New Zealand

We went twice, four years apart, and it felt like two completely different countries. The first time was a summer loop of the South Island with no real itinerary, just the rough plan of getting to Milford Sound within ten days. We made it in nine, one of which we spent hiding from rain in a café in Te Anau, not particularly reluctantly.

The second time was winter, a trip up the North Island for a family wedding in Wellington that turned into a longer road trip because we could not bring ourselves to leave. A kid on skis for the first time, on a hill whose name we could not pronounce for a week. A ferry across Cook Strait in weather that made the crew laugh.

The meat pies are a running joke in our household. We have been home for years and still talk about the one from the bakery in Franz Josef.