When former Wellington mayor Kerry Prendergast agreed to walk the Te Araroa Trail with a couple of friends, she had no idea how tough the walk would be.
"It's much tougher than anything in Europe ... New Zealand's raw, it's new. All of those trails [in Europe] have been walked for centuries by people and sort of flattened out and there's cafes and things along the way with wine and coffee... But it's not like that in the South Island," she tells Kathryn Ryan.
Over two recent summers, Prendergast made the epic 3021km journey with her friends Tim and Sue Pankhurst.
The trio speak to Kathryn Ryan ahead of the launch of Tim's new book Every Effing Inch.
Tim tells Nine to Noon that back when he was working, he'd often take in a brass plaque on Willis Street that marks a section of the Te Araroa Trail.
"I'd always pause and look at this and think 'how cool would that be to walk the length of our country?"
Once he was fully retired, Tim "tentatively raised" the idea of walking the Te Araroa Trail with his wife Sue, who was initially not keen.
Their "very adventurous" friend Kerry Prendergast – a former mayor of Wellington who'd previously walked several European trails including the famous El Camino de Santiago – immediately agreed.
Despite this, Kerry admits she's someone who "says yes to everything" and didn't think she'd actually have the time to do it, until the Covid-19 lockdowns.
Sue agreed to support Tim and Kerry on the trail and planned to start walking with them and see how went.
She says the sections she feared most were the Tararua rivers, the Waiau Pass and the Richmond Ranges.
"Once I got through the Tararua rivers, I thought 'Okay, we'll give it a go'. And the body was standing up. Once we got past the Waiau Pass I was in like Flynn, every step.
"I was always not committed. But after those, you're done over 2000 kilometres, I wasn't going to give up that challenge."
Reaching the top of the Waiau Pass was one of Sue's highlights, although that particular day took a dramatic turn for the worse.
"We're standing up there having our lunch. It was icy clear, beautiful air but within two hours. I'd say… we were going down, it was pretty steep, cutting ice steps.
"Tim was in the back... and this particular step, it just sort of dissolved, collapsed. His legs went between mine and he shot me down the mountain.
"Luckily, I twirled, hit a rock, broke two ribs, didn't know. But about three metres from where we stopped was a huge, huge cliff.
"We had to pick ourselves up and we still had a huge five or six hours of huge walking."
On the final day of the walk, she was overcome with emotion.
"We were battling a storm, walking on this huge road. And a truckie went past and beeped... we were nearly there and the emotion just caught my breath and I cried into the wind. I confessed to Tim and he had [cried], too."
Although Kerry says she relishes a challenge – "I wouldn't have been mayor if I didn't take risks" – getting stuck upside down in a canoe on the Whanganui River wasn't one she would have chosen.
"I'm shouting, thinking I'm going to drown and realise I can hear my own voice - I was an ear pocket… I'm not a good swimmer. In fact, I can't swim. That started the fear for me."
Later, crossing the Waiau River, Kerry fell in, pulling Tim and Sue in, as well.
"We were doing a technical crossing. It was high and it was a lot of pressure… Tim was amazing. He made sure that I got across all the rest of the rivers in the South Island."
Kerry's husband Rex Nicholls was an essential supporter, too.
"He would pick us up at the end of every day and take us to where Sue had booked us. There'd be pies and beer and chardonnay. He was the real hero, Rex darling, you were the real hero."
Making her way out of the Tararua district, where Kerry had been "really emotional", Rex was there to meet them.
"He flipped the boot with cold beers and pies and baking from Bordeaux Bakery and those sorts of things."
Although the group planned to sleep in tents, they only lasted two nights on the ground, Kerry says, otherwise staying in "luxurious Air bnbs" that Sue had booked or in DOC huts.
Going weeks without a shower proved difficult for both women – "Sue and I love washing machines and hot water" – but waking up amidst untouched natural beauty was a balm.
"In the morning, setting off when you know the aches and pains of the night before are faded and you're looking out this amazing landscape that 99 percent of New Zealanders never see, that's when it's special."
For Tim, it was a privilege to experience "backcountry that most New Zealanders will never see".
"Being up in the tussock in Otago and Canterbury and being in a remote musterer's hut that's been there for decades and the sun's just going down and the cold is creeping down the mountain and there's no sound except maybe the stream chuckling away..."
When the group set off from Cape Reinga in Spring 2020, he says the trail was very quiet due to the lack of international visitors.
"The rest of New Zealand's wearing masks and worrying about Covid and we're there. There's probably no one within many miles. And then you've got a lovely hut to tuck into. you just think 'wow, this is absolutely sublime. How lucky are we?"
That said, Tim admits that New Zealand has a "volatile climate" and some "pretty demanding territory".
A south-westerly gale that blasted the group on 90 Mile Beach offered a "good introduction" to the challenges to come, which included crossing Northland's Horahora Estuary.
"When it was up to Sue's neck, in the dark, and her feet are starting to move away, we're thinking 'we're in serious trouble here'. But thankfully, it didn't get any deeper and we managed to get across there."
Since the turn of the century, 20 people have drowned in New Zealand's backcountry rivers, Tim says, and according to an analysis by the Federated Mountain Clubs, all of these deaths were avoidable.
"People needed to wait and be sensible. But it's pretty tempting when you've got an end in sight. You're cold, you're wet, you want to get to a campsite, you want to get to a hut. So you do force it."
For Tim, the Te Araroa Trail was much more than a walk across New Zealand. It was a walk through our history, literature, flora and fauna, made especially memorable by the interesting characters that he, Sue and Kerry met.
"Tramping is probably it's a peculiar activity in that you willingly subject yourself to discomfort but the people who make the effort are always interesting. We met some incredible people along the way."
Post-Te Araraoa, the pensioneers are closer than ever, he says.
"[Sue and I] are still married and we're still good friends with Kerry so that says a lot."
Every Effing Inch is available from The Underground Bookstore and major booksellers.