The best traveling companions aren’t always the ones with whom you left home. Some of my most memorable travel buddies are people I’ve met along the way: Erwin of the indigo hair in the Paris Laundromat; Paula of the free pizza on the train to Rome; Christos and Jason of the ouzo on the Greek ATVs. The list goes on.

A few weeks ago, I spent two days with a group that inspired me in ways none of my previous friends of travel happenstance can claim, and, perhaps not surprisingly, I met them in New Zealand, the friendliest and most inspiring place I’ve ever visited.

Their names are Niko, Baldy, Auntie Sugar, Reina, Corrinne, Claire, and Brent; their mountain is Ruapehu; their river is Whanganui.

That’s how they would introduce themselves. They were my guides, hosts, and companions on a Waka Tour down the Whanganui River that saw me heading a canoe; bouncing in a jet boat; singing in powhiri welcome ceremonies; and sleeping in a marae, or traditional Maori meetinghouse.

Having grown up halfway around the world, I didn’t know much about Maori culture going into the trip, and I knew no one of Maori descent. In fact, when I saw the phrase “overnight in Marae” on my Waka Tour itinerary, I thought it was the name of the city where I’d find my posh hotel room. So this immersion in Maori culture, coupled with (really, inseparable from) a foray into nature, was eye-opening; New Zealand’s Maori heritage is fascinating and I was continually at a loss for words for the amazing sights along the river (think Jurassic Park-style foliage and wild waterfalls). And I couldn’t have asked for better ambassadors to New Zealand than my Maori hosts, all community leaders as well as tour operators.

In addition to learning the rhythm of rowing (in my boat, we choreographed our movements to the tune of “Happy Birthday,” which a fellow traveler from Spain joyfully sang to…no one), we learned the etiquette for arriving at and departing maraes, particularly the protocol for the powhiri. This welcome ceremony begins with a karanga, or a woman’s call, and continues through to the hongi, when you press your nose and forehead to marae keepers’ faces to exchange the breath of life.

The effect is very intimate, and it cleared the way for an evening of shared meals, drinks, and even a common room for sleeping, complete with bedtime stories about our reasons for finding ourselves there. Much like the karanga call, listening to our hosts talk about their backgrounds, ancestors, and devotion to the Maori culture and the environment was mesmerizing. Each of our guides spoke eloquently about their personal experiences as Maoris and as New Zealanders, and our serious conversations were punctuated with peals of laughter.

When I think about my days on the river, I hear the women welcoming us with beautiful, haunting voices echoing off the water and sheep-dotted hills, and I know that, appropriately enough, these sirens will call me back sometime. I’m thankful that I got to experience Whanganui country, and I’m even more thankful that I got to see it through the eyes of some of its incredible people.

My favorite thing about traveling is that it always seems to open me up to forging new and unusual friendships. Who are some of the unforgettable people you’ve met on trips?