Finding Home in the Unknown: A Six-Week Woking-Holiday in Queenstown

Updated: Dec 25, 2023

Picture taken from the first run I went on, exploring the streets of Queenstown as well as the Queenstown gardens

When I imagined solo traveling to a new country to live for 6 weeks, I envisioned myself as the epitome of wanderlust—a radiant face, bathed in the glow of unlimited adventure, surrounded by kindred nomads.

I came upon a rude awakening.

In order to live in Queenstown, New Zealand, for 6 weeks, I needed money. A bank account. A tax code. An affordable place to live.

I essentially needed to "adult the fuck up" the second I stepped off that plane in order to build an entire, albeit short-term, life for myself.

The struggle was real. Realer than I had ever felt. The hostel I initially picked felt like a bad Tinder date, so I traded it in for one that felt more like a dysfunctional but endearing family—a crucial sanity-saving move. I landed a job as a bartender at a club-like joint for ski enthusiasts. I longed to be carving down the slopes, but instead, I found myself serving drinks to those living my snowy dream.

Night skiing at Coronet Peak (one time I did manage to get off of work and onto the mountain.)

Soon, I was not only physically sick from the crazy hours and exposure to party animals, but I caught a nasty case of homesickness. I mean, who knew homesickness was a legit ailment?

However, things started to turn around when I met Natalie in the hostel kitchen, a fellow young American in the same leaky boat. After ditching my bartending gig post-health revival, I snagged a waitressing job at a charming café close to my favorite mountain. Things were looking up.

Ben Lomond Trail: 5 minute walk from the cafe

Free meal given with my shift at Bespoke Cafe. This meal was carrot-ginger bisque with homemade sourdough bread and a harvest side salad.

Cue solo hikes with the perfect playlist, gondola rides, a job with free meals, and, oh, did I mention I met a boy? It was like my own mini soap opera with a side of mountain views.

An excerpt from my journal at the three-week mark probably says it best:

"9/10/23

dear future ella,

actually let's think about those 3 words. every time i say/write/think them i never actually wonder what future me (in the next 1week to 1 month) will be feeling, experiencing. it's crazy how much i change: how turbulent i am. i am learning from eat pray love (the book) that this is because i am not centered. i live in the past, i live in the future, and i am rarely in the present. apparently we all have the divine within us, a being that is ME that is eternally at peace. you just have to get past the ego; the overthinker to descend into it. one way to do this is meditation and having a mantra. to let the mind run wild while also giving it something to focus on- hence the mantra, as well as love. i plan on trying this soon.

i miss my peace. i am not currently at peace but i am searching for it. i'm trying to balance being explorative with also being safe. i am adjusting to life as a solo traveler. there is no stability, and it's not vacation. it's living and working in a new place while seeing all the fun things to do but trying to save money. it's hard. this is one of the hardest things i've ever done. it has made me appreciate my friends and family more than i ever thought. and it has taught me that i need stability to some extent. this has made me question how i want the rest of my life to go. i still have a love for travel, but less of a need to go it alone; and if i do, to have some sort of community (weather it be work or school, i need something.) also this experience has taught me the value of money. money buys you options. the option to have a nice meal over a bowl of soup, the option to sleep in a big bed versus the ground, the option to go home.

i can do this though. i have no choice. i have to power through. and hey, maybe i'll find my peace along the way. time to find somewhere to meditate.

lots of love,

ella"

But lo and behold, my newfound stability came in the form of a quirky international friend group featuring Natalie, a German named Thorben, and a wild Aussie named Callum. Life was finally aligning with my initial rosy vision. The more people I met, the less I felt like a lone ranger on Queenstown's well-manicured streets.

I went out with friends and was now the girl on the other side of the bar, happily sipping my Hazy IPA. My favorite spot was an Irish pub on the water where the bartenders knew my drink of choice as a Guinness with a dash of black currant. My routine became one of happiness and smiles instead of tissues and depression.

Alas, that chapter was over as soon as it began. My 6 weeks were up, and it was time to start my study abroad program, researching the flora and fauna of New Zealand. An opportunity to see the rest of this beautiful country outside of my Queenstown bubble. While I cried tears of sadness on the plane back to Auckland, they were also tears of gratuity and hope.

But I will always remember the highlights of my 6 weeks or the lessons I learned. Night skiing at Coronet Peak, skydiving, bungee jumping, bull riding, delicious flat whites from my cafe, tasting at Canyon Brewery, golfing in Frankton, and treks up the Ben Lomond trail. There were plenty of hardships, but all of it was worth it. I know now that I can take care of myself. There are so many people out there to meet, so many different stories, and so much unwritten in my life that I am excited to see come to pass.

And spoiler alert: finding your "peace" is an ongoing journey of self-discovery. Segments of that journey are undergone alone, while other parts are done with people surrounding you, giving you the comfort and support that are life-blood to the human soul.

Thank you, Queenstown, for teaching me that one.