With nothing dangerous or scary – unless you’re afraid of possums – the parks offer panoramic views of the blue green ocean foaming over half moon shaped sandy beaches that back up to dense green forests. These sights appear before you over and over again. The hike is a little grueling, depending on how long one desires to hike per day. Up through the forest and down to and across the beaches we hiked and sweated, 40 pounds heavier with our backpacks, without 3G and more aware of ourselves and surroundings. We rewarded ourselves at the end of the evening with a dip in the ocean.

I have to share with you the story of our first night camping. We had taken a beautiful boat ride up to where our hike was to start. The driver shared historical facts and pointed out unique land features along the way. We sat, listening to him and the sound of the boat rise up and splash rhythmically on the water, causing a refreshing mist to land on our sun soaked faces. Paradise!

We were dropped off at a beach, with our sacks, filled with four days of food, sleeping material, and, ok a little wine too.

We hiked around for a while and set up our tent, which happened to be next to two gentlemen – one French and one German. While we were enjoying a snack and the ocean view, we heard a rustling sound in our tent and inside we found a large bird flapping around — did we leave food inside?? I didnt think so…I chased it out and closed up the tent.

After our big day we excited to lay in our tent and listen to the waves as we fell asleep. We did, but something woke Johannes in the middle of the night. Apparently I can sleep through anything…

‘Did you hear that?”
‘No’
‘I think there’s something in our tent’
‘I think it’s probably outside.’
‘…probably’

5 minutes later…
‘I swear there’s something in our tent.’
This conversation happened twice and on the third time I agreed to look for whatever was inside.

So we looked around the tent. Pitch black outside we had a flashlight we waved from edge to edge of our tent. Finally, Johannes found the noisemaker: a mouse. Poor guy flipped out when he realized we were after him and began running around the border our tent. Like a little kid, I shreaked and tried to follow Johannes’ movements with the light as he dove at the mouse with his bare hands. I hung the flashlight from the top of the tent so perhaps we could corner him. As the beam swung around the tent like a strobe light, we stood, bent over bumping into each other and the tent over and over trying to catch this damn mouse. What a scene. Finally, cooking pot in hand, we trapped him underneath and slid him out the door.

We layed in our tent, in and out of sleep, looking forward to enjoying some wine on the porch in the comfort of our doublewide.