Why New Zealand?

Everywhere I go in New Zealand I am asked the same few questions over and over again as a function of not sounding quite like a Kiwi. "Where's your accent from?" "What do you do?" "How long are you down for?" Canada. Surf. Forever. Or something like that. But the king FAQ (an acronym begging to be said five times fast) is

"Why New Zealand?"

Sometimes saying "because I love it" satisfies people. It seems to make them all squishy inside. For variety sometimes I say, "I've spent a lot of time here over the years and I love surfing and I have friends and family here so I figured why not".

Occasionally such general answers are not enough. They certainly did not work for the couple from the Waihi SPCA who, after listening to my spiel on the dunes at Whangamata recently, turned to me and said, point blank, "Oh come on! give us the real story!". Bloody hell. Clearing my throat for the long haul, I began.

"Well, it all begins like so many tales ..."
"Let me guess", said the man, "it had two legs!"
"THE END!" I exclaimed. At this point the missus leaned in a little closer.
"And?! And?!" You could almost hear the wedding bells in her tone. The kids. The beach house. The ...
"Oh, no, unfortunately that turned to custard, as you say. But I kept surfing, and I kept New Zealand!"
They loved it. They ate it up. I'm thinking of going on tour with that line.
"GOOD ON YOU!" they offered up in unison. Which, in New Zealand, is the equivalent of receiving the largest gold star or slap on the back you can imagine. And I'll take it!

The Meeting Point (Cape Reinga)

A sacred spot of ocean where the Tasman and the Pacific become one, but not without a fight! "Antipathy, dissimilarity of views, hate, contempt, can accompany true love" -- Marshall McLuhan.

It's true though. If someone had come to me years ago and said "Junior Kinipela, in x years you will be a surfer living in New Zealand!" I would have said get lost, what are you talking about, and I would have gone back to my dance studio or falling asleep in the library. I consider myself to have been very lucky, because if it weren't for meeting a Kiwi bloke in Toronto, and accepting his totally mental, repeated invitations to come down to New Zealand in the first place, I wouldn't be here at all. Well, I might have gone to New Zealand via Australia and paid a shitload of cash to see dolphins or something like that in the Bay of Yawns like everybody else. But likely that would have been it.

My first and true Kiwi home: Whangamata (Coromandel Peninsula)

Instead, I got a crash course on what it means to live the Kiwi life. Three hours after landing at the tin shed known as the Auckland Airport, I was in the ocean at Whangamata learning to dive UNDER the waves in what was, for me, tsunami conditions. Thank God for my quick-thinking Kiwi bloke who had no idea my lack of ocean education! Anyway, from that point on I was chucked into every conceivable water scenario and was taught to survive. Plus, I've made loads of new friends, and made real, unbreakable bonds with members of my "long lost" and "long distance" family in the Land of the Long White Cloud!

Who can argue with environmental conditions like these? Rarawa Beach, Far North, NZ

Now, six years later, I have travelled from Cape Reinga to Invercargill, from Raglan to Gisborne, Greymouth to Christchurch, been down every metal road in Northland and the East Coast looking for surf, sometimes hitting a sweet spot.

Whananaki South, Far North, NZ ... a sweet, sweet spot with a HORRIFIC metal road!

Whananaki South to Whananaki North: another horrifying metal road moment brought to you by Land Transport NZ

The Kiwi bloke and I never quite got around to getting it together, but that's life. And so, when next I'm asked, "Why New Zealand?", I will confidently declare: "Love". Full stop, no qualifiers. Because God knows it's the greatest thing, and you never know what it will bring you!