Welcome to another story-driven blog where we will take you to explore Wānaka in the South Island of New Zealand, sharing our thoughts on the moment, and let you dive into what it might look like during your visit. For you to decide if it is worth being there.
Take a moment to immerse yourself in our story, and, hopefully, by the end, it can help you decide whether or not you should go.
The Story
In Mid-summer, the weather is kinder, and people are spending their time outside. It is also the peak tourism season and the best time to bring our family to explore the country we love. We were spending a few days in Queenstown waiting to celebrate new year together in one of the most magical cities in the world.
With some spare time and a gap in our itinerary, we searched for somewhere to bring her family.
“Should we take them to that place with the tree in the water?” she asked.
That might have been one of the best lines to describe a place that immediately tells me where she was referring to. Recalling back a few years ago, she also used a similar line to catch my attention to this place.
“There is also this tree in the water we could go see.” Was probably close to what she said back then.
“What?” I was dumbfounded, but, admittedly, it does, somehow, sound interesting. She adjusted her position a little before bending towards me from the passenger seat, tilting her phone slightly so I could see the screen.
It was a photo from Google Maps, a photo of a lone tree sitting in the middle of a lake. “Hmm, well, that does look interesting, let’s go,” was simply how we decided to stop by there. That’s also actually how it would always be when we are planning our trips on the go.
Thinking back, what was interesting about a tree, I wondered.
With the plan for the day settled, we head off on a one-hour drive to the town of Wānaka. The last time we were there, we took the route heading down from Franz Josef / Waiau, so it was on the way to Queenstown for us. This time, we are driving back up specifically for the lake.
As expected, a few days before the new year, the street was filled with life, people walking around, restaurants filled up every one of their tables, and the street side parking spots felt like they had a bounty set on them with every driver eyeing any possible chance to secure it. For us, luck held our hands and guided us right to the closest one from the main street, where all the cafes and restaurants are located.
We enjoyed a short 15-minute walk from our car to That Wānaka Tree, following the path along the lake. People came out swimming, paddling on their boards and kayaks, cruising on their boats and jet skis, walking their dogs, and coming out for a run, enjoying their summer; in contrast, the time we came here in autumn a few years ago looked lifeless, cold, and foggy, even the ducks looked like they were a bit sad. “This must be the magic of a sunny day in summer,” I thought. The whole way was surrounded by green leaves of summer and the view of the mountains, unobstructed by any clouds. It was a pleasant walk.
Before we knew it, the tree was already in view. In front of it, a large group of people was gathering around, taking photos of and with it. Without minding much, we joined the group, took a few photos, and posed for a few shots with it.
The tree, too, feels more alive, which it probably is. In autumn, when we arrived, there was not a single leaf left on its branches; now it is covered in green again. I enjoyed the summer here more, but, somehow, when the atmosphere was quieter and the lake calmer, the tree, which is in hibernation waiting for the cold to pass, feels more magical to me. Something about the branchiness is more aesthetically pleasing and calms me down, like the world is moving more slowly, undisturbed, almost stopped in time. If someone were to ask me when they should come, solely for the Wanaka tree, I would say autumn.
We stepped back further from the crowd and waited for her family to finish up their photo session.
“Here we are, it’s a tree…” a male voice sounded, “it’s just a tree, people!” “Why!?” a woman’s voice followed, both in a mocking tone. A couple beside us was talking, rather loudly, which caught our attention.
“It is just a tree,” I whispered to my partner, my eyes still glued to said tree, after already having taken more than thirty photos of it with my camera. “Haha, it really is just a tree,” she whispered back, “but a tree in front of my house doesn’t look this nice, nor did it grow in a lake,” she followed. “True,” I said, after letting out a small chuckle.
I’d like to think of ‘the tree’ as a piece of drawing or a sculpture, a fine art piece. Instead of visiting the museum to look at one, we drove out to a lake; that way, I could learn to appreciate it more. Akin to how a professional artist spends years or a lifetime crafting his or her art, this tree has also spent a century growing and thriving in this water, alone, beginning its life as a fence post. If it is just a tree, then perhaps the Starry Night is just oil paint on a canvas, of which it is, just that I can’t paint it myself, similarly, I can’t grow a tree in a pond on my backyard–if I even have a backyard with a pond–and make it look like ‘That Wānaka Tree,’ even if i can make it sprout, It may not turn out to look exactly like this, and my pond would not become a lake surrounded by mountains.
It was the tree that brought us here, but for the locals, it was probably the sandy beach, the sun shining, the small picnic, the dip in the water, and the leisure time spent looking out to the lake, which is also what we ended up doing for the rest of our time there, along with the seagulls and ducks, over some fried chicken and drinks we bought from one of the restaurants on Ardmore street.
