How New Zealand delivered unexpected magic
Chapter 26: A sunset, a love bridge and a wondrous surprise
This is the final chapter of Love at First Flight, my memoir about finding connection while travelling solo around the world.
In this chapter, a sunset conversation on the beach with a new friend shows me how far I've come.
"Would you like to join me at the beach later to watch the sunset and share this?" asked the handsome French man, holding up a bottle of wine.
Warm afternoon light filtered through the trees as our tour group gathered for a barbecue, hungrily filling our plates from the buffet. After a long journey, we'd just arrived at this coastal guesthouse at the edge of Abel Tasman National Park.
He looked at me, his dark eyes searching for my response.
"Absolutely," I replied with a smile. How could I say no to an invitation like that?
The bus stop
That morning, I was standing outside a hostel 40 miles away in Nelson, a small city on the northern shores of Tasman Bay in New Zealand’s South Island. The bus was running late but I didn’t care.
Sunshine warmed my skin and the fragrance of garden flowers floated in the air. My belly was full of breakfast and my backpack leaned against the fence. A big decision weighed on my mind, but I was determined not to let it distract me from this trip.
That's when I spotted a guy shifting his weight from foot to foot, checking his watch. A huge backpack like mine lay on the ground beside him. I wandered over.
"Are you waiting for the bus?" I asked him.
"Yes, for the South Island tour, right?" he said, checking his watch again. "It's really late, I hope nothing's wrong."
He introduced himself as Steeve and we had the obligatory chat about where we’re from. I learned he was French but living in Belgium and that he was only three weeks into his travels.
"I quit my job and bought a one-way ticket to New Zealand," he said. "I had to get out. How long have you been travelling?"
"A year," I replied with a smile, realising the date. "Almost to the day."
Steeve’s eyes widened. "Wow, you must have it all figured out by now. I feel like I'm making it up as I go along."
I knew what he meant. A year ago, I'd felt exactly the same way - craving a plan but encouraging myself to be spontaneous.
"That's the best way to do it," I told him, and I meant it.
On the road
When the tour bus finally arrived, Steeve and I found seats together. As we headed towards our first destination of Abel Tasman, I watched the landscape change from Nelson’s cultivated farmland and pine-forested hills into thick native bush.
We stopped midway at a supermarket—the tour was organising a group barbecue that evening and this was our chance to buy drinks and snacks to go with it. Steeve and I grabbed a trolley and wandered the aisles together, debating what to buy. At one point, we were choosing a bottle of wine and it felt like we’d been doing this for decades, like an old married couple.
Finally, we arrived in Mārahau, a village at the southern entrance of the Abel Tasman National Park. Our hosts welcomed us to the lodging, where we dropped our backpacks next to beds in the dorm rooms. Later on, as we tucked into the tasty barbecue, they explained there was a beach a short walk away along some coastal paths. The evening was warm and relaxed, as everyone got to know each other over beers and grilled food.
That's when Steeve came over with a bottle of wine and suggested we go to the beach together to watch the sunset.
Crossing the bridge
We walked across a long wooden bridge stretching along the coastal track to the shore, wine tucked under Steeve's arm, camera ready in his hand to film the sunset.
On the other side, we could see the bridge led into the bush, where the hosts had told us a path would take us to the beach.
"Look at this," said Steeve, stopped and pointed to the ground as we neared the end of the bridge.
Someone before us had arranged rocks in the wet sand spelling out the phrases "love you" and “U rock.”
"This must be a love bridge," laughed Steeve, as we carried on walking.
We passed through a narrow pathway surrounded by tall shrubs, then it opened up to the beach and we made our way onto the sand to find a nice spot to sit and enjoy the evening.
A sunset conversation
Eventually, we found a driftwood log and settled against it, watching the sea roll in and ease back, as gentle breezes brushed our skin. Steeve set up his camera.
We took off our shoes and plunged our toes into the soft sand. Tiny sand flies danced around us, threatening to bite our ankles. Opening the bottle of wine, we passed it between us and the alcohol warmed my throat. The sunset slowly spread across the sky, painting it in oranges and pinks.
At one point, Steeve picked up a shell from the sand, turning it over in his palm like a treasure.
"Do you know what this is?” he said, tracing the shell's spiral with his finger. “The golden ratio - 1.618 in maths. It’s the divine proportion - as close to perfection as you can get. You see it everywhere in nature: flower petals, pine cones, even galaxies. Like a bridge between science and beauty."
He held up the shell to catch the last rays of light and I leaned in to look at this naturally perfect creation.
"Keep it," I said. "A souvenir of tonight." He tucked it into his pocket.
After getting up to check his camera again, he sat back down against the log and began digging into the sand with his heel. "Can I ask you something? What made you decide to go travelling by yourself?"
I cast my mind back. "I was miserable in London. A long relationship ended, I lost my passion for my work. This trip was something I’d dreamt of for ages, so I went for it."
He nodded. "Same for me, I had a break-up too.” Then he paused and continued circling his heel in the sand. “My job felt meaningless, everything was meaningless. Going on a plane to the other side of the world was the only thing I could do."
Listening to him was like hearing myself from a year ago. The same desperate hope that travel would heal my heart.
“My stepdad encouraged me,” he continued. “He said, ‘Steeve, dig a hole wherever you go. Find somewhere that will make you happy.’” Steeve looked down at the small hole he had created beneath him with his foot, then looked at me with a smile. “Maybe here - it’s beautiful. Though I already have a flight booked to Sydney in a few weeks, so who knows.”
As we talked more about his travel plans in Australia and beyond, I shared my experiences and what I’d learned from my whole trip. It occurred to me that I was meant to be here, now, at this exact moment. During my travels, I’d met amazing people who had given me guidance when I'd needed it the most. Now, maybe I was this person for Steeve.
"What about you?" he asked after a while. "What are your plans?"
I was quiet for a moment. He had opened up so much, I decided to share my dilemma with him. “I love travelling but I have this permanent job opportunity in Auckland. For a cool company. It was a surprise offer and I need to give them an answer this week.”
“What will you do?”
“Well, the old me would have said yes without thinking. I mean, it’s security, a plan, everything sorted. But now..." I trailed off.
"But now?"
"Now I’ll give it time and trust that the universe will bring me the answer. Whatever's meant to happen will happen. I don't need to figure it all out right now."
As I said the words, I realised I was no longer that anxious woman in London, seeking quick fixes and hoping someone or something else would be the key to my happiness.
Steeve smiled. "You sound so confident. I admire that."
Not always, I thought. But somewhere along the way, I'd become the calm, wise one. Now I was able to help this new traveller on his journey.
I knew there was a reason our paths had crossed today.
Light in the darkness
"Shall we head back?" Steeve asked as the dusk settled in. He packed up his camera and grabbed the empty bottle of wine.
We approached the bush path back to our accommodation. Now the sunlight was fading, the pitch blackness loomed ahead like a black hole. My stomach clenched and without thinking, I grabbed his hand. "I can’t see anything," I explained. “Don’t like the dark.” Steeve’s warm palm held mine, as he led the way along the narrow track.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I gasped.
"This is incredible," Steeve whispered, intertwining his fingers with mine.
In the twilight, the high banks of bushes surrounding us were now illuminated by hundreds of glowing insects. Their tiny bioluminescent bodies lit up the tunnel like strings of soft fairy lights against the dark green foliage.
As we exited the other side of this magical tunnel and back into what remained of the daylight, I didn’t let go of Steeve’s hand.
The love bridge
Still hand-in-hand, we walked back onto the wooden bridge. In the purple deepening of the evening, the heartfelt messages were still visible in the sand below: "love you" spelled out in smooth stones.
"We're back on the love bridge,” Steeve said, stopping to turn towards me and taking my other hand in his. “It’s so romantic." He smiled and to my surprise, he leaned in to kiss me.
The moment was so spontaneous and sweet. We’d just opened our hearts to each other. I moved towards him too. When his lips met mine, soft and warm, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
We pulled apart and smiled at each other, cheeks flushed, as the last glints of daylight disappeared.
Walking into tomorrow
Without a word, still holding hands, we continued over the love bridge into the darkness.
Behind me, my year of travel - the magical, transformative path I'd walked through. I'd circled the globe and journeyed through the layers of myself, some of which I’d forgotten, buried deep or didn’t even know were there. These parts of me had come to the surface and each had a message for me, slowly settling in like rocks on wet sand.
I’d started this trip as an empty shell, spiralling into panic. Now, I was whole, like I’d figured out the golden ratio of my life.
And ahead of me? On the other side of this bridge? I didn’t know. We kept walking.
A year ago, I would have needed to see the destination before I'd dare to cross. Now I was calm about not knowing. If anything, it meant freedom. A world of possibilities. Maybe the real magic happens on the bridge itself, in the space between who you are and who you’re becoming.
I'd come full circle, around the world and back to myself. After months of seeking peace and balance, signs and synchronicities, I'd become the experienced traveller I'd longed to be and the wise mentor I always needed.
It was a wonderful ending to an extraordinary day. But really, it was the most beautiful beginning.
Want to know what happened next? The epilogue to Love at First Flight is coming soon.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please tap the ❤️—it helps others discover the story and makes me so happy.
Next week, I explore why different kinds of natural landscapes, like the sea and mountains feel so healing and positive for our mental wellbeing.
I felt like I came with you on that walk to the beach! Such a beautiful memory
Great story. I too met my partner while traveling. I'm now inspired to write about it!