KIWI.

Twelve hours in the air with a pitstop in Honolulu was definitely doable. It was a terrific trek across the North Pacific with the aid of movies, podcasts, music, and a lovely Hawaiian aircrew. The Kiwis welcomed me with such kindness, and getting through customs was a breeze. They are relatively particular about bringing foreign foliage onto the island, so I received a complimentary shoe shining. I do not want to be the one to bring the infamous wine louse phylloxera to the country. I was going on twenty-some hours straight, so I opted for a taxi to downtown Auckland. I immediately noticed how clean, organized, and uniform the highways into the city were. There were no homeless encampments below the onramps. We were also driving on the other side of the roadway. I've got a feeling we're not in Kanas anymore, and I knew immediately there was some culture shock to overcome.

As the sun ascended, I laced up my running shoes and set out for some morning cardio. The downtown district was desolate upon my departure. I found a trail along the bay and followed it until fatigue started setting in. Rather than retrace my steps, I cut through the lovely local neighborhoods. It was shocking to see how clean the sidewalks and trails were. I even saw some tourists getting shamed for littering. Perhaps public shaming has its perks. After a quick dip in the hotel pool, I ventured across town to the local skate shop. Just like that, I had a new Santa Cruz cruiser and a pair of Lakai's. The bagged-up boarder is back, baby, you betta believe it! Feeling fresh to death, I continued my exploration of Auckland. Thanks to guidance from the locals, I found the best places to hang out. Between running and boarding, I traveled roughly forty-eight kilometers (thirty miles) throughout the city. Needless to say, I was excited to be in this foreign land.

My few days in Auckland were sweet as! True to that typical Tom, I traveled to all the terrific things around town. Although I explored many coffee shops, bars, restaurants, parks, and hangout spots, much more is still waiting to be discovered. This city is seriously spectacular, and I did not have a bad interaction with a single Kiwi. The hospitality I received was genuinely shocking. It could be the vibe I bring into any situation or that I am clearly a foreigner. Regardless, I am stoked about this country so far. My final night in town was undoubtedly the cherry on top. Naturally, I gravitated toward Auckland's creative heart, also known as St. Kevin's Arcade. This beautiful batiment is filled with restaurants, bars, shops, and entertainment. This magical location is situated between K-road and Myers Park, making it a bustling center of activity. People of all ages were out in full force enjoying the festivities. I opted to post up at The Whammy Bar, which was hosting a comedy night. Being an avid fan of stand-up comedy, it was the perfect place for me that evening. Those Kiwis are quite humorous, I was laughing my ass off all night.

Auckland was awesome, but the journey is only beginning. It was shockingly simple to rent a car in NZ. One of the cheapest vehicles up for grabs was the American-made Ford Ranger. Just like that, Tom from Texas is trucking around town. Fucking classic American. Driving on the other of the road is quite a mindfuck. My brain successfully rewired itself after getting out of the Auckland traffic rush. With the city in my rearview, I plunged into the farmlands. I was happy to be surrounded by rolling hills full of cows, goats, sheep, corn, and various other crops. Funny enough, the landscape was reminiscent of Sonoma County. My first stop was in the quaint town of Thames. I skated the main strip for coffee and something to fill my belly. Having been some time since I've been in a commonwealth country, the fish and chips joint made sense to me. While grubbing down, a local lad approached me with a proposition. He wanted to sell me some marijuana. It was only days ago that I was in the Kush Kingdom of the world. Paying absurd prices for subpar bud is not how I roll, so I politely declined.

Almost immediately after you pass Thames, the twisting and turning begins. Windows down and music blasting, I was whipping and winding along the coast. It was not long before the climb started and the scenery changed into a tropical forest. I was seriously stunned at how high the speed limit was for such small lanes and tight corners. The locals navigated it flawlessly, and I took full advantage of my speed allowance. It had been ages since I drove, and it was both challenging and exhilarating. That straight shot on I-80 that I had done so many times seems rather dull compared to this rambunctious route. You already know I was searching for the oyster joint. Just off Highway 25 outside of Coromandel, I found what I so desired. Overlooking the bay, I slurped up a dozen oysters in a beached boat remodeled for a superb dining experience. There were a few seagulls that I fended off. These mollusks were so buttery and delicious that I didn't even mind their attempts of theft.

Concluding my tasty ocean snack, I found my sleeping spot for the evening in the tiny town of Coromandel. Once situated, I had just enough time to partake in some physical fitness before the sun retreated beyond the horizon. It started to sprinkle at the moment of my departure, which only aided me in my adventure. A captivating trail just outside of town took me to the local viewpoint. Soaking wet, wearing nothing but short shorts, out of breath, and immersed in tropical foliage, I had a flashback to a past life. Several centuries ago, when I was a warrior scout for the Te Patukirikiri tribe, this was one of my common treks. This was a powerful realization that ferociously fueled my return to the motel. After my shower, I cracked a beer and found a spot to watch the finale of the setting sun. Slowly but surely, the squad started accumulating. Belgium, Canada, Germany, France, and the Netherlands all joined me at the table for a night of conversation.

After a successful night of global politics, I was up early for the next destination awaited. While driving to Hot Water Beach, I stopped at an overlook and was promptly greeted by Ieko, the German guy from the previous night. With this funny coincidence, we decided to become travel companions. When we arrived at the beach, I embarked on a run. If you give me a beach, there is no doubt I will run on it. After my cardiovascular endeavor, you already know I dove into that salty salty ocean. Although I am an earthbender, the ocean always soothes my soul. After a beaching afternoon, we met up with our Belgian homie in Whangamatā for a coffee and beer. Sadly, we were continuing south, and we had to bid farewell. I will see you in Belgian Johannes! It did not take long for Ieko and me to arrive in Tauranga. Tired from a day of adventure, we decided to relax at the hostel. After a few beers, we encountered some young German hitchhikers. Having just graduated high school, these boys were on a shoestring budget. Naturally, we offered them access to our beer stash and spent the evening discussing adventures.

Throughout my travels, I have been incredibly blessed with kindness from random strangers. Without a second thought, I offered to drive the boys further south. Before departing Tauranga, we had to climb the mountain overlooking the city. Mount Maunganui was a beast, but I can conquer anything set before me. In fact, several of us decided to run up the mountain for a bit of morning cardio. Standing atop the outlook, I saw a sweeping panorama of the coast I had just driven along. This viewpoint gave me a true sense of the distance previously ventured. After the mountain madness, we returned to the city, which was absolutely packed. Sunday morning vibes were going wild in Tauranga. There were plenty of morning mountain meanderers, a beach volleyball tournament, some local food festival, and seemingly everything else in between. Our next destination was just a short distance from the city.

The Kaitate Waterfall might be my favorite find of the trip. It was relatively devoid of people and was definitely more of a locals hang. We found a swimming spot beside the waterfall with a crazy cliff jump. Several cold plunges later, it is safe to say we were satisfied with our discovery. Feeling rejuvenated, it was time for the road trip to Rotorua. I left the boys in control of the aux and was introduced to some fire German music. After checking into the hostel, I ventured off on my own for some errands and exploration. This city is known for its geothermal activity. Much of my evening was spent at the public hot springs, soaking my feet. After an enlightening chat with a wise local, I had my plans for the next day. When I returned to the hostel, the German lads had whipped up a delicious dinner for us. After some grubbing and conversing, we decided on an early bedtime.

I was up early the next day and started exploring the rest of the town on my board. Naturally, my morning destination was a coffee spot in the heart of Rotorua. Whenever I order a double shot, the barista is confounded with my order. Espresso culture seems to be nonexistent in Middle Earth. After numerous unsatisfying shots, I opted for the Long Black (the New Zealand equivalent to the Americano). After curating some caffeine, I met with Ieko for an afternoon adventure. We took the gondolas to the top of Mount Ngongotaha. There was a boutique tasting room atop the outlook. Without hesitation, we opted for an afternoon wine tasting. The head winemaker arrived and seemed delighted to discuss the wine industry in the area. He only had wonderful things to say about the winery I would soon work for. After a quick hike, my next destination was the famous Polynesian Spa. I was in heaven with the natural hot springs. Relaxing my body before a laborious harvest was a necessity.

My return to the hostel was quite joyous. The UN meeting had already begun. The table that night was occupied by Germans, Danes, French, Italians, Lithuanians, and, as always, The States (aka me). Per usual, I gravitated towards the Frenchie, and we traded our languages all night. It was another prolonged night of discussion. Walking the empty streets at night always feels familiar, whether in my hometown or on the other side of the globe. With only a few hours of sleep, I hopped into my truck and headed towards Taupō. This place is renowned for having New Zealand's largest lake, which is truly breathtaking. Walkers, runners, bikers, boarders, swimmers, kayakers, picnic goers, sailboats, and parasols all greeted me as I ran along Lake Taupō. For a Tuesday afternoon, things were popping off. It was the hottest day of the trip, and diving into that crystal-clean lake was rejuvenating. Next on the list was to check into the hostel and run a few errands. I had earned a midday snack, so I found a beerhall and enjoyed some bangers and mash. A few local brews put me in the mood to be a beach bum. Admittedly, I have become three shades darker since my arrival in NZ. Even slathered with SPF 50, I was a toasty boy. After several hours at the beach, I returned to the hostel and got straight to writing. My socialization meter was drastically low, and calling it an early night was effortless.

One last road trip, and I was in Napier. This iconic city will be my home for the next several months. It is the nexus of the largest wool producer in the southern hemisphere. This region of Hawkes Bay is the second largest wine producer in the country. Also known as the Art Deco capital of the world, I am thrilled to call it my stomping grounds. My winery is located just outside of the city. Čuvar Winery was kind enough to house and employ me for my time in the down under. The big boss is a New Zealand wine legend, often called an industry pioneer. Old Georgie is starting fresh with a new site and label. Having only possessed this site for two years, it is very much in the beginning phases. Our team comes from all around the world, just as I like it. Initial vibes all point to a successful season. Just like that, my third harvest begins. Cover me boys, I'm going in!