Guest Blog by Edwin Ouellette

Photos courtesy of Scott Loudon
I stuck out my thumb, held up my cardboard sign and smiled. Most drivers smiled back or waved. After only five short minutes, a white four-door sedan pulled over. I grabbed by heavy pack and headed over – I’d snagged my first ride as a hitchhiker in New Zealand.
New Zealand is probably one of the best countries to hitchhike in, due in large part to the overall friendliness of the population. Hitchhiking is not only a splendid mode of cheap transportation, but it also offers travelers a unique chance to meet all sorts of folks and hear their stories.
For my first hitchhiking adventure I’d be attempting to make it from Dunedin to Bluff (302 kilometers) in a day. The plan was to hitchhike to Bluff, then take the ferry to Stewart Island, where I’d hike solo for four days, then take the ferry back to the South Island and hitch back to Dunedin. I knew I was bound to meet lots of people and have a memorable adventure.
Two kiwi girls at uni, Dawn and Brie, gave me my first ride to Milton. They were exceedingly sociable and even offered me some Cadbury chocolate from their tour of the Cadbury Chocolate Factory in Dunedin, which, of course, I eagerly accepted. We chatted about university life, and they asked me about what it was like living in America. They didn’t know where Oregon was, but they said they liked my accent. Sweet as. They let me out at Milton and even took pictures with me.
In ten minutes, I got my next ride. Two kiwi guys in their twenties were headed back from a fishing trip. We talked a bit about fishing, and I learned that New Zealand is the brown trout capital of the world. They dropped me off in Balclutha.
As I waved goodbye, I was confident that I’d get a ride in ten minutes. Tops. Boy, was I wrong.
Sweat beaded on my brow. I’d been standing on road with my sign for over an hour in the hot sun … with no luck. I was losing hope. I took a break and went to a bar across the road. After reloading on H20, I moseyed back to my hitchhiking spot. Immediately, a red beat-up pickup pulled up. “Need a lift?” asked a middle-aged kiwi man. Yes! I hauled my pack into the bed, and we took off in a spurt of gravel and dust.
His old yellow lab, “Betsy,”  rested her head on my lap as we talked about New Zealand politics, the Vietnam War, the nuclear-free issue, and socialism. I was taken aback by his up-to-date knowledge of U.S. foreign policy. As the conversation shifted, he talked about his family and inquired about mine. Betsy happily licked my hand with her pink tongue. After we’d stopped at his house in Clinton, I helped him unload his pickup and said my goodbye. Once I’d walked into town, I stuck out my thumb again. Literally within seconds, a sporty red Camaro picked me up.
The driver, Mark, was a designer at Otago Polytechnic in Dunedin. He was headed to Invercargill to visit relatives of a friend who had just died in a helicopter accident. We talked about all sorts of topics. With salty language, he told me about how he’d designed green children’s playground equipment, and how he brewed his own beer. After forty-five minutes, we stopped at one of his favorite cheap fish and chips places for tea. As we ate our hoki fish and chips with tomato sauce, we discussed relationships, technology, and Coldplay. He dropped me off in Invercargill, and in seven minutes I’d landed another ride.
A local photographer gave me a short ride and an Aussie girl on vacation drove me into Bluff. A couple minutes later, I was pitching my tent at a Bluff campsite. The hitchhiking had been a phenomenal success; better than I could have ever expected. In the morning, I headed over to Stewart Island for four days of solo-tramping, fantastic scenery, mud, whale poop, and wild kiwis – but that’s another story.
A few weeks after my first hitchhiking trip, I hitchhiked again with my Scottish pal, Scott. My first hitchhiking trip had been a triumph, so I decided to give it another go. For that trip, I shaved off a mustache I’d grown (Movember), which, admittedly, looked a bit creepy. This time, we successfully made it to Christchurch and back. We met an Italian graphic designer who had designed the logo for Australia’s version of Dancing with the Stars. We met a mother and daughter who worked as horse-trainers. We met a cleaning man from Dunedin who spoke fluent Japanese and told the most fascinating and crazy stories; like the time he got drunk with his girlfriend and pranced around on the hood of his car in his underwear, only to have a police officer pull up.
Whilst hitching in New Zealand, I’ve met many friendly people and listened to their stories. And I’ve collected heaps of my own stories during these past five months in New Zealand. I’ve seen the world’s best rugby team live; I’ve jumped off the world’s first commercial bungy; and I’ve seen the world’s rarest penguins. Without a doubt, studying abroad has made me more confident, more easy-going, and more adventurous. Now that my time in New Zealand has come to an end, new adventures await upon my return to the States.

Read more stories from study abroad students in our Spring 2010 series, Blogs from Abroad, including Edwin’s other posts.

Edwin Ouellette is a senior majoring in Magazine Journalism and Political Science at the University of Oregon. Due to his love of kiwi culture (including Flight of the Conchords, of course) he chose to study abroad as a scarfie at the University of Otago in Dunedin, New Zealand. When not pouring over ancient manuscripts and homework, some of his hobbies include boxing, badminton, writing, guitar-playing, and cartooning. After graduation he plans to become an online journalist, a cartoonist, an author, a penguin expert, and a world traveler. To read more about his adventures, which are mostly epic, visit his blog.

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