New Zealand – the final one #105

Last updated on März 11, 2026

28th of October 2025 to 4th of March 2026

Approximate reading time: 10 minutes

Lets get it started

Here we are — more than three years after I first arrived in New Zealand — writing the final update from the very island I called home for so long.

And ironically, I’m writing it from a warm house on the Sunshine Coast in Canada, in Madeira Park. Surrounded by different nature. A different ocean. Different people. And, in many ways, a slightly different version of me.

It feels strange, and a little poetic, to write the last update about Wānaka and this incredible chapter of my life from the other side of the Pacific. But here we are.

What a ride it has been. An adventure. A journey. A summer (or rather… many summers) that now sits beautifully in the rear-view mirror.

So let’s take a moment to look back at what lies behind us — the people, the places, the stories.
And then, just as importantly, let’s take a curious little peek at what might lie ahead.

Because if the last three years have taught me anything, it’s this: the best chapters are often the ones you never planned.

Wanaka – a summer tale

So we went back to Wānaka after deciding to go on a long road trip, originally planning to end up somewhere around the Motueka area for the summer season. The idea was simple: I would guide canyoning trips, and Sammy would hopefully find a design job.

But sometimes plans have a life of their own.

Somewhere along the way we both realised that it just didn’t quite feel right. There wasn’t anything specifically wrong — it simply didn’t feel like the place we were meant to be at that moment. So after a short but honest conversation, we decided to turn around.

Back to the roots. Back to Wānaka.

And as it turned out, it was the right decision.

Wānaka welcomed us back with open arms. I was lucky enough to get my job at Wastebusters back, and Sammy found work as a barista at the camp in Hāwea. Not long after, we even managed to find a flat. Things seemed to fall into place again, and life felt surprisingly easy for a while.

But as life likes to remind us every now and then — nothing stays still for too long.

Not long after we moved in, we found out that the landlord was planning to move out and rent the entire house to a single tenant. Which meant we had to start looking for a new place again. Just as we were settling back into life in Wānaka, things shifted once more.

Since we couldn’t find a place that worked for both of us, we decided to get a little creative. I managed to find a room in Wānaka, while Sammy was able to rent a small but very cute caravan at the camp where she was working — luckily for a fairly affordable price.

It wasn’t exactly the setup we had imagined, but somehow it worked.

During that time we also made another decision together. For now, we decided to put my residency plans aside and instead focus on saving money for future travels. After everything that had happened with immigration over the past years, it felt like the right thing to do — at least for the moment.

And despite the slightly chaotic living arrangements, we still got to enjoy a proper Wānaka summer.

We caught up with friends, went on small and bigger hiking missions, tried our luck fishing every now and then, and sometimes simply sat by the lake with a box of fish and chips, watching the sun go down and appreciating the moment.

Those simple moments turned out to be some of the most beautiful ones.

But as it so often happens, plans changed again.

Since we had decided to pause the residency plans — partly for financial reasons and partly because of the long and frustrating road I had already experienced with immigration — I chose to take another opportunity that had been waiting for me: activating my Canadian working holiday visa.

Sammy, on the other hand, decided that Canada wasn’t quite her dream destination — at least not yet. Europe had always been much higher on her list. She was excited to explore different countries, cultures and landscapes, and also to visit her good friend Tara, who originally comes from New Zealand but moved to Germany a while ago.

And so, after all the twists and turns that had brought us back together to Wānaka, life surprised us again: for now, our travels would take us in different directions.

Leaving Wānaka — and especially saying goodbye to Sammy and many of the friends we had made there — was a very hard pill to swallow. This summer had turned out to be something truly special. It was filled with beautiful moments, deep conversations, friendships, understanding, forgiveness and patience.

In many ways, it was simply a summer of being human.

And I’m sure that at some point in the future we will return. Maybe for a pint at Woodys, a stroll along the lake with fish and chips in hand, a browse through Wastebusters, or breakfast at Kai Whakapai.

For now, Wānaka and its wonderful people will live on in my memories, in my heart and somewhere deep in my soul.

And both Sammy and I are incredibly grateful that we listened to our gut feeling and came back here when we did.

Sometimes, gut feeling is all there is — and sometimes, it leads you exactly where you’re meant to be.

New Zealand – a look back

While sitting here in a hostel in Vancouver, ready for a new adventure, new people, new experiences—and maybe even a new me — I find myself reflecting on how it all began. Where it all began. How, after more than three incredible years in New Zealand, surrounded by breathtaking nature and amazing people, I ended up here, without a plan, without a map, with being in this weird transition zone of „What the fuck is happening?“. How I laughed, how I cried (lots and lots and lots folks), and how my heart grew in ways I never imagined.

I think it all traces back to the day I went to Gymnasium in Germany (kind of like high school). I chose to sit next to this brilliant guy, Hendrik . Years of learning together, of friendship, and then—life happened—we drifted apart. Years later, Hendrik invited me to his wedding. I was thrilled and completely surprised. Bachelor party included. And that’s where I met his best man, Robert, who suggested… adventure. Fun. And yes, canyoning—something I had never done before.

We went. It was thrilling, different, and special. I was hooked. I decided to learn the skills—not to guide others, but so I could confidently explore on my own. And so, I became a Canyoning Guide.

While working for the huge corporate world at Zeiss, earning a paycheck, I realized I was missing something: adventure, spontaneity, pure fun. I took a leap, went freelance in Bavaria, and for the winter… I had no plan. But a conversation with a colleague, Tanja, changed everything. She said, “Just go to New Zealand. They might be looking for guides for the summer.”

A few applications, a few calls, and suddenly, four weeks later, I was on a plane to New Zealand—with a visa, zero plan (well maybe a time plan), and a heart full of excitement. The plan was six months (hahaha!). Just a summer. Then back to Germany.

And now, here I am in Vancouver, after more than three unforgettable years in New Zealand. Three years of wild nature, endless laughter, new challenges, new friendships, ups and downs, doubts, achievements, and a new version of me.

Summarizing all of it properly would take a book (I do not think about a second one…yet), but wow—it has been an absolute blast.

I never thought I’d find myself tangled in immigration and employer challenges, almost facing deportation.

I never imagined working in so many different fields in such a short time — from canyoning to climbing, lumberjacking, recycling, and everything in between—always learning, always growing.

I never expected to meet the people I met, who became my international family and who got special spots in my heart – I have lost the key and do not think about looking for it.

I never imagined I could cry this much over leaving a place, leaving people, leaving pieces of myself behind.

I never thought, despite setbacks and doubts, I’d still find the courage to keep going, to believe, and to move forward even without a clear plan. To keep hoping and to keep fighting for what I think is worth the fight, worth the struggles, worth the doubt.

I never thought I could forgive—myself, others, the mistakes, the chaos—and still find peace in the beautiful reality of being human.

I never thought I could become this version of myself—the one I am now. Humble (most of the time), empathetic, caring, and learning to navigate life even without a proper plan, while missing so many incredible people along the way.

I never imagined my heart could break so much leaving behind New Zealand and its people.

I never thought six months could turn into more than three years of life, love, laughter, and this insanely unique, absolutely mind-blowing and fucking amazing adventure called New Zealand.

No words can capture this cocktail of emotions. No words can express my gratitude—for the land, the people, and the experiences that shaped me.

Kia kaha, New Zealand. You have my heart, my soul, and you have challenged me beyond anything I could have imagined.

I never thought I would or could leave… and yet, here I am—forever changed, forever grateful, and forever in love with Aotearoa, its nature and more than ever, its people.

What else to say?

While I’m now sitting here in Canada, on the Sunshine Coast in Madeira Park, the rain is gently falling outside. Nature looks different. The air smells different. The view is different.

The language, however, is the same.

And my current hosts, Gayle and Lee, are two truly beautiful human beings.

At the moment I’m doing a so-called Workaway experience, something quite similar to WWOOFing. It means I help out for about four to five hours a day, five days a week, in exchange for accommodation and food. While there’s no money involved, it’s actually a wonderful way to arrive in a new place. It allows you to connect with locals from the very beginning and experience a place not just as a traveller passing through, but as someone who gets a small glimpse into the everyday rhythm of local life.

And so far, it has been an absolutely wonderful experience.

But if I’m honest — there is also grief.

I feel deeply sad that New Zealand, and my international family there, are now so far away. Leaving was not an easy decision. In fact, it was one of the hardest decisions I have made in a long time. And committing to that decision — actually stepping onto that plane that flew out of Auckland — was even harder.

Leaving my friends behind. Leaving Sammy behind.

There were many, many, many tears during those final days in Wānaka.

Tears of pain.
Tears of “I want to stay… maybe I should stay.”
And tears of not knowing if — or when — I might see all those beautiful people again.

But I know those tears will eventually turn into something beautiful, just like they always do.

Because tears like these usually mean that something truly special has happened.

And when something that special enters your life, it never really leaves. It simply becomes a part of you — something that stays quietly in your heart forever.

Your DingyInternational

Felix