Hello again! Time flies as they say and I sit here only a short week away from leaving this beautiful country! I cannot believe that a full month has passed. We've crammed a lot of miles into our time here. Soon we will leave the majestic mountains and beaches of tiny New Zealand for the grandeur and wide open spaces of Australia. But there is much left to tell you of our trip in the South Island. Let's get started then...
After leaving the base of Fox Glacier, we headed out for a much anticipated visit to Queenstown and Milford Sound. Queenstown has been advertised as the action sport capital of the world - a place where you can buy a package that takes you skydiving, bungy jumping and whitewater rafting - all in the same day! Sadly (or conveniently depending on how you look at it), I don't have that kind of cash to blow so we were headed there for the scenery more than anything else.
On our way to Milford Sound, we spent a great night in a little place called Glenorchy. It's about an hour outside of Queenstown, nestled next to a lake of stunning blue only diminished by the majestic peaks of the mountains surrounding it. The drive to the town was incredible. We also spent a fun filled night at the only pub in town - a tiny joint attached to the Glenorchy Hotel. Lisa managed to stumble into a free Texas Hold 'Em tournament and I got to talk to the local crowd made up mostly of people working for adventure companies (skydiving, rafting etc) or people in town to partake in the adventures offered. We met a great couple from Sweden about our age who shared with us some great stories about traveling abroad and living in Sweden. It was an all around enjoyable night (even if Lisa didn't win the big $40 bar tab pot for the tournament!).
The next day, filled up on the amazing Fergburger's Burger (Desirae's suggestion), we headed for Te Anau - the gateway to Fjordland in the southwest of the island. When we arrived the sky was overcast but the lady at the information office said that is to be expected. We had decided to take a "mini-cruise" in Milford Sound. I had vague images from a TV special many months earlier concerning Milford Sound but my attention span for the show - and our guidebooks - had waned long before Milford Sound had been adequately described. I didn't know much about the sound other than it was a body of water carved out by glaciers and led to the Tasman Sea. Anyway, we booked the cruise and hit the road to spend the night at Gunn's Camp which was as close as we could get to Milford but still and hour away.
Gunn's Camp was an interesting place in itself. Barebones and basic, the camp power was a giant generator that was shut down every night at 10:30. We would have enjoyed it more had there been more sunny and less rain...
6:30 am comes early no matter what hemisphere you are in. I had woken up several times in the night to the sound of pounding rain and dawn was no different. The sky was a depressing shade of gray. How were we going to see anything in this rain?
We drove the last hour to Milford in soggy silence. The land began to open up and even in the rainy mist, an intriguing landscape began to come to light. The mountains were formed from some dark rock. Shear cliffs and slick rock faces surrounded us. From these jagged peaks hundreds of of waterfalls sprang and toppled downward. The shear number and height of these falls was astounding. The mountains seemed to be where the low clouds were emerging from. Every crevice and cliff seemed to give birth to a gray or white cloud.
And every mountainside was streaked with waterfalls. Most were dainty - a sliver of cascading water as thin as a loose thread on a shirt. They looked like wrinkles on the ancient mountain faces.
We watched in wonder as these silver springs continued the length of the great valley we drove through. After a nerve-racking drive through a tunnel carved from this enormous mountain of stone (even Lisa admitted it was uncomfortable - I was so happy it was her turn to drive!), we emerged on the opposite side. Milford Sound lay directly ahead of us - or it would have had it not been cloaked in thick clouds and pouring rain.
We went straight to the reception area to find out what our options were. It seemed a shame to pay $60 for a replay of the soggy hike to Fox Glacier. We were told that we could postpone our departure time for a later cruise and hope that the rain was just a passing phase.
It was not. We postponed until 11:30 and parked our van among other travelers waiting on the same thing - the sun. After a quick nap we woke to - you guessed it - more rain. We postponed again until 1:50.
This time we headed to the little cafe to kill time. We drank coffee and played darts all the while anxiously watching the weather. At 1:30 we were sitting in our van watching as rain gave way to momentary sunlight and then poured forth again.
After much discussion, we decided to fore go the cruise. What good would it be if we couldn't see for the rain? Once more I returned to the reception area. By now the lady behind the desk had a look on her face somewhere between exhaustion and exasperation when I walked up. I told her we wanted a refund - the rain just wouldn't give. She looked at me with a degree of pity, "it rains 200 days out of the year. The boats covered. You'll be upset if you drove all this way and don't go." Something told me she was right.
Less than 15 minutes later we boarded the small vessel and took our seats and the free coffee they offered. The boat wasn't large by any means. It held about 75 people max but with the inclement weather there might have been 35 passengers at the most.
The main area was enclosed with windows all around. The bow and stern were open as was a small deck on top. Early on we made friends with two Israeli guys our age and spent most of the cruise talking to them.
As soon as we got on the water any thoughts of $60 wasted disappeared. Light rain accompanied us most of the way but if anything it added to this surreal experience.
As previously noted, I had little respect for glaciers prior to this trip but I had seen my share of pictures and knew what to expect in short if not exactly. And I've perused many photo albums and coffee table books brimming with pictures of beaches that, while dim in comparison to seeing the beach firsthand, at least primed my imagination for such experiences. However, I had never seen nor read about what I saw on that small ship. Granted I had seen photos of a singular waterfall plummeting into a crystal pool but never had I seen or read about hundreds of waterfalls from slivers of silver to gushing torrents of frothy water bursting off of shadowy rock and diving directly into the ocean. The grandeur of the Sound prevents anyone with less than a very expensive wide angle lensed camera from even capturing it on film.
But it wasn't just the waterfalls, it was the cliffs of pure stone, cracked and molded into an element so powerful it seemed statuesque. It was the trees clinging directly to the rock face, supporting the roots of each other creating a forest with no dirt, an amazing proof of Life's indescribable will to prevail, to continue, to expand.
Green trees thriving on their pure will to survive, granite rock withstanding ice and wind and rain, the gray-green ocean patiently prying away at the mountains and elegant, powerful waterfalls crowning it all with their numerous plummets into the sea - that is Milford Sound. A place I never knew existed until I took the advice of a stranger to get on a boat I felt sure was destined for gloomy skies and pouring rain. In a word, it was magical - like the first time you find a hidden tree house as a child, a place thats awesome qualities are unexpected and therefore all the more wonderful. All of the boats occupants looked child-like gazing up at the peaks clothed in clouds from which magical waters sprang.
Lisa and I spent as much time outside as possible. The rain became refreshing instead of depressing. It would have been different had the sun been out - not better, just different.
The cruise was over too soon. Back on land, I marveled at the surprises that this world has to offer if only you will look past the rain...
More to come later. Miss you all from the road...
Friday, February 29, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Finding Beauty
Coming from the Panhandle of Texas, I considered myself an expert in extreme weather. Growing up in a place that saw 75 degree temperatures and brilliant blue skies one day only to be followed by freezing, blowing snow the next will make you feel that way. And as a former resident of Hawaii - known equally for it's dramatic green mountains and it's flat golden beaches - I thought myself well-versed in extreme geographic changes as well. However neither the Texas weather nor Hawaii's beauty could have prepared me for the things I've seen this week.
To look at New Zealand on a map isn’t that impressive. Two islands, diminutive in size when compared to their nearest continental neighbor, Australia. But if traveling in a minivan that has a bed, dining area and entertainment room has taught me one thing it’s this – you can pack a lot of stuff into a small place.
When I last left you we were budding residents of the Hang Dog, which would incidentally become just as addictive as our host had warned us on our first night.
Since then much has changed. I am sitting now in the well-equipped and completely middle-classed Holiday Park in Fox Glacier (the town, not the actual glacier).
If you’ve got a moment get out a map of New Zealand and check out the distance between Abel Tasman (the most Northwestern corner of the South Island) and Fox Glacier (about a four or five hour drive down the West Coast). It’s not very far – just far enough to realize that beauty comes in all shapes, forms and textures.
I’m no artist but I got an appreciation for color this week. We’ll start on Wednesday. After a restful night at the Hang Dog Lisa and I got up and headed for Totaranui – the gateway to the Abel Tasman Coastal Track. The track is a hike which had been suggested by guidebooks and word-of-mouth alike. No amount of prose or talk could have prepared us for what lay in store.
I can’t take you to that place but this is the closest I can get. It’s an excerpt from my journal written while actually laying on one of the most pristine and least crowded beaches I’ve ever laid eyes on.
To borrow a line from Jimmy Buffet – “There’s this one particular harbor. And I happen to be there right now. When God began creating colors for the world this is where He came to create blue.
The hike to get here (which followed a drive that would turn the most seasoned rollercoaster fan green about the gills) crept and crawled through humid, dense rainforest. Suddenly the dust path would give way to sand and there she would be – the Sea. I have stood on her shores as she raged against the coastline. I have watched her pound into age old rocks and slyly steal away the earth one grain at a time. But here – here she puts on her most dazzling blue dress and waltzes with the earth in translucent waves. She dances across the golden sands. It is as if the Sea is smiling here – and the whole earth smiles with her.
There are shades of blue in the water that man has yet to name. I can’t describe it other than to say that there is no where in the world that you can climb out of a cab or stumble from some fluorescent lit hotel and see this. It must be – at least to the smallest degree – sought after and pursued.
That beach was all a girl chasing summer could hope for. Granted the water was a tad chilly but the complete isolation and the golden warmth of the sun put me right into the mindset to listen to Jimmy Buffet tunes and drink something frozen with an umbrella in it.
Now flash forward to today. Following yet another guidebook must-do and more hear-say, Lisa and I traveled down the coast in pursuit of something I have heard of but never actually seen. Today the girl chasing summer took a detour on the road to sandy beaches and found herself at the base of winter’s most daunting and timeless ally – a glacier.
Now this may sound a little silly but before today a glacier was something that did not command the correct amount of respect from me. They were simply large blocks of moving ice. Very sslllooowww moving ice. Very distant very slow moving blocks of ice…You get the point. But after today – that is a completely different story.
A glacier tour around here will run you about $85 New Zealand. They give you some sturdy boots, clamp-on spikes for walking on the ice and rain gear (if you are smart enough to request it – I was not). Than a very good looking guy straight off a Bounty Paper Towel commercial swings a pickax over his shoulder and leads you through a quick hike onto the glacier for amazing views and lots of pictures. Well – that’s what the brochure said. In reality, Mr. Bounty takes you from your bus into a driving rain shower where your Scotch-guarded, budget-friendly Adidas windbreaker becomes immediately obsolete and your camera is tucked away in layers of material in hopes that the torrential downpour won’t leak through your already damp backpack. I’ll admit – 25 minutes into our 4 hour tramp I was thinking that $85 would have been much better spent on a new raincoat and a cup of hot chocolate than tramping through dense undergrowth following some lunatic with a pickax that seemed to think this was just a normal walk on a lovely afternoon.
The rain even dampened my first glimpses of the glacier but as we neared the monster (which is about 13 km in length – you get to convert that to miles) I must say that I became much more interested in that slow moving block of ice.
By its very nature a glacier is an enormous and intimidating sight. I’ve often seen ice conforming to the land be it a slick layer on a road or a thick sheet on top of a pond or water tank but never have I seen the land conforming to the ice. This glacier is not a result of a force of nature – it is a force of nature itself cutting a slow path to the ocean, leaving a carved valley in its wake.
By the time we reached the base (sopping wet to my very skin) and put our cramp-ons onto our boots, you could see the rocks and dirt that had been drug into the ice and smoothed out. Deep, dramatic cracks appeared giving the glacier a strange appearance as if it was a gushing river frozen in an instant instead of a huge formation made slowly and deliberately over hundreds of years.
We tromped, completely wet and half frozen, onto the ice which displayed shades of white and blue that equaled the purity – if not the shade – of the ocean I had seen just days before.
Mr. Bounty, in all his good lumberjack-like appeal, made walking on the monster while swinging his pickax look romantic, heroic even. This little Texas farm girl with soaking wet pants and boots much too wide for her feet made walking on the ice look like – well, walking on ice. My movements were so calculated and over exaggerated that I must have looked like Bambi on ice minus the endearing cuteness.
Despite my graceless movements, I was becoming enthralled with my surroundings. The same substance that I had so recently swam in was solid all around me. I marveled at the fact that the ocean’s blue had looked so warm and inviting but the same color (albeit a different shade) was stony and cold. But no less beautiful.
Water from the recent rain and ever present melting factors had washed out tunnels and created new, impromptu streams on the glacier surface. The air was surprisingly moderate – the coldest part at the edges of the glacier where an ever present wind chilled the surroundings. Walls of ice rose up like false waves made of glass. The terrain quickly and constantly changed. The rain had stopped at the base and held off for as long as we were on the ice. Here were those views so talked about! A random ray of sunlight bounced off the distant end of the glacier creating a blinding white that must be about the same brilliance as the light seen at the end of many a metaphoric tunnel.
Walking back to the bus, my knees screamed in agony but my mind was too busy trying to put together words to describe what it had just seen to pay much attention. This is as close as I can get to describing it:
Beauty does not always mean comfort. Beauty is an awe-inspiring, mind-altering sight that is beyond comprehension and outside our realm of understanding. It is as simple a wave washing up on a deserted shoreline and as complex as a sold wall of ice so hard that time cannot stop its progress.
Beauty is not always about your perspective but also about your ability to perceive. It is timeless and effortless. And sometimes you’ll find it on a warm ray of sunlight, a guidebook suggestion or in the tracks of Mr. Bounty’s freshly carved ice steps.
I hope you are all doing well and enjoying the beauty around you as well. Our time grows short - only a week in New Zealand! Time flies here just as quickly as it did in the Northern Hemisphere.
Love from the road...
To look at New Zealand on a map isn’t that impressive. Two islands, diminutive in size when compared to their nearest continental neighbor, Australia. But if traveling in a minivan that has a bed, dining area and entertainment room has taught me one thing it’s this – you can pack a lot of stuff into a small place.
When I last left you we were budding residents of the Hang Dog, which would incidentally become just as addictive as our host had warned us on our first night.
Since then much has changed. I am sitting now in the well-equipped and completely middle-classed Holiday Park in Fox Glacier (the town, not the actual glacier).
If you’ve got a moment get out a map of New Zealand and check out the distance between Abel Tasman (the most Northwestern corner of the South Island) and Fox Glacier (about a four or five hour drive down the West Coast). It’s not very far – just far enough to realize that beauty comes in all shapes, forms and textures.
I’m no artist but I got an appreciation for color this week. We’ll start on Wednesday. After a restful night at the Hang Dog Lisa and I got up and headed for Totaranui – the gateway to the Abel Tasman Coastal Track. The track is a hike which had been suggested by guidebooks and word-of-mouth alike. No amount of prose or talk could have prepared us for what lay in store.
I can’t take you to that place but this is the closest I can get. It’s an excerpt from my journal written while actually laying on one of the most pristine and least crowded beaches I’ve ever laid eyes on.
To borrow a line from Jimmy Buffet – “There’s this one particular harbor. And I happen to be there right now. When God began creating colors for the world this is where He came to create blue.
The hike to get here (which followed a drive that would turn the most seasoned rollercoaster fan green about the gills) crept and crawled through humid, dense rainforest. Suddenly the dust path would give way to sand and there she would be – the Sea. I have stood on her shores as she raged against the coastline. I have watched her pound into age old rocks and slyly steal away the earth one grain at a time. But here – here she puts on her most dazzling blue dress and waltzes with the earth in translucent waves. She dances across the golden sands. It is as if the Sea is smiling here – and the whole earth smiles with her.
There are shades of blue in the water that man has yet to name. I can’t describe it other than to say that there is no where in the world that you can climb out of a cab or stumble from some fluorescent lit hotel and see this. It must be – at least to the smallest degree – sought after and pursued.
That beach was all a girl chasing summer could hope for. Granted the water was a tad chilly but the complete isolation and the golden warmth of the sun put me right into the mindset to listen to Jimmy Buffet tunes and drink something frozen with an umbrella in it.
Now flash forward to today. Following yet another guidebook must-do and more hear-say, Lisa and I traveled down the coast in pursuit of something I have heard of but never actually seen. Today the girl chasing summer took a detour on the road to sandy beaches and found herself at the base of winter’s most daunting and timeless ally – a glacier.
Now this may sound a little silly but before today a glacier was something that did not command the correct amount of respect from me. They were simply large blocks of moving ice. Very sslllooowww moving ice. Very distant very slow moving blocks of ice…You get the point. But after today – that is a completely different story.
A glacier tour around here will run you about $85 New Zealand. They give you some sturdy boots, clamp-on spikes for walking on the ice and rain gear (if you are smart enough to request it – I was not). Than a very good looking guy straight off a Bounty Paper Towel commercial swings a pickax over his shoulder and leads you through a quick hike onto the glacier for amazing views and lots of pictures. Well – that’s what the brochure said. In reality, Mr. Bounty takes you from your bus into a driving rain shower where your Scotch-guarded, budget-friendly Adidas windbreaker becomes immediately obsolete and your camera is tucked away in layers of material in hopes that the torrential downpour won’t leak through your already damp backpack. I’ll admit – 25 minutes into our 4 hour tramp I was thinking that $85 would have been much better spent on a new raincoat and a cup of hot chocolate than tramping through dense undergrowth following some lunatic with a pickax that seemed to think this was just a normal walk on a lovely afternoon.
The rain even dampened my first glimpses of the glacier but as we neared the monster (which is about 13 km in length – you get to convert that to miles) I must say that I became much more interested in that slow moving block of ice.
By its very nature a glacier is an enormous and intimidating sight. I’ve often seen ice conforming to the land be it a slick layer on a road or a thick sheet on top of a pond or water tank but never have I seen the land conforming to the ice. This glacier is not a result of a force of nature – it is a force of nature itself cutting a slow path to the ocean, leaving a carved valley in its wake.
By the time we reached the base (sopping wet to my very skin) and put our cramp-ons onto our boots, you could see the rocks and dirt that had been drug into the ice and smoothed out. Deep, dramatic cracks appeared giving the glacier a strange appearance as if it was a gushing river frozen in an instant instead of a huge formation made slowly and deliberately over hundreds of years.
We tromped, completely wet and half frozen, onto the ice which displayed shades of white and blue that equaled the purity – if not the shade – of the ocean I had seen just days before.
Mr. Bounty, in all his good lumberjack-like appeal, made walking on the monster while swinging his pickax look romantic, heroic even. This little Texas farm girl with soaking wet pants and boots much too wide for her feet made walking on the ice look like – well, walking on ice. My movements were so calculated and over exaggerated that I must have looked like Bambi on ice minus the endearing cuteness.
Despite my graceless movements, I was becoming enthralled with my surroundings. The same substance that I had so recently swam in was solid all around me. I marveled at the fact that the ocean’s blue had looked so warm and inviting but the same color (albeit a different shade) was stony and cold. But no less beautiful.
Water from the recent rain and ever present melting factors had washed out tunnels and created new, impromptu streams on the glacier surface. The air was surprisingly moderate – the coldest part at the edges of the glacier where an ever present wind chilled the surroundings. Walls of ice rose up like false waves made of glass. The terrain quickly and constantly changed. The rain had stopped at the base and held off for as long as we were on the ice. Here were those views so talked about! A random ray of sunlight bounced off the distant end of the glacier creating a blinding white that must be about the same brilliance as the light seen at the end of many a metaphoric tunnel.
Walking back to the bus, my knees screamed in agony but my mind was too busy trying to put together words to describe what it had just seen to pay much attention. This is as close as I can get to describing it:
Beauty does not always mean comfort. Beauty is an awe-inspiring, mind-altering sight that is beyond comprehension and outside our realm of understanding. It is as simple a wave washing up on a deserted shoreline and as complex as a sold wall of ice so hard that time cannot stop its progress.
Beauty is not always about your perspective but also about your ability to perceive. It is timeless and effortless. And sometimes you’ll find it on a warm ray of sunlight, a guidebook suggestion or in the tracks of Mr. Bounty’s freshly carved ice steps.
I hope you are all doing well and enjoying the beauty around you as well. Our time grows short - only a week in New Zealand! Time flies here just as quickly as it did in the Northern Hemisphere.
Love from the road...
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Oh The People You'll Meet...
I think I last left you in Wellington. The city was a nice break from van living and we were able to meet up with Rose's friends Amy and Lucy - a couple of great girls that were more than accomodating. We enjoyed the use of the flat (house for us non-Kiwi's) Lucy is housesitting right now. All laundered up and clean we headed out for the South Island early Monday morning.
I could write a novel about the ferry ride alone but that's one of those stories you'll have to buy the book for. :) Our arrival to the South Island was rather gloomy due to weather so we partook in the local wineries to cheer ourselves up. I must say it worked.
Our destination Monday was Takaka. It's a small town close to the Abel Tasmen National Park - a place supposedly full of great scenery and far-flung beaches void of Waikiki's crowds. Back in Hawaii we had met a girl named Liz - a rock climbing, canoe paddling, ripped chick with a personality to match. She had been our rock climbing instructor and upon hearing we were headed to New Zealand made a couple of "must see" suggestions. The one that stuck out in my mind was the climbing at Payne's Ford right by Takaka. It would be a great place to try out my new rock climbing shoes. She said if we ended up there we had to stay at the Hang Dog camp ground.
Now I'm not sure what I expected from a place that came on high recommendations from a chick who I met while hanging from a rope on a cliff in Hawaii but you could say I was - well - surprised.
Unlike your run of the mill "Holiday Park" (fancy campgrounds here in New Zealand) with organized areas for tents and vans and large spick-n-span kitchens and toilets, the Hang Dog was casual, scattered and loose. A mix of hobo homestays and hippy comforts. There were no assigned parking spots - just a dozen or so rented vans scattered about. Tents popped up here and there, clothing was strung up on make-shift cloths lines with odd pieces hanging from the broken down fences scattered about the campground.
We inquired about fees, etc in a small office attached to a bunk house of sorts for those occupants willing to pay a whopping $12 as compared to the $5 per person required for a simple van-living vagabond like myself.
The office was untidy with a rack of used climbing shoes for rent running the length of one wall. A stranger who was sitting among a group on the porch drinking beer and strumming guitars came forward when we found the office empty.
"Zou jus sign ze book I zink," She said pointing to a sign in sheet that required our names, nationality and whether we preferred broccoli or cabbage. She disappeared around the desk as if she owned the place and reappeared with a girl about my age whose persona spoke of motherly care and rebel aggression all wrapped up in a loose yellow skirt, layered tank tops and dreadlocked hair. She smiled and said, "Let me show you around" in an easy British accent.
She took me and Lisa around to the toilets (two of them - no lights with walls made of dry-erase boards and covered in comments on how to gain "Hippy Points"as well as several well-written original poems), the shower (which cost an extra $1 - if you don't shower you don't have to pay!), the outdoor kitchen and sinks and finally the slack line (a rock climbing term) in the common area surrounded by tents.
Our host told us that they would be hanging out later that night in the back of the office and we should swing by. Our short conversation also led to her asking how long we were staying which we replied to with our canned responces of "Not sure. A couple of days maybe?" She laughed - "Couple of weeks more like it. I came here for one day. Been here a month and now I run the place." She walked off with the undisputed air of confidence found in freedom of expression.
We parked the van in a shady spot close to the bathrooms and got organized. People wandered to and fro always saying hello and stopping to talk to other campers. The place had a cozy feel you can't get in a sterilized kitchen or cinder block shower.
The occupants of the camp were a varied group as far as nationality and physical features went. There were mostly guys, shirtless and muscular from climbing dressed in board shorts or linen pants. Dreadlocks were more than abundant. The girls were athletic as well dressed for comfort in capris or skirts. Most everyone spoke English and most everyone's accent was different. I was in culture shock heaven.
We cruised up to the office and picked our way to the back. Zephy (our hostess) introduced us to a circle of people who were sitting around her living quarters. Her boyfriend, Thomas, by far the most dreadlocked and pierced person yet, was very friendly with and award winning smile. There was a Dutch girl dying her hair and outrageous - but somehow fitting - platinum blonde and an American with a short mohawk and sullen expression. As we sat chatting and listening to Katchafire and Bob Marley tunes, more people came in. There was a sweet British girl who reminded me of a younger Ann Crooks and her Scottish boyfriend - both avid climbers. There was an Irish chick smoking roll-your-owns and cracking everyone up with stories about medical mishaps that she had heard. A cocky young guy from Vermont full of himself and his good looks made me cringe with his cockiness and comments about Texans rarely leaving home. A constant stream of comers and goers flowed in and out. For Lisa and I it was like being invited to sit in on some odd social experiment where my generation was allowed to run free without social restraints, predjudices or adult supervision. I fit in like a punk rocker at a Mary Kay convention but no one seemed to notice or care.
We answered the obligatory questions of "where are you from? where are you headed" and "how long are you here?" a million times. The answers are like breathing by now - automatic and effortless.
The night drew to a close for Lisa and I but everyone else lingered on. Even though it had been a long day, I had no desire for a shower and just for laughs, I even wrote a poem I considered writing on the bathroom wall:
"Going with the flow isn't something that you do
It is something that society does unto you
This life ain't no mystery - it ain't no simple rhyme
It's just little bits of history we make a moment at a time..."
Maybe I'm a van living hippy at heart after all. Reguardless I did figure out that getting out of your comfort zone isn't as difficult or as painful as expected. Most everyone has a comfort zone that they are happy to let you into.
Don't worry Mom - no dreadlocks yet!
Peace and love from the road... :)
I could write a novel about the ferry ride alone but that's one of those stories you'll have to buy the book for. :) Our arrival to the South Island was rather gloomy due to weather so we partook in the local wineries to cheer ourselves up. I must say it worked.
Our destination Monday was Takaka. It's a small town close to the Abel Tasmen National Park - a place supposedly full of great scenery and far-flung beaches void of Waikiki's crowds. Back in Hawaii we had met a girl named Liz - a rock climbing, canoe paddling, ripped chick with a personality to match. She had been our rock climbing instructor and upon hearing we were headed to New Zealand made a couple of "must see" suggestions. The one that stuck out in my mind was the climbing at Payne's Ford right by Takaka. It would be a great place to try out my new rock climbing shoes. She said if we ended up there we had to stay at the Hang Dog camp ground.
Now I'm not sure what I expected from a place that came on high recommendations from a chick who I met while hanging from a rope on a cliff in Hawaii but you could say I was - well - surprised.
Unlike your run of the mill "Holiday Park" (fancy campgrounds here in New Zealand) with organized areas for tents and vans and large spick-n-span kitchens and toilets, the Hang Dog was casual, scattered and loose. A mix of hobo homestays and hippy comforts. There were no assigned parking spots - just a dozen or so rented vans scattered about. Tents popped up here and there, clothing was strung up on make-shift cloths lines with odd pieces hanging from the broken down fences scattered about the campground.
We inquired about fees, etc in a small office attached to a bunk house of sorts for those occupants willing to pay a whopping $12 as compared to the $5 per person required for a simple van-living vagabond like myself.
The office was untidy with a rack of used climbing shoes for rent running the length of one wall. A stranger who was sitting among a group on the porch drinking beer and strumming guitars came forward when we found the office empty.
"Zou jus sign ze book I zink," She said pointing to a sign in sheet that required our names, nationality and whether we preferred broccoli or cabbage. She disappeared around the desk as if she owned the place and reappeared with a girl about my age whose persona spoke of motherly care and rebel aggression all wrapped up in a loose yellow skirt, layered tank tops and dreadlocked hair. She smiled and said, "Let me show you around" in an easy British accent.
She took me and Lisa around to the toilets (two of them - no lights with walls made of dry-erase boards and covered in comments on how to gain "Hippy Points"as well as several well-written original poems), the shower (which cost an extra $1 - if you don't shower you don't have to pay!), the outdoor kitchen and sinks and finally the slack line (a rock climbing term) in the common area surrounded by tents.
Our host told us that they would be hanging out later that night in the back of the office and we should swing by. Our short conversation also led to her asking how long we were staying which we replied to with our canned responces of "Not sure. A couple of days maybe?" She laughed - "Couple of weeks more like it. I came here for one day. Been here a month and now I run the place." She walked off with the undisputed air of confidence found in freedom of expression.
We parked the van in a shady spot close to the bathrooms and got organized. People wandered to and fro always saying hello and stopping to talk to other campers. The place had a cozy feel you can't get in a sterilized kitchen or cinder block shower.
The occupants of the camp were a varied group as far as nationality and physical features went. There were mostly guys, shirtless and muscular from climbing dressed in board shorts or linen pants. Dreadlocks were more than abundant. The girls were athletic as well dressed for comfort in capris or skirts. Most everyone spoke English and most everyone's accent was different. I was in culture shock heaven.
We cruised up to the office and picked our way to the back. Zephy (our hostess) introduced us to a circle of people who were sitting around her living quarters. Her boyfriend, Thomas, by far the most dreadlocked and pierced person yet, was very friendly with and award winning smile. There was a Dutch girl dying her hair and outrageous - but somehow fitting - platinum blonde and an American with a short mohawk and sullen expression. As we sat chatting and listening to Katchafire and Bob Marley tunes, more people came in. There was a sweet British girl who reminded me of a younger Ann Crooks and her Scottish boyfriend - both avid climbers. There was an Irish chick smoking roll-your-owns and cracking everyone up with stories about medical mishaps that she had heard. A cocky young guy from Vermont full of himself and his good looks made me cringe with his cockiness and comments about Texans rarely leaving home. A constant stream of comers and goers flowed in and out. For Lisa and I it was like being invited to sit in on some odd social experiment where my generation was allowed to run free without social restraints, predjudices or adult supervision. I fit in like a punk rocker at a Mary Kay convention but no one seemed to notice or care.
We answered the obligatory questions of "where are you from? where are you headed" and "how long are you here?" a million times. The answers are like breathing by now - automatic and effortless.
The night drew to a close for Lisa and I but everyone else lingered on. Even though it had been a long day, I had no desire for a shower and just for laughs, I even wrote a poem I considered writing on the bathroom wall:
"Going with the flow isn't something that you do
It is something that society does unto you
This life ain't no mystery - it ain't no simple rhyme
It's just little bits of history we make a moment at a time..."
Maybe I'm a van living hippy at heart after all. Reguardless I did figure out that getting out of your comfort zone isn't as difficult or as painful as expected. Most everyone has a comfort zone that they are happy to let you into.
Don't worry Mom - no dreadlocks yet!
Peace and love from the road... :)
Friday, February 15, 2008
To Tongariro and Back...
Howdy from Wellington. We just got in a bit ago - enough time for a quick lunch and shower. Meeting some of Rose's friends tonight so we are really excited. PS (mostly for Cali) - I just blew my hair dry and yes - it was wonderful! I look like a real person instead of a dirty van-living hippy!
We've had a good couple of days but I wanted to be sure and post a recent experience. This took place a couple of days ago. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing and living it!
Thursday morning was an early one. We were up at 6:15 to pack for the 6 hour hike in front of us. We had spent the night in a village called Whakapapa and had arranged for a bus to pick us up early that morning and then return us to our van that afternoon. We were heading out for the Tangoriro Crossing - marketed as the best day hike in New Zealand and confirmed as so by Desirae.
We reached the trail head at 7:30 am and headed out. At first the land was pretty but far from spectacular. Thick shrubs covered teh low hills. Tiny purple flowers looked almost radiant against the settting of drab browns and drying greens. Lisa and I lamented the lack of sunlinght - photos come out so much better in beautiful rays of sunlight. Little did we know how happy we would be for the cool of the missing sun!
In the distance a large volcanic mountain rose before us. Shrouded in low, quick moving clouds and mystery for the first half hour, it became increasingly present as we walked on.
There were many hikers like us all donning polar fleece coats and some with walking sticks or trekking poles.
The first obstacle came as no surprise. After crossing a flat area we began to ascend the Devil's Staircase. Our bus driver that morning had warned us that this was the most trying part of our hike. Jagged rocks and great boulders made finding footing tedious while the continous steep uphill climb wore on your legs and the change in altitude toar at your lungs.
A short distance up, a nice Scottish man in his late 50's scampered up behind me and kept up friendly conversation until the trail widened enough for him to pass the two gasping Americans as if we were standing still. He was wearing only shorts and a light t-shirt - obvious signs of his dilapidated sanity or his amazing physical health. Maybe both. We trudged on.
Above us now towered the volcanic cone of Mt. ___. This volcano erupted a mere 500 years ago causing most of the formations, craters and colors we would see that day. The mountain itself was a ruddy red color with black shadowing. There was no vegetation. A sign at the top of the dreaded staircase said that you could hike to the peak and back in 3 hours. Only if you had a deathwish, I thought. The Scottish man and his son hurried past unable to contain their excitement to start up the mountain.
Midway up the staircase, I commented to Lisa that I doubted this path led to Hell because I was almost certain Hell would be more easily accessed. But we survived the climb and were granted a sunlit view of the valley below and the mountain above. The scenery had graduated from pretty to gorgeous in one ridiculously hard climb.
We then trekked across a barren crater that resembled what Mars must look like up close. We had the promise of a bus waiting for us on the other side of this hike to take us quickly back to our comfortable van. I can't imagine the courage of the men in the past that trekked this way with a pack of food and faith alone.
We started up another steep hill and that is when the wind hit. Gusty and treacherous, it blew around us in playful wips. Lisa tied her sarong to her head to protect her ears, giving her a Himalayan sharpa look. Add me and Boo's red bandana to that and we looked every bit the true travelers.
We crested the peak in blistering winds and got a good look at a horizon that was amazing in scale. The land below looked foggy and insignificant from here. Like a dream you have just before waking - the details a tangle of mist and sunlight.
Up, up, up. The wind was really whipping now! A straight drop on one side led to a crater that the brochure map warned "you would not come out of" should you fall orbe windblown into it. By this point my butt felt like an anchor so I was not too concerned with the windblown prospect nor was I brave enough to get too close to the edge.
Finally we reached our peak - and oh what a summitt it was. To our right was a crevice deep and jagged cut from a rich and somehow terrifying red rock. It was initimidating. Straight ahead but far below us were three lakes glistening in the patchy sunlight. The ground here was loose and when you add to that the gusty wind our descent was interesting to put it lightly.
The nearer we got to the lakes, the more vibrant their colors became. Much like the other sulfur infused bodies of water we've seen, the colors were living, vibrant shades of blue and green. The land was so bare around them that the colors absolutely lept out of them, pouring into your eyes like a sudden splash of color on a blank canvas.
We crossed another crater, dried lava flows creating an odd formation like a childs spilled Koolaid on a flat countertop.
The last lake and the largest was gloomy due to cloud cover so on we marched. Slowly life reclaimed the barren landscape. Flowers appeared and tufts of grass. The rocks and boulders gave way to sloping hillsides with periodic streams winding down.
I could bore you with the descent - how hard it was on my knees, how we wound up in a humid forest whose towering mossy trees seemed somehow stark and weak in comparison to the beauty we had just passed to get there. But I want to leave you with every ounce of amazement that I can give you.
Think about the phrase "breathtaking" and how we have commercialized and retailed it into just another word - then scrap all that and remember a moment when you turned your head, opened your eyes and truly lost your breath from the beauty you beheld.
That was today for me. It could have been the altitude or the difficulty of the hike - but no. It wasn't.
It was the beauty from the top...
Miss you all from the road...
We've had a good couple of days but I wanted to be sure and post a recent experience. This took place a couple of days ago. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing and living it!
Thursday morning was an early one. We were up at 6:15 to pack for the 6 hour hike in front of us. We had spent the night in a village called Whakapapa and had arranged for a bus to pick us up early that morning and then return us to our van that afternoon. We were heading out for the Tangoriro Crossing - marketed as the best day hike in New Zealand and confirmed as so by Desirae.
We reached the trail head at 7:30 am and headed out. At first the land was pretty but far from spectacular. Thick shrubs covered teh low hills. Tiny purple flowers looked almost radiant against the settting of drab browns and drying greens. Lisa and I lamented the lack of sunlinght - photos come out so much better in beautiful rays of sunlight. Little did we know how happy we would be for the cool of the missing sun!
In the distance a large volcanic mountain rose before us. Shrouded in low, quick moving clouds and mystery for the first half hour, it became increasingly present as we walked on.
There were many hikers like us all donning polar fleece coats and some with walking sticks or trekking poles.
The first obstacle came as no surprise. After crossing a flat area we began to ascend the Devil's Staircase. Our bus driver that morning had warned us that this was the most trying part of our hike. Jagged rocks and great boulders made finding footing tedious while the continous steep uphill climb wore on your legs and the change in altitude toar at your lungs.
A short distance up, a nice Scottish man in his late 50's scampered up behind me and kept up friendly conversation until the trail widened enough for him to pass the two gasping Americans as if we were standing still. He was wearing only shorts and a light t-shirt - obvious signs of his dilapidated sanity or his amazing physical health. Maybe both. We trudged on.
Above us now towered the volcanic cone of Mt. ___. This volcano erupted a mere 500 years ago causing most of the formations, craters and colors we would see that day. The mountain itself was a ruddy red color with black shadowing. There was no vegetation. A sign at the top of the dreaded staircase said that you could hike to the peak and back in 3 hours. Only if you had a deathwish, I thought. The Scottish man and his son hurried past unable to contain their excitement to start up the mountain.
Midway up the staircase, I commented to Lisa that I doubted this path led to Hell because I was almost certain Hell would be more easily accessed. But we survived the climb and were granted a sunlit view of the valley below and the mountain above. The scenery had graduated from pretty to gorgeous in one ridiculously hard climb.
We then trekked across a barren crater that resembled what Mars must look like up close. We had the promise of a bus waiting for us on the other side of this hike to take us quickly back to our comfortable van. I can't imagine the courage of the men in the past that trekked this way with a pack of food and faith alone.
We started up another steep hill and that is when the wind hit. Gusty and treacherous, it blew around us in playful wips. Lisa tied her sarong to her head to protect her ears, giving her a Himalayan sharpa look. Add me and Boo's red bandana to that and we looked every bit the true travelers.
We crested the peak in blistering winds and got a good look at a horizon that was amazing in scale. The land below looked foggy and insignificant from here. Like a dream you have just before waking - the details a tangle of mist and sunlight.
Up, up, up. The wind was really whipping now! A straight drop on one side led to a crater that the brochure map warned "you would not come out of" should you fall orbe windblown into it. By this point my butt felt like an anchor so I was not too concerned with the windblown prospect nor was I brave enough to get too close to the edge.
Finally we reached our peak - and oh what a summitt it was. To our right was a crevice deep and jagged cut from a rich and somehow terrifying red rock. It was initimidating. Straight ahead but far below us were three lakes glistening in the patchy sunlight. The ground here was loose and when you add to that the gusty wind our descent was interesting to put it lightly.
The nearer we got to the lakes, the more vibrant their colors became. Much like the other sulfur infused bodies of water we've seen, the colors were living, vibrant shades of blue and green. The land was so bare around them that the colors absolutely lept out of them, pouring into your eyes like a sudden splash of color on a blank canvas.
We crossed another crater, dried lava flows creating an odd formation like a childs spilled Koolaid on a flat countertop.
The last lake and the largest was gloomy due to cloud cover so on we marched. Slowly life reclaimed the barren landscape. Flowers appeared and tufts of grass. The rocks and boulders gave way to sloping hillsides with periodic streams winding down.
I could bore you with the descent - how hard it was on my knees, how we wound up in a humid forest whose towering mossy trees seemed somehow stark and weak in comparison to the beauty we had just passed to get there. But I want to leave you with every ounce of amazement that I can give you.
Think about the phrase "breathtaking" and how we have commercialized and retailed it into just another word - then scrap all that and remember a moment when you turned your head, opened your eyes and truly lost your breath from the beauty you beheld.
That was today for me. It could have been the altitude or the difficulty of the hike - but no. It wasn't.
It was the beauty from the top...
Miss you all from the road...
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Sunshine and Good Times
It's amazing the difference a little sunshine can make! After several days of grey skies, we have finally seen the light. And there couldn't have been a better day for it...
When I last left you it was a rainy day in Auckland. The rain stayed with us on and off yesterday as we headed south towards Hamilton.
Hamilton was a cute little town full of pubs with names like The Bank, Sahara and even a Lone Star Cafe (of course we had to take pictures). A river runs through Hamilton and the people were so nice. After a walk through a free museum - complete with Moari artifacts and interactive childrens room that Lisa and I enjoyed tremedously - we headed back down the road. Destination - Rotorua. Home of hot springs, lakes, and geysers.
Rotorua was pretty even if it did smell of rotting eggs. Our activity for the night was a "Kiwi experience" at a place called Rainbow Springs. It's a park were they have live Kiwi birds. A kiwi is one of the funnest creatures you've ever seen. It's about the size of chicken, maybe a bit bigger, but with a body like an emu - large and bulky. They have no wings, a small head (no long neck like a emu though), and a very long skinny beak. We watched them feed - they are secretive animals and noctornal. Lisa scared one of them and it hauled butt across the pen - hilarious!! Quick fact for my animal lovers - a kiwi's egg is 1/3 it's body size and weighs half as much as it does! OUCH.
After a good nights rest, we got up and headed towards Taupo (there is a large lake there). We stopped at Wai-O-Taipo Thermal Park. It's an area covered in more geysers and these very awesome pools. The pools have cool names like "Artist's Pallet" because of the brillant colors that they display. The colors come from the sulfur and othere minerals rising from the earth's crust. The most amazing greens and blues. We took tons of pictures but that kind of place is hard to capture in photos.
We also stopped at a place called Haku Falls. Sweet place! The water in the river was this light sky blue color. I really thought it looked fake! It roars through this gorge and then shoots out into a beautiful blue lake. I have no idea how deep it is but the color of the sapphire water leads one to believe it is cold and deep!
Now we are in a place in Taupo. I love it here. The town has tons of indoor/outdoor cafe's and neat shops. Everyone is smiling due to the lovely weather but the best part is the lake. It's the most amazing shade of blue and it's enormous, the largest lake in New Zealand or Australia! I want so badly to take a boat out but it's way too expensive.
There is so much to tell. I know I've missed a lot. I've been keeping a detailed journal as well so someday I'll have this all written out and you can all buy it in my book! Hehe...
I miss all of you so much but this place is a great place to be. I hope all of you are doing well. Keep in touch.
Love from the road
When I last left you it was a rainy day in Auckland. The rain stayed with us on and off yesterday as we headed south towards Hamilton.
Hamilton was a cute little town full of pubs with names like The Bank, Sahara and even a Lone Star Cafe (of course we had to take pictures). A river runs through Hamilton and the people were so nice. After a walk through a free museum - complete with Moari artifacts and interactive childrens room that Lisa and I enjoyed tremedously - we headed back down the road. Destination - Rotorua. Home of hot springs, lakes, and geysers.
Rotorua was pretty even if it did smell of rotting eggs. Our activity for the night was a "Kiwi experience" at a place called Rainbow Springs. It's a park were they have live Kiwi birds. A kiwi is one of the funnest creatures you've ever seen. It's about the size of chicken, maybe a bit bigger, but with a body like an emu - large and bulky. They have no wings, a small head (no long neck like a emu though), and a very long skinny beak. We watched them feed - they are secretive animals and noctornal. Lisa scared one of them and it hauled butt across the pen - hilarious!! Quick fact for my animal lovers - a kiwi's egg is 1/3 it's body size and weighs half as much as it does! OUCH.
After a good nights rest, we got up and headed towards Taupo (there is a large lake there). We stopped at Wai-O-Taipo Thermal Park. It's an area covered in more geysers and these very awesome pools. The pools have cool names like "Artist's Pallet" because of the brillant colors that they display. The colors come from the sulfur and othere minerals rising from the earth's crust. The most amazing greens and blues. We took tons of pictures but that kind of place is hard to capture in photos.
We also stopped at a place called Haku Falls. Sweet place! The water in the river was this light sky blue color. I really thought it looked fake! It roars through this gorge and then shoots out into a beautiful blue lake. I have no idea how deep it is but the color of the sapphire water leads one to believe it is cold and deep!
Now we are in a place in Taupo. I love it here. The town has tons of indoor/outdoor cafe's and neat shops. Everyone is smiling due to the lovely weather but the best part is the lake. It's the most amazing shade of blue and it's enormous, the largest lake in New Zealand or Australia! I want so badly to take a boat out but it's way too expensive.
There is so much to tell. I know I've missed a lot. I've been keeping a detailed journal as well so someday I'll have this all written out and you can all buy it in my book! Hehe...
I miss all of you so much but this place is a great place to be. I hope all of you are doing well. Keep in touch.
Love from the road
Monday, February 11, 2008
Two Minute Blog..
I'm running very low on my minutes here at the internet so here we go...
We are in Auckland today - it's raining. Been up on the north part of the island for a few days. Beautiful! Cape Reinga was amazing. The most northern tip - the ocean was beautiful up there.
Spent a couple of nights in out of the way campsites - they were great. We have met some cool people - a couple of UK, and one really cool Danish guy - he wants to be a dairy farmer in the US.
I'm feeling better as is Lisa. More later better go....
We are in Auckland today - it's raining. Been up on the north part of the island for a few days. Beautiful! Cape Reinga was amazing. The most northern tip - the ocean was beautiful up there.
Spent a couple of nights in out of the way campsites - they were great. We have met some cool people - a couple of UK, and one really cool Danish guy - he wants to be a dairy farmer in the US.
I'm feeling better as is Lisa. More later better go....
Friday, February 8, 2008
Tales for the Other Side of the Road...
Well, we are officially on day 3 of our journey in New Zealand. Currenlty we are in Paihia, a small town on the eastern coast of the Northern Island. It is part of the Bay of Islands area - a beautiful area, they tell me. But today is a little overcast and rainy so we are taking a few moments to catch up on emails and such.
Our first night in the hostel was good. We had a free meal which taught me two things - A) Grey is an unappetizing color for meat and B) Free food doesn't equal good food...We might a couple of girls from the UK which were very nice. I wish I had been feeling better but I was exhausted and a little sick (still battling this cold!) so we turned in early for the night. Both of us were up early and spent the morning having an amazing cup of coffee (and a free muffin which redeemed my thoughts on free food slightly as it was pretty dang good!) and walking around town. We managed to get our cell phones up and running before we headed to pick up the van.
Lisa was the braver of the two of us and took her first turn getting us out of the city. She made me proud. Not one incident! We cruised up the coast on Highway 1 and headed to Whangarei for the night.
Sometimes you find a place and you think "God much have really enjoyed creating this." Well, let me tell you - God was doing nothing less than showing off when He created New Zealand. This place has such beautiful views and beaches! And there are hardly any people on them! We both got a little sunburnt but it was so nice to feel the sun!
We spent our first night in the van last night and it wasn't too bad. We did some grocery shopping and should be good to go for a couple of days.
Enough for now. Hope this finds everyone happy and healthy! Adios!
Our first night in the hostel was good. We had a free meal which taught me two things - A) Grey is an unappetizing color for meat and B) Free food doesn't equal good food...We might a couple of girls from the UK which were very nice. I wish I had been feeling better but I was exhausted and a little sick (still battling this cold!) so we turned in early for the night. Both of us were up early and spent the morning having an amazing cup of coffee (and a free muffin which redeemed my thoughts on free food slightly as it was pretty dang good!) and walking around town. We managed to get our cell phones up and running before we headed to pick up the van.
Lisa was the braver of the two of us and took her first turn getting us out of the city. She made me proud. Not one incident! We cruised up the coast on Highway 1 and headed to Whangarei for the night.
Sometimes you find a place and you think "God much have really enjoyed creating this." Well, let me tell you - God was doing nothing less than showing off when He created New Zealand. This place has such beautiful views and beaches! And there are hardly any people on them! We both got a little sunburnt but it was so nice to feel the sun!
We spent our first night in the van last night and it wasn't too bad. We did some grocery shopping and should be good to go for a couple of days.
Enough for now. Hope this finds everyone happy and healthy! Adios!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
The Journey Begins...
After 17 solid hours on a plane, I can't say that I look or smell my best. This airport is crowded with so many people just like me and Lisa darting about looking for luggage, friends and family. We are mostly concerned with transportation to our hostel for tonight - The Fat Camel in Auckland. Funny name but they claim to have free food and that's enough for these two Texas chicks!
LA seems even farther away than the 7000 or so miles I put on my body in the last 18 hours. The adventure of a lifetime looms outside the airport exit. All systems, as they say, are go...
I am, however, minus a pack of beef jerky due to a very nosey beagle in customs - apparently he has the same taste in beef that I do! Ha! Actually it's a quarantined item so he got his grubby nose in there and now I am minus my jerky and my snacks from Trader Joe's!! Oh well...
It's nighttime in Texas by now (and California and Colorado) but the sun is bright down here. Adios Winter - Helloooo summertime!!!
Miss you all...keep in touch.
Love from the road...
LA seems even farther away than the 7000 or so miles I put on my body in the last 18 hours. The adventure of a lifetime looms outside the airport exit. All systems, as they say, are go...
I am, however, minus a pack of beef jerky due to a very nosey beagle in customs - apparently he has the same taste in beef that I do! Ha! Actually it's a quarantined item so he got his grubby nose in there and now I am minus my jerky and my snacks from Trader Joe's!! Oh well...
It's nighttime in Texas by now (and California and Colorado) but the sun is bright down here. Adios Winter - Helloooo summertime!!!
Miss you all...keep in touch.
Love from the road...
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
And We're Off!!
Alright - the time is at hand. We are heading out the door - if all goes as predicted, you'll hear from me in a couple of days. Thanks to everyone for your prayers and support! Love you all!
Monday, February 4, 2008
Twas the night before traveling...
It's time to leave again. The goodbye's are all but done. I have one more day of American comforts (though my first stop isn't exactly primative)...There is a cold beer in the fridge, a nice warmth emitting from the central heating as Jimmy Buffett sings some Carribean somba from my friend's ipod. My traveling companion sits at the table pouring over maps, discussing possible stops, interesting facts and other details for a trip that has been years in coming and now sits outside the door with the dawning of tomorrow's day. If I had a nickel for everytime I have answered the question "Are you ready?" I wouldn't be fretting about money so much right now...But honestly there is very little fretting or fear to be found in this room. My mind buzzes with stories that wait to be written, sunsets waiting to be seen and dreams waiting to become reality...
I'm new to "blogging" but an old hand at writing mass emails so hopefully this will save us all a great deal of time. I suppose most of you know me well enough to know that I've dreamed of traveling since my grandmother, Boo, first peaked my interest at a very young age. I first tested my wings in Hawaii - which turned into more of a extended stay in paradise than a short flight out of the nest. Pushed forward by the encouragement of friends, the insistance of my dormant (but not dead) dreams, and a few books found by luck or fate, I finally decided to test my wings yet again - and this time on a much more extended flight.
So along with my trusted companion, I am headed to New Zealand - the land of sheep and shorelines, of Kiwi's and calm. From there we will go where the wind will blow - which at this moment seems to be leaning towards Australia and then on to South East Asia.
I'll lose Ash Wednesday to the date line but by this time on Thursday, Feb. 7th I'll be in Auckland. We have rented a van for about a month to cruise around the north and south islands. We've got nothing to lose and everything to gain....Here's to the journey ahead...
"I wanna dance the tango with chance
I wanna ride on the wire
Cos nothing gets done with dust in your gun
And nobody respects a liar
So goodbye for a while I'm off to explore
Every boundary and every door..."
-- Missy Higgins
I'm new to "blogging" but an old hand at writing mass emails so hopefully this will save us all a great deal of time. I suppose most of you know me well enough to know that I've dreamed of traveling since my grandmother, Boo, first peaked my interest at a very young age. I first tested my wings in Hawaii - which turned into more of a extended stay in paradise than a short flight out of the nest. Pushed forward by the encouragement of friends, the insistance of my dormant (but not dead) dreams, and a few books found by luck or fate, I finally decided to test my wings yet again - and this time on a much more extended flight.
So along with my trusted companion, I am headed to New Zealand - the land of sheep and shorelines, of Kiwi's and calm. From there we will go where the wind will blow - which at this moment seems to be leaning towards Australia and then on to South East Asia.
I'll lose Ash Wednesday to the date line but by this time on Thursday, Feb. 7th I'll be in Auckland. We have rented a van for about a month to cruise around the north and south islands. We've got nothing to lose and everything to gain....Here's to the journey ahead...
"I wanna dance the tango with chance
I wanna ride on the wire
Cos nothing gets done with dust in your gun
And nobody respects a liar
So goodbye for a while I'm off to explore
Every boundary and every door..."
-- Missy Higgins
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