Navigating Wonders and Emotions in New Zealand- Sagnik’s Thrillophilia Trip Review

So, I never believed that any particular picture or sight can evoke feelings inside of you. I have been quite resistant to this ‘occurrence’. Even on treks, where people would go crazy over the scenery of mountain rangings rolling into the distance, I never felt the stomach to write paragraphs on it or make thousands of videos to post online.

My wife knew this, and she would always tease me that I was more of a robot than a human. I would not agree, but I used to get her point. Perhaps that is why she would always say that I just travel to tick off my bucket list, not to experience the journey. It was not entirely true, I loved meeting people. But nature never invoked any emotion inside of me. Where my wife would burst into tears watching a plain sunset, I would plainly hand her a box of tissues and think about outer space instead.

Maybe, I did not witness ‘my kind’ of scenery till then.

Anyway, New Zealand was never on my list, to be honest. It was a birthday gift for my wife that I planned entirely with the help of Thrillophilia. Yeah, I am not very emotional, but I am really not a robot. I love her from the core of my heart, and my actions, I am sure, convey that to her.

In this review, I would like to talk about some selective places, and you will understand why I was referring to my personality in the past tense.

The bygone reality

All the staunchness went out the window when I first visited the Waitomo Glowworm cave. I felt as if the sky had descended on Earth, or we had entered some kind of a planet other than Earth when I witnessed the cave light up brilliantly as we glided inside of it on a boat. At first, it was pitch black, and then, as we went in further, the walls of the cave started to glow in shades of blue and yellow, stealing my heart, my breath, and my not-so-emotional side away.

I gasped. And it was the first time my wife had seen me do so.

Instead of me clicking a picture of her, it was the other way around. We were carrying a good camera, and she clicked away nonstop. No flash was allowed inside the caves, so adjusting the functions of the devices she struggled too badly to get three shots. Only. and the endless clicks, I later realised, were false clicks.

A new present-

                             -Was gifted to me by Milford Sound.

I have visited so many places in Europe and beyond, but I have never encountered the beauty that New Zealand unveiled to me. Especially the Milford Sound. It is the only fjord in New Zealand that is accessible by road, and despite its name, it is a fjord, not a sound. This was imprinted on my mind by the sheer number of times it was conveyed to me by my wife.

My wake-up call came while I was chilling by the banks of the fjord.

The sun was about the set, I was sitting on a foldable chair, sipping in chamomile tea and watching the birds as they were returning home. Several towering mounts were standing right in front of me, their reflections gracing the whimsical waters that struggled to stay calm for more than a minute.

Out of romance, I played this old Hindi song on my phone,

“Zindagi, kaisi yeh paheli hai, kabhi yeh hasaye, kabhi yeh rulaye”

My wife came running to me, stunned at the sight of me soaking in the views in front of me and playing such songs. I did not expect it, but as the sun slowly turned red, so did I. My eyes were filled with tears, swelling up at the edge of the eyelids, awaiting a blink to roll down the cheeks.

I don't know what got triggered, but I started having flashbacks of the times I spent with my father trekking to mountain tops. It was always his wish to come to this part of the world, but before I could settle down at a level where I could afford to take him on a New Zealand trip, he passed away.

The sunset reminded me of him.

A fresh start

I think this incident changed some mechanisms inside of me, tightened some crews and replaced some cogs.

The last leg of the trip was visiting the Franz Josef Glacier. I knew I would encounter snow there, so I was quite excited. When my wife heard me hum a tune while peeping in the mirror and wearing my jacket, she realised something had happened to me. She took my arms, made me sit on the corner of the bed, and asked me.

“Are you fine?”
“Never better”
“No seriously…tell me”
“I don't know, I think, I finally learnt to let my emotions out. I learnt to express myself, and more than that, I learnt to embrace my own feelings. I don't know what happened that day while watching the sunset… I feel quite light after that.”

Her eyes gleamed, and she beamed with happiness. She could not wait to go to the glacier with me and walk through the ice ridges and have the time of her life as she always wanted to, with me.

And she was right. The tour turned out just like that. I could not believe myself when I saw my inverted reflections on the ice and felt a tinge of joy bubble up inside of me. I had different ideas popping up in my mind like never before, fun ideas. The most subtle one, I figured, would be to throw a ball of snow at her, so I did. But I think the fact that I was engaging with her made her feel better than ice, so she kept quiet and simply smiled at me.

That smile was one of extreme importance to me because that made me realise that I had finally grown over myself to be a better, more mature man.

Read More: Thrillophilia New Zealand Reviews