New Zealand (weekly) Update #104

Last updated on Oktober 27, 2025

18th of September 2025 to 27th of October 2025

Approximate reading time: 15-20 minutes

Lets get it started

Our road trip has come to an end. We’ve been on the road — living out of the car, without a proper home or steady job — for six weeks. Limited space, limited comfort, but full of freedom, adventure, and the constant uncertainty of where we’d end up or sleep the next night.

Our journey took us all across the South Island of New Zealand. Comparing the odometer before and after was pretty stunning — 5,000 kilometres! That’s a lot of road, a lot of driving, and a lot of petrol. But it’s also a lot of new adventures, impressions, places, and memories gathered along the way.

Now I’m sitting in Hawea — a small town close to Wanaka — back working at Wastebusters as a recycling processor (aka “recycling dawg”), and we’re about to move into our new flat in Albert Town (halfway between Wanaka and Hawea). And honestly, none of this was part of the plan when we left Wanaka a few weeks ago. We had sold most of our things, dropped off the rest at Wastebusters, and said goodbye to everyone, everything, and to Wanaka itself. Goodbye — and probably farewell — since we didn’t intend to return anytime soon.

And yet, here I am. It’s raining outside — as it has been all day — and I’m more than grateful for a hot shower, a warm fireplace, and a very excited Huntaway curled up beside me. I find myself reflecting on the past few weeks, the adventures we’ve had, the changes in plans, and the sometimes surprising reality of how life unfolds.

The road along New Zealand

Writing everything about our road trip would easily fill several pages — and probably take both you and me quite some reading time. But of course, I still want to share what we’ve been up to since my last blog entry, and since we hit the road again.

After leaving Hokitika behind, we made our way along Arthur’s Pass — a stunning area full of mountains, steep elevation, and breathtaking scenery. We decided to hike Avalanche Peak, a steep and challenging track I had attempted two years ago but couldn’t finish at the time due to poor visibility. It’s a serious hike, especially near the top, with narrow ridgelines and hundreds of meters dropping off on either side — not a place to take chances.

This time, we checked in with the DOC (Department of Conservation) staff to get reliable information about weather and track conditions. The verdict: a lot of snow, especially near the summit — meaning we might not make it all the way up. However, we managed to complete most of the hike and were rewarded with stunning views over Arthur’s Pass under clear blue skies and sunshine. We even enjoyed some hot tea surrounded by snow — a simple but perfect moment.

Later, we headed to Christchurch, where we stayed for a couple of nights at Sammy’s uncle’s house while he was away on holiday — so we had the place to ourselves. A warm and cozy bed, a comfortable mattress, and a hot shower… it’s the simple things you start to deeply appreciate when living on the road. In Christchurch, we spent half a day exploring the beautiful botanical gardens, treated ourselves to some delicious ice cream, and then continued north to Hanmer Springs, famous for its hot pools and stunning surrounding nature. Since the weather was still quite chilly, we spent a relaxing afternoon soaking in the hot pools, followed by some delicious cheeseburgers and a free campsite right in the middle of Hanmer Springs — basically a carpark with two designated spots for non-self-contained vehicles.

The next day, we drove all the way up to Motueka, as I had arranged to meet in person with Abel Tasman Canyons — the company I was supposed to work with for the entire summer season. We had planned a personal meeting to see how things were going. Upon arriving in Motueka, we decided to book a night at a local hostel. But soon after checking in, we realized that some of the long-term guests were acting quite strange, and the overall atmosphere felt tense and uncomfortable. Having stayed in many hostels over the years, this was actually the first time I didn’t feel safe. So around 9 p.m., we packed our stuff and left, spending the night instead at a nearby campground.

After my meeting with the canyoning company, we agreed to have a day together in the canyon later that week. In the meantime, Sammy and I decided to take it easy in Motueka and try to settle into our “new area.” But for some reason, we both felt off — tired, uneasy, and strangely disconnected from the place. Looking back, I still can’t quite explain why, but the feeling stayed with us for days. Even spending a day out in the canyon over the weekend didn’t change much.

The canyon itself — Torrent River — was incredible. They even use a water taxi for access! The canyon had everything: slides, jumps, rappels, deep pools to swim in, and beautiful native forest all around. But despite the great conditions and the excitement I’d normally feel, I just didn’t feel it this time. No spark, no motivation, no joy. That was completely new for me — canyoning has always lifted my spirits. Not this time.

So we sat down to talk about our options, plans, and next steps. It took us less than five minutes to realize that we didn’t want to spend the summer in Motueka — even though it had been our plan for weeks. Both of us felt strongly that we wanted to go back to Wanaka.

The very next day, while we were on our way to one of New Zealand’s Great Walks — the Abel Tasman Coast Track — I got a call from the canyoning company offering me the job. But since I hadn’t felt any real connection or excitement for days, I decided to decline the offer. They weren’t too happy about it, which I can understand. I was told that I shouldn’t base such a decision solely on my feelings. But in my opinion, that’s absolutely wrong.

If my gut feeling says no — it’s a no. If it says yes — it’s a “hell yes.” I’ve learned not to doubt my intuition anymore, even if “facts” might suggest otherwise. When in doubt, my gut is my compass. And looking back now, I’m still very happy with that decision.

Sure, I’m not the cool, sporty, outgoing canyoning guide this summer — but instead a recycling processor at Wastebusters. And honestly, I enjoy it. The team is amazing, the support is genuine, and people truly care about what they do. There’s purpose and meaning in this work, and I’m proud to be part of it.

I might not be working as an optometrist earning $100,000 a year, but I’m proud of what I do, why I do it, and who I do it with. That’s what matters right now. I’m not ashamed to be working in the recycling sector — sometimes standing knee-deep in recyclables, hand-sorting materials, and doing my best to reduce what ends up in landfill.

After declining the job, we made our way to the start of the Abel Tasman Coast Track, one of New Zealand’s Great Walks — usually completed in three to five days. We decided to do it in reverse, starting from Wainui Bay and finishing in Marahau. Backpacks ready, following the coastline.

The track is a steady rhythm of ups and downs, leading through stunning bays, sandy stretches, open grasslands, and lush bushwalks. It also includes a few tricky water crossings, one of which can only be done safely at low tide. Timing is everything there — unless you’re keen on swimming across the ocean.

Our first night was spent at Awaroa Campsite, but reaching it turned into a small adventure of its own. We had to wait until around 7 p.m. for the tide to drop enough for a safe crossing. Even then, finding our way through shifting sandbanks and a flowing river proved difficult. The sun was setting, daylight fading quickly, and we found ourselves wading through knee-deep water, searching for the right path. Eventually, we made it safely across and reached the hut — just as darkness fully set in.

The next day took us again through forests, along golden beaches, and across rolling hills — blessed with sunshine, great weather, and plenty of cheeky weka sneaking around our packs. Our destination for the day was Torrent Bay, another section that requires low tide to cross. Unfortunately, we missed the low tide window that afternoon, so we pitched our tent nearby, cooked our outdoor dinner, and enjoyed a quiet evening by the water.

We fell asleep early and woke around 6:30 a.m. to a full bird chorus — dozens of native birds singing, shouting, and calling in what felt like a competition for who could be the loudest. It was so intense it felt almost surreal, like being high while someone turned the volume all the way up. And then, suddenly, silence again.

With the tide low, we made the final push back to Marahau — over 60 kilometres in just two and a half days. By the time we arrived, we were hungry for burgers, thirsty for a cold beer, and thrilled to have another adventure crossed off the list.

As we walked, we talked a lot about our decision to return to Wanaka, and also about Canada — and the strange pressure that destination seemed to carry for both of us. Oddly enough, we didn’t feel genuinely excited about it anymore, even though going to Canada had been my “dream” for years.

I think that feeling came from something deeper — from back in 2020, when I was supposed to go. Just two weeks before my planned departure (after I had already quit my job and given up my flat), COVID hit, and everything was cancelled. Ever since then, I’ve felt like Canada was “taken away” from me — and that I had to do it someday to make up for that loss. But in truth, that’s just a narrative I built for myself. Maybe Canada wasn’t meant to happen back then — or maybe not at all.

Once we decided to let go of Canada and release that pressure, things started to fall into place naturally. The next morning, still sore but content, I received a message from my brother in Germany: he’s getting married in the summer of 2026 and wants me to come to Corsica to celebrate with him.

And just like that, my gut feeling kicked in again — fuck yeah! Of course I’m going. Fuck Canada — go Europe! Since I had already made peace with not going to Canada, saying yes to my brother’s wedding was one of the easiest decisions of my life.

And so the decision was made — we started making our way slowly back to Wanaka, travelling down the West Coast of the South Island. We visited the famous Pancake Rocks, wandered through lush, rain-soaked bush, walked along long stretches of wild, sandy beaches, and felt more and more excitement building at the thought of coming home. Coming back to Wanaka.

Once again, the universe seemed to support our decision. As we made our way south, stopping here and there for overnight stays, everything started to fall into place. Sammy’s cousin offered us a dog-sitting opportunity, an old colleague of mine offered me her car for a very affordable price (and it’s a yellow Honda Logo — I mean, it’s yellow!), and we even found a flat we’ll soon be moving into. On top of that, I’ve already got my old job back.

It all just clicked. The community we had been searching for was here all along — already waiting for us. And this community supports us, welcomes us back, and is genuinely happy to have us return with our energy, excitement, and commitment to stay for the summer.

A summer in Wanaka — surrounded by friends, familiar faces, and a community that feels like home.

Immigration is „calling“ again

On my very first day back in Wanaka, I opened my inbox and saw an email from Immigration New Zealand (INZ). The subject line: “Final decision on your request for reconsideration.”

This email referred to my Special Direction request under Section 11 of the Immigration Act 2009, where I had asked the Minister of Immigration to intervene and grant me residency — because I still firmly believe, based on clear facts and law, that my previous residency application was wrongly declined.

Here’s what happened:

INZ rejected my second residency application on the grounds that, at the time I applied, I was supposedly no longer working for an accredited employer. My employer — a fully accredited company — had amalgamated (merged) with another company. Immigration interpreted that merger to mean that the original company “no longer existed,” and therefore, that I was in breach of my visa conditions.

This decision was both shocking and confusing. I hadn’t even been informed of the amalgamation, and it took me some research to understand what had happened. But what I found was crystal clear — the law itself already provides for such a situation.

Under Section 219 of the Companies Act 1993, when two or more companies amalgamate, the resulting new company automatically assumes all property, rights, powers, and obligations of the original entities. This means that accreditation, being a legal right and status held by the former company, transfers automatically to the new one. In simple terms: the new company inherits everything — including its accreditation status and all employer obligations to employees.

So, based on established company law, I was never in breach of my visa conditions. Immigration New Zealand had declined my residency on the wrong grounds. My lawyer and I explained this to them multiple times — citing the Companies Act 1993 — but INZ refused to acknowledge it.

That’s why I applied for reconsideration under Section 11 of the Immigration Act 2009, which gives the Minister of Immigration the power to make a “Special Direction.”

Section 11 allows the Minister to grant exemptions or make exceptions in individual cases where the normal immigration rules lead to an unjust or unintended outcome.
It exists precisely for cases like mine — where a rigid interpretation of policy results in unfairness or an error in applying the law.

However, when I opened the email that morning, my heart sank again. My Section 11 request was declined. The letter stated that the Minister (or their delegate) did “not feel prepared to intervene” and instead suggested that I apply again under the Skilled Migrant Category.

That statement hit hard — and honestly, it felt like a bad joke.
After two failed residency applications — both derailed by factors completely beyond my control — I was told to simply “try again.”

At that point, I decided to take another route. I drafted a personal letter to both the Minister of Immigration and the Associate Minister of Immigration, detailing everything once again — the facts, the laws, and the systemic issues. I explained how Immigration New Zealand had ignored the Companies Act, failed to interpret Section 11 correctly, and overlooked the serious implications their actions have for migrant workers on Accredited Employer Work Visas when companies merge, are sold, or restructure.

I sent that letter on Monday evening, outlining the relevant sections of law and the broader systemic issue. By the next morning, I received confirmation that it had been officially received.

Then, just two days later, while sitting in the recycling truck on a Wednesday morning doing pickups, I opened a newspaper — and there it was: an article about systemic problems within Immigration New Zealand’s handling of Accredited Employer Work Visa cases. It specifically mentioned how business restructures and sales can impact accreditation and affect migrant workers’ visa status.

The timing couldn’t have been more striking — just two days after I had sent my letter outlining that exact issue to the Minister. I couldn’t help but wonder: was this just a coincidence, or did my letter finally reach someone who realized that something has been seriously wrong all along?

Of course, I’m cautious with hope. I don’t expect Immigration to suddenly reverse their decision, apologize, and grant me residency (even though, by law and fairness, they should). But the fact that this issue — my issue — was being publicly acknowledged so soon after I raised it with the Minister is more than coincidence. It’s a clear correlation, and maybe, just maybe, a sign that the system is finally being forced to confront the very problem that has cost me my residency.

For now, I’m still waiting for a response from the Associate Minister of Immigration. But at least there’s movement — and a glimmer of validation that the fight I’ve been fighting might actually lead to some change.

What else to say?

Back to the familiar, surrounded by the old, yet touched by something new. Back to my old job, back among friends, and back to a rhythm that feels both unchanged and completely transformed. I feel grounded again — excited, comfortable, safe — and yes, a little tired after weeks on the road. Weeks filled with long drives, endless beauty, adventure, and countless moments that reminded us why we came to New Zealand in the first place.

We spent a lot — on food, petrol, and the occasional cheeseburger and beer (or two). But every dollar was worth it. Every kilometre, every stop, every night on the road was necessary. We needed to leave to understand why we wanted to return. We needed distance to see what we truly missed, what we needed, and where we belonged. We had to say goodbye in order to say hello again — and to hear “welcome back.”

Now that I’m here, I couldn’t be happier with our decision to return. Looking back, the visa struggles, the endless back-and-forth with Immigration New Zealand, the feeling of being powerless — all of it drained so much of my energy and hope. It consumed months of my life that could have been filled with joy, connection, and growth.

And so, I’ll say it openly: I want my summer back.
I want my energy back. My lightness. My sense of belonging.

New Zealand — after everything, I think you kind of owe me a summer. A fresh start. A chance to rebuild the life I’ve fought so hard to stay for.

Your DingyInternational
Felix