When people picture a trip to New Zealand, they see the beaches, the mountains, the road trips and sunsets. And yes, it’s all of that, but what people don’t always talk about is the behind-the-scenes stuff: visas, transport, setting up life somewhere new, and the moments that test you in ways you never expect.
As a Canadian, getting the NZ working holiday visa is truly once in a lifetime, you literally can’t get it again once you’ve used it (trust me, I tried). The process itself is pretty simple: answer a bunch of questions online, pay the fee, and within a week or two (at least in my case), you’ll get an approval email and you’re good to go. When I landed in Auckland, I was fully prepared for them to ask for papers or drill me with questions, but no one did, they pretty much just waved me through (I assume everything was linked online). Still, it’s important to have your documents sorted before you go; don’t risk it.
Getting to New Zealand from Canada is, to put it lightly, far. It’s not just the distance, it’s the mental leap, too. You land on the other side of the world, exhausted and a bit disoriented, and suddenly you’re responsible for everything: getting a phone set up, opening a local bank account, figuring out where to buy groceries, and trying to stay awake through the worst jet lag of your life. It’s overwhelming, but also strangely exciting, because everything feels so new.
For getting around, I relied on the InterCity FlexiPass. It’s basically a bus pass where you buy travel hours and use them as you go. Honestly, it was money so well spent. The app is easy, the drivers were always kind, and you end up meeting other travellers and backpackers on the same route. If you don’t have a car, this is the move, it gives you freedom without the stress of driving on the other side of the road.
And then, there’s travel insurance. Before leaving, everyone says, “Get it, just in case.” You tell yourself you will, almost as a formality. But for me, “just in case” happened. I got really sick, turns out it was E. coli, while I was alone in Wellington, thousands of kilometres from home. I can barely remember how I made it back: Wellington to Auckland, then to Los Angeles, then finally Toronto. When I landed and saw my mom waiting at the airport, I just collapsed into her arms. I was so sick I don’t even remember the next few days; my doctor gave me medicine that basically knocked me out and it took weeks to fully recover. Friends who saw me after said I looked grey (cute). It’s funny now, but it really wasn’t then. Moral of the story: always, always get the insurance.
Most of my NZ trip I was lucky enough to share with one of my best friends, and honestly, I wouldn’t trade that for anything. Traveling with someone you know so well makes you braver, you take more risks, laugh harder, and have someone to hype you up when your confidence dips. You share inside jokes, late-night chats, and experiences you’ll remember forever.
But there were also parts I did solo. And for someone more introverted, it was terrifying. The first night alone felt like the longest night ever. But looking back now, I’m so proud of myself for pushing through. It wasn’t always perfect, some days I felt lonelier than I expected, but I learned that I could rely on myself more than I thought. And as cheesy as it sounds, there’s a kind of confidence you only get by being completely on your own.
Even though my time in New Zealand didn’t end the way I hoped (thanks to getting sick and having to come home early), it still changed me. The people I met were kind and generous, honestly, maybe even friendlier than Canadians. The lifestyle felt calm and happy in a way I’d never quite seen before, and the views… nothing beats them. New Zealand really is magic.
If you ever get the chance to do a working holiday visa, go. Make a pros and cons list, see if it feels right, and don’t let the fear of “what if” stop you. My first visa adventure might not have ended perfectly, but it won’t be my last. And I already know I’ll be back to New Zealand someday to finish what I started, and to see the South Island, which is still on my list.
For now, I’ll leave it here: travel isn’t always perfect, but it’s always worth it. And sometimes, the hardest chapters become the ones you’re proudest of later. More travel stories still to come… stay tuned.
Halfway to Somewhere 