After the Curtain Closes

APRIL 4, 2011


Now that we’re done there’s no more need to be writing in this journal according to what “Day Number” it is. Nor is there any need to be recording how many KM we’ve walked or any other info regarding “the” trek – because we’re done. Finished. Complete. And it’s freaking weird.



Alex surrounded by all our stuff that
was shipped in from storage in Auckalnd

 I hope I will always remember it all. Remember waking up every morning not having a clue as to what is going to happen next. Remember the pain. The crazy mountain climbs. Remember the cold mountain rivers. The smell of goat. The smell of dead animal. Remember the different plants – those that were lovely and those that did everything in their power to prevent us from going forward. The farmland. The beaches. The rain. The sun. Remember the valleys and mountain ridgelines. Remember the dirt and grime. The blisters. The aches and pains. Remember the sunny afternoons tanning in bikinis and the never-ending struggle to make the crazy tan lines disappear. Remember gritting my teeth against the wind. Against the traffic. Against the heat. Against the cold. Remember the many times I fell. The many times I wanted to quit, but didn’t. Remember the crazy adventure of Te Araroa Trail. The mishap of trail markers. The overgrown trail portions. The non-existent trails. Remember the people. Remember New Zealand. Remember each and every waking moment of our journey.

And as I remember it all, I aim to move forward in my life as the person I have become. I no longer feel as though I am on the same path as I was when I first started. I have come out the other side of Te Araroa Trail feeling more focused. More in tune with who I am. Stronger. More determined. Enlightened on the life I want to lead.

But figuring out where to begin has been incredibly hard and overwhelming. How can I when I literally have to start from scratch? Finishing the trail I have realized that I am left with a blank canvas for which to begin the process of designing who I want to be. I have no clothes. No make-up. No jewelry. No anything to my name. No cell phone. No job. No home. No nothing.

And so I begin. A new journey. A new adventure. The adventure of life.


It feels so surreal to be here in Queenstown after talking about it for so long. Since Alex and I started trekking Te Araroa Trail, and even before we started, we were dreaming about what we would do once we finished. Not just what we wanted to do to celebrate that fact that we just walked the entire length of New Zealand, but also what we wanted to do after the celebration died down and “real” life kicked in. And here we are. It’s no longer just a dream, it is our reality.



Alex and I ready for a night out to celebrate (FINALLY)

 Arriving here at Reaves Lodge in Queenstown on April 3 after a whirlwind of finishing in Bluff and hitching our way up to Queenstown, making a final stop at the local grocery store for some food for dinner, we quickly took some “before” photos of us in our trekking clothes and excitedly stripped them off for the last and final time. Our smelly boots were banished outside our room and the old socks got chucked into the bin. No longer did we have to wear the same underwear, the same pair of shorts or the same shirt again. We were done and it felt awesome.

Cracking open a bottle of wine, Alex set to sorting through her things and getting comfortable while I took my first shower of the rest of my life. Scrubbing down never felt so good as the hot water pelted down. All the dirt. All the grime. Everything was washed clean, right down to between my toes and behind my ears. I washed my hair. Twice. Three times in fact. The shower continued to steam up as I cleaned every inch of myself. Five and a half months of walking the length of New Zealand without a care to how I cleaned myself had taken a toll. I now cared. I wanted that clean feeling. I wanted to know that when I showered I wasn’t going to get dirty again within the next five minutes from walking back to the tent.

I relished that shower. The feeling of the hot water. Of the soapy suds renewing my skin. I treasured the moment I finished and was able to wrap myself in a large, white, fluffy towel – one of which I knew was mine for the next 3 days. One of which would be there should I want to take another shower again. Coming back out to the main room – our main room – I sunk down into one of the chairs with a sigh. I looked over to Alex with a big dopey grin on my face and saw my expression mirrored on her face. The room. The towels. The beds. The sheets. The fridge. The bathroom. The toilet paper. The mirror. Everything. It was better than Christmas. Better than my birthday. Better than anything great and lovely in the world. The feeling of being there in that moment was the best feeling – the best high – I have ever had in my 24 years of living. That was it. I wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever. I wanted to just be and let the moment roll over me for all of eternity. We had done it. We had finished.

No more trekking. No more tent sleeping. No more same-short wearing. No more smelly socks or leaky boots. No more 20kg pack wearing. No more greasy hair or dirty finger nails. No more food rationing. No more sleeping bag pillows. No more deflated mats or broken trekking poles. No more duck-taped Ziploc bags. It is over – all over. I will miss it – surely I will miss it. But right now I just enjoy the fact that we are done. It’s not just the feeling of knowing we did what we set out to do, but it’s also just the fact that we have finished. And I don’t know what I am most happy about.

Since being in Queenstown, Alex and I have pampered ourselves with hot showers, real beds, fresh food and “normal people” clothes. We have spent time walking around Queenstown and planning for where we go from here (fingers are crossed for Hanmer Springs). One night we went out to a local pub and met up with a friend from Broome who worked there. Alex, Siobhan and I hung out in the pub by the log fire, enjoying the live band playing into the night. It was bliss. Absolute bliss.



It's a good thing the truck has a sign on its back end. Heaven
knows we would have missed seeing these houses otherwise.

 By the time we were due to check out of Reaves Lodge on April 6, neither one of us was ready to say goodbye. Our stuff from storage in Auckland had arrived the day before and we were completely overloaded with stuff that it was overwhelming to think of how we were going to be able to not only pack up, but find some way to get out of Queenstown and head to Hanmer Springs. Armed with two massive backpacks each plus numerous amounts of small bags stuffed to the max, there was no way we were able to hitch our way out of town and hoping on the local bus didn’t seem like a viable option either.

With the help of the local staff at Reaves Lodge (Thanks John and Zelda) we were able to get in contact with a rental company that needed a vehicle relocated from Queenstown to Christchurch. The deal was that we had to get the car there within 24 hours and all we had to pay for was the gas. Given the amount of luggage we had, this was a sweet deal for us. And so we waved goodbye to Reaves Lodge and set out in our little blue car to head towards Hanmer Springs – not only were we done the trek, we were wearing “normal people” clothes and had a car to drive. Life couldn’t get much better.

And drive we did. Popping into Wanaka on our way up and then over to the east coast where we drove until we got tired. Then we pulled over, piled on the clothes and climbed into our sleeping bags – crammed in our little car we caught some shuteye until sunrise the next morning. And then we put the key in the ignition and drove onwards. To Hanmer Springs we went to drop off our luggage before we zipped back to Christchurch to drop off the car.

It was strange to be back in Christchurch after all that had happened. Last time we were there it was for an entirely different purpose – to help those in need through the Student Army. This time we went to drop off a car and meet up with friends we had made on our previous visit. It was awesome to catch up with our friends – especially considering they were as excited as us about the fact that Alex and I were wearing “normal people” clothes (jeans!).

And now we’ve made it to Hanmer Springs.



Hard to know what to do now that we're normal people again


APRIL 8, 2011

Well… it’s my first official day in Hanmer Springs here and I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve gotten settled here at my work-for-accommodation at the Hanmer Springs Forest Camp with my own little cabin (tiny and cold) and it feels good, but I’m still a little hesitant to fully relax yet. I still need a job – BAD. That’s my main goal for today and I only hope it goes alright.

The adventure in Queenstown already seems like a world away.