Scotty Stevenson: New Zealand – domestic travel in the place we call home

The first reply was a picture of a young girl running on a dark sand beach in the late afternoon sun. The tide has retreated into the bay, promising to return at some later time; clouds like cobwebs hang in an endless blue void. In the distance, a boulder breakwater shines against the hazy line of the horizon. It is Pohara Beach, in Golden Bay, where I am lucky enough to holiday with family. The tweet reads, “You know the reason.”

It ends with a loveheart.

It was May 4, which feels like a year ago or yesterday depending on your perspective. In the current phrasing we, as a country, were a week into level 3 of the Government’s Covid-19 response. There was some hope that soon we would be able to get back on track, or at least get our children out of the house. But there was also a distinct funk. You could feel it, although it would be foolhardy to attempt to articulate it for all. For me, it was this: I felt disconnected, cut off, marooned. I was sure that, like me, others pined for a little piece of New Zealand – a drive, a dive, a hike, a bike, a walk, a swim, a trek, a trip, a run in the hills – and I wondered where that might be and why.

And so, I sent a tweet: “What is the first NZ destination you will go to when you can? Post a pic and a reason.”

A quick twitter conversation starter:

What is the first NZ destination you will go to when you can? Post a pic and a reason.

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