Trip Report: Ultimate New Zealand - April 2025

April 30th: Queenstown, Arrowtown, Lake Wakatipu

We kicked things off this morning in Queenstown, nestled on the shores of Lake Wakatipu and flanked by the aptly named Remarkables mountain range. I’m not sure if it’s the clatter of gear being unpacked or the unique mixture of jet lag and caffeine, but there’s something electric about the first day of a photography workshop!

Will Patino and I gave an orientation for the exciting trip ahead, and then we rolled into Arrowtown, an old gold mining town known for its fiery display of autumn colors. Trees exploded in bursts of crimson, amber, and gold, blanketing the slopes in a riot of color. The Japanese maples and Lombardy poplars were in peak form with vivid tones that looked unreal. Mother nature cranked up those vibrancy and saturation sliders just for us!

From Arrowtown, we drove north along the serpentine shoreline of Lake Wakatipu. Carved by glaciers and shaped like a lightning bolt, the lake is New Zealand’s third-largest and holds a mythical heartbeat. According to Māori legend, a sleeping giant named Matau lies at the bottom of the lake, and his slow breathing causes the water to rise and fall. Science tells us it’s a natural seiche (a standing wave in an enclosed body of water), but the legend fascinates me because every part of New Zealand's landscape has a story that's respected by its inhabitants who preceded us.



May 1st: Queenstown, Wānaka, Haast Beach

Our day began in the soft stillness of morning along the shores of Lake Wakatipu. The Remarkables loomed across the water, living up to their name as their snow-dusted peaks caught the first light. Even though all this dramatic scenery was practically throwing itself at us, we couldn’t get enough shots of the giant sequoias that were watching over us.

In the late 19th century, during a period of extensive botanical experimentation, settlers in Queenstown planted coastal redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens) brought over from California. Today, it's quite controversial because they reflect Victorian-era ideals of cultivation and natural beauty. Over the decades, the redwoods adapted well to the local climate, and today they stand as towering reminders of Queenstown’s colonial past—quiet giants rooted in a chapter of environmental ambition and global exchange.

After our morning shoot, we enjoyed breakfast and hit the road, winding our way out of Queenstown through Kawarau Gorge—a scenic drive that carves through schist rock walls and clings to the edge of the turquoise Kawarau River. It’s hard to imagine that this gorge was once the heart of a roaring gold rush; today, it’s a place of silence, shadows, and steep cliffs that seem to rise straight out of Middle-earth. The group got a good laugh when we passed the Kawarau Bridge, where the first commercial bungee jump in the world was launched. Nobody seemed tempted to test their courage today, even though I reassured Don and Edie that I would join them in the plunge!

By lunchtime we were in Wānaka, a peaceful lakeside town with a slower rhythm than Queenstown. We strolled the waterfront with sandwiches in hand, and yes, we paid a respectful visit to That Wānaka Tree. The lone willow stood stubborn and elegant in the lake. It was a natural metaphor for patience, and a worthy subject even after all these years of Instagram fame. However, Susan and I were captivated by another one of those giant sequoias; we waited… and waited… and then we finally got that moment when no one else was in our perfectly framed shot.

After our brief stop in Wānaka, the road led us deeper into the South Island’s wild heart. We entered the temperate rainforest of Mount Aspiring National Park, where the landscape transformed almost imperceptibly from golden grasslands to dense green jungle. We stopped several times for quick captures… ferns, mist, and those spontaneous moments that remind you no itinerary is set in stone.

But it was the coast that stole the show.

We reached Haast Beach just in time for one of those sunsets that makes you forget to breathe! The sea stacks stood tall and defiant in the surf, silhouetted against a sky painted in swirls of rose, violet, and gold. Waves rolled in with a thunderous rhythm, while the wet black sand mirrored the colors above like some celestial watercolor spilled across the beach.

May 2nd: Haast, Jackson Bay, Haast Beach

We woke to a hushed morning in Haast. The sunrise was quiet, not dramatic, but deeply serene. We spaced out along the shores of the Hapuka River, some of us low to the ground capturing texture in the sand, others zeroed in on minimalist silhouettes where the countryside met the mountains. It was one of those mornings where the subtle tones spoke louder than color. This was a nice contrast to last night's vibrant finale.

After breakfast, we drove down the coast to Jackson Bay, a remote little settlement at the end of the road… literally. A few fishermen were prepping their boats, and the smell of salt and seaweed lingered in the air. We grabbed lunch at the famous Craypot, a quirky food caravan with picnic tables overlooking the water. The fish and chips were exactly what you want in a place like this—crispy, fresh, and unapologetically salty.

The afternoon was dedicated to the rainforest. We headed inland where the light barely reaches the forest floor, and the air feels ancient. The trails to the waterfalls were alive with sounds: the buzz of insects, the distant rush of water, and the occasional melodic call of a tūī or bellbird.

We returned to Haast Beach for golden hour, this time with a new intention. While the rest of our group marched toward the beach for some dramatic shots of the waves, Edie and I got distracted by a charismatic fantail. As a wildlife photographer, these little guys steal the show for me! Fantails are one of New Zealand’s native birds and they’re known for their distinctive fan-shaped tail and curious nature. They’re sometimes seen as messengers or symbols of change, which was highly appropriate for today’s shoot! Yesterday was all about the sea stacks, but today we were focused on movement.

The waves were livelier, tumbling in with more energy, curling and crashing with a rhythm that demanded faster shutter speeds. The color palette was completely different too: warm gold on the wet sand, deep indigo shadows across the surf, and orange light painting the waves from behind. Some of us tracked single waves, freezing the split-second where they folded and exploded into foam. Others panned with the surf, chasing the blur and drama.

May 3rd: Haast, Mt. Aspiring National Park, Twizel

We hit the road before sunrise, winding our way out of Haast beneath a velvet sky. As we entered Mt. Aspiring National Park, the landscape transformed. The forest deepened, the rivers shimmered in pre-dawn blues, and then we crested a ridge and saw it.

A valley completely FILLED with fog.

Not wispy or scattered—but thick, cinematic, and glowing with the first light of morning. It rolled through the trees like breath over glass, every fold of the terrain revealed and concealed in slow motion. For many of us, it was the most awe-inspiring fog scene we’d ever witnessed!

As we spread out to capture the moment, we weren’t alone. Overhead, a Kārearea (New Zealand falcon) circled the scene—majestic, watchful, and completely aware of our presence as we heard him shrieking from the forest canopy. These birds are incredibly rare… rarer, in fact, than all five species of kiwi! Recent estimates suggest that fewer than 5,000 Kārearea remain in the wild. Unlike most of New Zealand’s native birds, the Kārearea is a raptor, clocking speeds over 230 km/h in a dive, with talons strong enough to take down prey mid-air. It's New Zealand’s only native falcon, and it’s a symbol of speed, agility, and fierce independence. Having it watch over our shoot felt like wild New Zealand was looking back at us with a kind of blessing.

After reluctantly pulling away from the valley, we continued on, stopping at Thunder Creek Falls, where a towering 28-meter cascade plummets into a jade-colored pool. We experimented with long exposures, trying to balance soft water with the dense, mossy greens around it.

By afternoon, we arrived in Twizel, where the landscape shifted dramatically to open skies, dry plains, and that distinct Southern Alps backdrop. We reached Lake Pukaki just in time for golden hour, and luck was on our side. The clouds briefly parted, revealing Aoraki / Mt. Cook in all its majesty. The group went quiet for a bit and the only sounds we could hear were cameras clicking and wind rustling leaves.

We packed up to head to dinner, thinking that was our grand finale...

We were wrong.

Around 10 PM, a subtle glow began to rise on the southern horizon. Instead of crawling into our comfy beds, we braved the chilly evening breeze to find a clear view of the sky outside of town. The forecasts were looking like tonight could be something few get the chance to see, and sure enough, the Aurora Australis had made a rare appearance! Pink and green veils pulsed above the horizon far off in the distance. But as if that weren’t enough, the Milky Way arched above it, a dazzling river of stars spanning from one horizon to the other. Two of the rarest sky phenomena, captured in a single frame!

This opportunity was ours for the taking because of the uniqueness of Twizel’s dark skies. Twizel is officially recognized as part of the Aoraki Mackenzie International Dark Sky Reserve, one of the largest and clearest night sky reserves in the world. Thanks to strict light pollution controls, the town offers some of the darkest, most pristine skies on the planet which are perfect for stargazing and astrophotography.

What started as a foggy mountain morning ended in cosmic wonder under a star-splashed sky. It's difficult to comprehend that this was just one day!

May 4th: Lake Tekapo, Aoraki / Mount Cook Village, Aerial shoot

Lake Tekapo greeted us this morning with a serene hush. Tekapo also lies within the Aoraki Mackenzie International Dark Sky Reserve, and by day, it’s just as magical as it is by night. The lake's intense turquoise hue comes from finely ground rock flour suspended in the glacial meltwater, creating that mystical color we all try (and often fail) to fully capture with a camera.

After breakfast, we headed deeper into the heart of the Southern Alps, arriving in Aoraki / Mount Cook Village. The energy shifted from peaceful to powerful as we stood beneath Aoraki, the tallest mountain in New Zealand at 3,724 meters.

In Māori legend, Aoraki was one of four sons of the Sky Father, Rakinui. When their canoe capsized in the ocean, the brothers climbed to the top and were turned to stone, forming the Southern Alps. Aoraki became the tallest peak, and today he is considered a sacred ancestor to the Ngāi Tahu people. The mountain isn’t just a geographical feature, he is a living presence or spiritual guardian.

After learning about this region’s culture and mountaineering history at the Mt. Cook Visitor Centre, the day quite literally lifted off. We boarded a helicopter and soared above the wide, braided riverbeds beneath Aoraki. From above, the world turned surreal: glacial rivers spread out like silver threads on a blue-and-gold tapestry, constantly shifting, never the same twice. The braided rivers of the Mackenzie Basin are a rare geological feature, shaped by a volatile dance of sediment, water volume, and time. Seen from the air, they look like nature’s own abstract art—fluid geometry written across the land!

May 5th: Lake Ōhau, Reflective Pond, Twizel

We began our next day with a peaceful morning at Lake Ōhau, one of the hidden gems of the Mackenzie Basin. While nearby lakes like Tekapo and Pukaki often steal the spotlight, Ōhau quietly delivers some of the most photogenic alpine scenes in the region, and it's one of my personal favorites. This morning, low clouds moved across the ridgelines, occasionally parting to reveal jagged peaks dusted with fresh snow. The lake itself was glassy, catching every tone of the warming sky like a mirror.

In the afternoon, we shifted gears and dove into a post-processing session. It’s always fun to see how differently each photographer interprets the same scene—one person pulls out moody blues in the fog, another finds warmth in the same shot.

As golden hour approached, we made our way to a reflective pond, tucked into a quiet pocket of backcountry forest. The pond, surrounded by a mosaic of amber, crimson, and gold trees, becomes a perfect canvas when the wind dies down. And it did. The light went golden, the water stilled, and the reflections were almost unnervingly perfect—so much so that several of us joked we could just flip the images upside down and no one would know the difference.

We thought we’d had our fill of visual gifts for the day. But then… again… the southern sky began to glow!

We were treated to another incredible duet performed by the Milky Way and the Aurora Australis! Curtains of green and magenta unfurled behind the silhouette of the mountains, and just above it, the Milky Way traced a brilliant arc across the heavens. It was the kind of surreal beauty that feels scripted, almost too good to be true.

Two nights of the Aurora + Milky Way over the span of only 3 days?? That’s not just luck… it felt like all of this was truly meant to be, and moments like this remind me how unbelievably fortunate I am to be supported by the expertise of our team at Backcountry Journeys. We're constantly adjusting plans to create a perfect itinerary, and one of our secret ingredients is simply being in the right place at the right time!

May 6th: Aoraki Overlook, Arrowtown, Te Anau

We began the day in the shadow of giants. Arriving before sunrise at the Aoraki / Mt. Cook Overlook, we were greeted by the stillness that only comes with the first light. The sky slowly blushed from deep blue to peach as the sun crept over the horizon, casting its golden light across the snowcapped peaks of Aoraki.

From the alpine high country, we wound our way back east to Arrowtown, New Zealand’s autumn jewel. By afternoon, we were surrounded by a blaze of seasonal color. As the light softened, we began our journey south toward Te Anau, watching the landscape transition from autumn brilliance to the lush greens of Fiordland. The road unwound beside rolling hills and deep valleys until we reached the edge of Lake Te Anau.

We closed the day at Ivon Wilson Park, a tranquil pocket of nature tucked just outside town. The golden hour washed the landscape in soft pastels, and the still water of the lake mirrored the trees like polished glass. We set up along the shoreline, drawn in by the peaceful symmetry and the vibrant sunset performing in front of our cameras.

After so many dramatic landscapes, this calm, reflective evening felt like a moment to breathe and to appreciate how far we’ve come in our photographic journey that began in Queenstown only a week ago.

May 7th: Te Anau Sunrise, Kepler Track Forest

We began the morning in Te Anau, where brooding skies hinted at rain but allowed just enough light to create something magical. As the sun slipped through a break in the clouds, a brilliant rainbow arched across the sky, perfectly framing the shoreline of Lake Te Anau. The scene was serene yet dramatic—the still water reflecting moody tones, the curve of the beach leading the eye toward that fleeting splash of color. It was a quiet moment, rich in atmosphere, where the landscape spoke with subtle power.

Though the skies remained overcast, we ventured into the forests near the Kepler Track trailhead for a late-day shoot. Without strong light or golden hour glow, we focused on the mood of the forest—its deep greens, moss-covered trunks, and the soft diffusion of light filtering through the canopy. The overcast conditions actually enhanced the sense of stillness, giving our compositions a quiet, contemplative feel.

Some of us focused on mushrooms while others were hypnotized by the unique birds that call this forest home. The Tūī is one of my favorites and it’s a fascinating bird native to New Zealand. It’s known for its remarkable ability to mimic sounds, including human speech, other bird calls, and even mechanical noises like doorbells or car alarms. With two voice boxes, they can produce complex and layered songs, making their calls incredibly distinctive. Will Patino jokingly refers to them as the R2D2 of New Zealand and I honestly can’t think of a better way to describe them!

Their iridescent plumage, which appears black at first glance, actually shimmers with hues of blue, green, and bronze in the right light, adding to their beauty. The Tūī is also easily recognized by its iconic white throat tufts, known as "poi," which are a symbol of prestige in Māori culture. As an essential pollinator, the Tūī helps fertilize native plants which contributes to the health of New Zealand's ecosystems. Despite their melodious songs, Tūī are fiercely territorial and will aggressively chase away any intruders from their domain.

May 8th: Eglinton Valley, Milford Sound

After several packed days, we allowed ourselves a late breakfast which was a much-needed pause in order to catch up on sleep and recharge for the big day ahead. With gear ready and spirits high, we set off into the heart of Fiordland National Park, one of New Zealand’s most awe-inspiring landscapes.

As we drove through the Eglinton Valley, the clouds shifted just enough to reveal another rainbow, this one stretching low across the grasslands with mountains rising on either side. It was a perfect moment of color and contrast, a brief but brilliant gift from the weather.

The day built steadily toward its dramatic finale: a stormy Milford Sound boat cruise. Milford Sound is one of those places that leaves you in complete awe… especially in the middle of a wild, rain-soaked storm! The rain was pouring down in sheets, and instead of ruining the view, it actually made it more impressive. Countless temporary waterfalls poured down the cliffs from every direction, turning the whole fjord into a living, moving landscape. Mist clung to the mountains, and Mitre Peak loomed out of the clouds like something out of a fantasy novel. The water was dark and moody, and everything felt raw and powerful, like nature showing off. It was cold, wet, and intense, but absolutely unforgettable!

May 9th: Te Anau, Queenstown

Our final morning in New Zealand greeted us with cloudy skies and subdued light, so we embraced a slower pace by enjoying a relaxed breakfast together and reflecting on the incredible journey we’d shared.

After ten days chasing light across mountains, lakes, rainforests, and coastlines, we packed up our gear: memory cards full, boots worn in, and more stories than we could fit in a frame. New Zealand gave us drama and stillness, chaos and calm, auroras and rainbows, all stitched into one unforgettable loop. We came here to make photographs, but what we really gathered were moments we’ll keep returning to—quiet ones, loud ones, and a few that still don’t feel real.

This wasn’t just a trip.

This was a reminder of why we carry cameras with us thousands of miles across the globe, and it was a reminder of why we became photographers in the first place.