Words & Image (of a Māori Rock Carving – Ngatoroirangi – a visionary Maori navigator) kindly contributed by Michael Johnson
Somewhere between Lake Tekapo and Arrowtown, the clasp on my sterling silver necklace snapped. It wasn’t expensive, but it had travelled with me for years. In the quiet stillness of a South Island winter, losing something so small felt unexpectedly significant. a reminder that the objects we carry often hold more story than we realise.
There’s something about winter in the South Island that sharpens everything.The air feels thinner. The lakes look darker. Even the silence seems more deliberate.
I was halfway through a solo drive from Christchurch to Queenstown when I realised I’d lost something small – but oddly important. Somewhere between Lake Tekapo and a roadside coffee stop in Twizel, the clasp on my sterling silver necklace had snapped.
It wasn’t expensive. It wasn’t flashy. But it had been with me on every overseas trip I’d taken in the last five years.
And suddenly, on a quiet stretch of State Highway 8, in the South Island of New Zealand, that tiny detail felt bigger than it should have.
Travel Has a Way of Making Objects Meaningful
We pack light when we travel – at least we try to. A few layers, good boots, a phone charger, and a passport.
But certain personal items always sneak into the bag. Jewellery is one of them.
Sterling silver in particular travels well. It’s understated. It ages naturally. It picks up stories instead of scratches.
When you’re hiking the Hooker Valley Track under low cloud, or leaning against a railing overlooking Lake Wakatipu, it doesn’t scream for attention. It just sits there, quietly, part of the moment.
That’s probably why it’s such a common travel companion. It feels durable but personal. Functional but expressive.
A Stop in Arrowtown
Later that afternoon, I wandered into a small independent shop in Arrowtown. The kind with wooden floors that creak and a heater that works harder than it looks like it should.
The owner told me something that stuck: “People buy silver when they travel because they want something that lasts longer than the trip.”
Gold feels like an investment. Costume jewellery feels temporary. Sterling silver sits somewhere in the middle – accessible, but enduring.
I ended up replacing the necklace with a simple silver chain made locally. No gemstones. No branding. Just something solid.
Why Silver Makes Sense on the Road
There’s a practical side to it too.
Sterling silver is:
Durable enough for daily wear
Subtle enough for both hiking gear and dinner in town
Easy to maintain
Less likely to feel “overdone” in natural settings
In a place like New Zealand – where a day can involve alpine walks, café stops, and an evening glass of pinot – versatility matters. You don’t want to think about what you’re wearing. You want to think about where you are.
Travel is Memory Engineering
When I look at that replacement necklace now, I don’t think about jewellery.
I think about frost on the car windscreen in Tekapo. About the smell of wood smoke in Arrowtown. About that strange feeling when something small goes missing. And something else quietly replaces it.
Travel does that. It turns objects into anchors. And sometimes, the things we carry aren’t about style or status. They’re about continuity.
A small piece of sterling silver might not change a trip. But sometimes it is a part of the story.
Recommended Read: Action
Recommended Listening: Indie
If you would like to know more about this or any other story published on Mytravelroom please feel free to contact me at janeco@mytravelroom.co.nz
