Goodbye Gemini, Hello Hubba Hubba

And so we returned back home. Or at least home for me. The sister and I have been away for the past couple weeks and it feels like a lifetime has been and gone since I last set foot in my home. She's been visiting from Canada. For Christmas. 5.5 weeks of awesomeness.

Our last two weeks was planned as an adventure exploring the famous Abel Tasman and surrounding area. Ferry booked, rental car organised and two packs crammed full of camping gear - we were set. I just didn't expect my tent to fall to pieces in the process.

Camping in daisy fields - British Columbia

I knew my tent was on it's last legs when I pulled it out to make sure it was ready to go for our holiday. It was the tent I had gotten years ago in Canada when I first starting doing backcountry camping. My first tent. It had all my first memories of heading off to the bush with nothing but the gear on my back. It got me across British Columbia - 7 weeks of just me and the Canadian wilderness as I walked from Banff to Vancouver.

When I knew I was to walk New Zealand, I had that tent shipped to Australia. I used it there while I lived at a local campground in Broome, WA. It was home for 2 months while I did final preparation work for Te Araroa Trail. And then I brought it to New Zealand.

The first major rain storm in New Zealand left me with the realization that my MEC Gemini 3-season tent had started to reach the end of it's life. It had lost all of it's waterproofing function and much like a bad rainjacket is useless in the wet, waking up in a puddle from water seeping up from the ground was even more annoying. At the time Alex and I were forced to fork over a few hundred to get a new tent for our adventure.

Since then my Canadian tent has sat waiting in storage. Waiting for the day that I would finally take it out again and invest a bit of time and money into re-waterproofing its fabric. A couple weeks ago that day finally arrived. I set it up during one of Wellington's glorious sunny days and got about spraying my tent with waterproofer. When it had fully dried, I took off the fly only to find that the velcro strips that had attached the fly to the tent poles had worn out their glue and popped off, falling to the ground like a tree loses its leaves. I tried to ignore the fact that my tent was literally starting to fall apart.

On it's last legs - note the tarp through the "window"

It was at our first campsite on route to Nelson that I began to accept that maybe my tent wouldn't last the next couple weeks, let alone another season of camping. As the sister and I set it up, I noticed that one of the windows had started to come away from the fly. It was just a simple piece of plastic glued to the fly of the tent in a triangle shape that allowed more light into the tent and the ability for me to spy on everything from the inside - but they had hung on for years. Until now. The gap between the piece of plastic and the fly mocked me as though the tent was daring me to try and fix it. We gave it our best shot - sort of.

A few minutes later and a lot of bandaides, plastic bags and sports tape later, we had resealed the window. Just as we posed for a photo to show our accomplishment for the day, the tape started to peel away. All we could do was compensate by adding a tarp to the mix and cross our fingers that if rain came that we wouldn't be washed away with the mess of it all.

By the time we got to the next campsite, both windows literally fell out of their holes. We attached the tarp under the fly, but each time the wind got strong, a corner would blow off its peg and flap against the tent.

I had no choice but to fork over the money for a new tent.

The new tent in all its glory

My purchase of the MSR Hubba Hubba tent has been something I have dreamed about for years. It has been a tent I have lusted after for as long as I can remember and I was finally in a position to not just need it, but also have the money to get it. And yet my excitement was tainted by the fact that my getting a new tent was because the old one had finished its days of providing me shelter while in the great outdoors.

Everything about my old tent is ingrained in my memory. It was one of the few possessions in my life that I truly feel sentimental about. Much like people feel about getting rid of their first car, first apartment, first love - I have felt that way about my blue and yellow tent. The nights I have spent sleeping there, hiding out from the rain or simply living my life because I was too cheap to get more structured accommodation are more than I can count.

The memories I have had in there - it was the tent that gave me the freedom to explore the backcountry. It was the tent that made me feel safe when it was dark, cold or the threat of wild animals was near. It was the tent that inspired me to take on the challenge of Te Araroa Trail. It featured in many of my travel photos and even in the promotional video done for walking New Zealand. It was the tent I carried on my back for weeks on end. It was my sanctuary. And now it is gone.

I threw my old one in the trash the day before we came back to Wellington and it was bittersweet. It was sad. And yet I felt a new thrill of hope and wonder for what will be with my new tent. At the very least I can rest assured that wherever it takes me I will stay dry without fear of any windows falling out.

Take Various Vitamins

Take various vitamins. You never know what small mineral can eliminate the bottleneck to everlasting health.

~ Lululemon

There is something that is so sweet and pure about being able to shut out the world and seek comfort within one's one bubble of existence. Only thing is - I have forgotten how hard it is to do such a task when within a city of over a million people. So many sounds. So many smells. So many people - everywhere I go. Everything feels crowded and closing in. Covered in cement, this concrete city overwhelms me at every point I turn. And there is no escape - no quick getaway. 

Danielle and I in a photobooth

I did get away a few days ago - to head to Invermere with my Dad. It was absolutely brilliant to be amongst the mountains again - breathe the fresh air. But even Invermere was busy for a Sunday night. People had flocked there from Fairmont after the recent mudslide incident. Golfers checking into the hotel with dried mud on their pant legs. Everyone buzzy with excitement over their experience and near-miss in the nearby mountain village. Perfect.

It was perfect when we got to the base of Jumbo Pass for our hike the next day. Not a soul to be seen except for each other. This pass was something I had envisioned taking my dad on since I walked across BC three years ago and sat atop of the world overlooking the wilderness all around. And now it was time. Coming full circle, I was able to show my dad a bit of what it was that I did those years ago when I solo-hiked my way to Vancouver. Up the steep switchbacks. Over rocks and under fallen trees - we inched our way up the mountainside. I even managed to find a tree I had previously tied a piece of surveyor's tape to to help others find the trail as I had found myself in knee-deep snow with no sign of any other life at that point. This year it was dry, but the piece of tape still wriggled in the breeze. 

By the time we walked our way over stretches of snow that threatened to engulf us in order to reach Jumbo Hut at the top of the pass, things were looking pretty great. With a 360 degree view of all the glacier-covered mountains around, I immediately felt at home. There is something to be said about the mountains. The rich ruggedness that touches my soul in the deepest places and makes everything seem okay. But before I knew it, I had eaten my lunch and it was time for us to head back down. Down to civilization again. Down to "reality," as most would say. 

Dad & I at the top of Jumbo Pass

I had a great time climbing that pass and it only served to remind of all that Calgary is not. Yes - it is a great city. Yes - it does have a lot of parks to enjoy and things to do. And yes - it is relatively close to the mountains. But when I need to escape from it all, I find there is no where to really and truly breathe. It is concrete and people all around. I smell the car fumes. The fast food. The intensity of it all. 

For the second time since arriving in Calgary, I was able to scrounge a few hours of peace and quiet to myself and I found myself to completely enjoy every second of it. I shut the doors, turned off the phone and spent a few hours doing only what I wanted to do. Because I wanted to do it. 

And yet, I still felt trapped. Wanting to break free. Wanting to get away from it all. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. This life is not for me and I have to continue to remind myself that it is no longer my life - my life has moved on and Calgary is just simply a temporary stopover. A stopover of visits into my past of who I used to be compared to who I am now. 

I have changed since being away - but not really. At the heart of who I am, I think I am still me. I have spent many years feeling as though I haven't quite fit in - that I haven't found my place in the world yet. It hasn't been until coming back to Calgary that I truly realized that this is no longer true. I have found a place I fit - it is just unfortunate that the place I have found is so far away from those I have loved for so much of my life. And yet I am still the happiest and most content that I have ever been. And that trumps all. Even vitamins.

Grandma & I enjoying our home cooked dinner

After being away for so many years, I have noticed a drastic harshness to North American culture that I always knew was there, but never really fully understood it until now. There is this constant need to feed off the greed integrated in society that even captures those who struggle to break free. Everywhere I go there are messages being thrown at me to tell me to buy things, try things, sell things, have things, trade things and everything in between. There are only about a million different ways to get healthy and yet few of them actually understand what health means. If one eats a balanced diet - vitamins are very rarely actually needed. Those that stock up on massive quantities of vitamins in order to "get healthy" are simply spending an exorbitant amount of money on their pee. 

I went to the Calgary Stampede a while back only to run across a man selling machines one stands on and straps a thick rubber band around their waist and then turns the machine on in order to have it vibrate around their body. This is meant to make one "get into shape." Apparently there is a market for it as there was a huge number of people lined up to try it out - I'm just not sure what happened to walking the dog. 

No one has time any more. Everyone is in a rush - even my vacation has become something of a stressful schedule as everyone has been vying for a spot within my schedule - something of which I have been keeping to with military precision. I have received a few terse messages from certain people who haven't been able to get a hold of me immediately on my temporary cell phone on the occasions that I have turned it off for a bit of peace and quiet or happen to be busy doing something else. Meeting someone else. 

It's all go, go, go with no break or relief from the intensity that city life brings. Even a casual drive around the city has brought upon exasperated comments from those driving with me towards the people in front of us, behind us or even beside us that aren't manoeuvring their vehicles up to the driver's standard. I have been constantly bombarded with the frustrated voices of those appalled at the new distracted driver's law. People here are no longer allowed to use their cell phone while driving - apparently some people find this to be annoying. I'd rather not die at the hand of someone texting while driving. 

City life is different and yet so much the same as what I remember. And it leaves me wanting to get away. There is so much that I have done while being here - so much I will do prior to leaving on my plane back to New Zealand - that I am grateful I had the opportunity to come. I have had a brilliant time catching up with so many people I have only been able to Skype for the past few years. But I also know that soon I will be back to my little place in the world and that thought sounds pretty good to me. 

Jealousy Works the Opposite Way

Jealousy works the opposite way you want it to.

~ Lululemon

Though I have been in Canada for 2 weeks now, it still feels as though I am Alice in Wonderland. Whether I have just jumped down the rabbit hole or have climbed my way up to the "real world," I haven't a clue. Part of me feels as though I am a foreigner of my own country where as another part feels as though I have never left. Maybe the last 3 years have all just been a dream and I have only now just woken up. Woken up to this concrete city of madness.

Calgary Stampede Parade 2012

Gone are the days when I roll out of bed and feed the cat and then run with the dog. Now it is just me. Gone are the days when I look out the window to see mountains on my back doorstep. Now I look out to face the  neighbouring houses with their rubbish bins lining the back fence. Gone are the days of making all my meals and freezing leftovers. Now I find I am constantly eating out at various chain restaurants - filling my time catching up with those I have only seen in Facebook photos for the past few years.

Don't get me wrong - it's been great to catch up with people, even if half the time I feel as though I am something of a show-&-tell item for others to gawk at and pass around like a novelty toy. Yes, I have been gone for 3 years. Yes, I have a bit of a strange accent now. Yes, I love NZ and will be going back there. And yes, it's absolutely positively fantastic to get to see everyone again. 

Me with the Grandparents in Innisfail

Much has thrown me off about living in Calgary again. Most of it is vaguely familiar, but a lot has been thrown at me, causing a significant amount of culture shock. Here everything is open early morning and late into the night. No more do I have to rush to the store prior to 6pm in order to get what I need for the next day. Here I can get whatever I want when I want - and then some. No more do I have to settle for the next best thing. Here I am constantly bombarded with people. People all around. It's become a game to see if I can get someone to smile at me - bonus points if they actually respond to my "hellos." Everyone is busy - busy coming. Busy going. Busy doing something so incredibly important that there is no time to just be and enjoy. The cars move fast. People honk angrily at each other. The madness of city life surrounds me and every so often I have to take a step back, close my eyes and just breathe. 

My schedule has filled up to the point where it's difficult to find time for myself. To go from living in my own house in the middle of a forest - part of a town with a population of 1000 to a house with my dad in a city of a million. Things have felt a little crazy to say the least. 

Rocky Mountains

Even still, I have been able to get a lot sorted. My book, One Step at a Time, has gone through all the final publication steps and should be showing up at my door any day. I have been stockpiling on mascara as though it's going out of style and I even managed to get an incredible deal on some climbing gear. There has been trips out to the mountains, excursions exploring the downtown shops and even the adventure of watching the Calgary Stampede Parade. Through a massive amount of meals out on the town, my time here in Calgary is finally starting to shape into a brilliant holiday. Between tennis, the Rocky Mountains, Calgary Stampede Rodeo, Ziplining, Bobsledding, Climbing, Crafting and lazing out in the summer sun - there isn't much I won't have done by the time this trip is over. 

2 weeks of craziness done. 2 weeks to go. The adventure is only half done. 

What We Do to the Earth

What we do to the earth we do to ourselves.

~ Lululemon

I've made it. Over 24hrs of travelling and I have officially reached the homeland. My homeland. It's a little strange to be here after being away for 3 years - yup, that's right. 3 entire years I have been gone. It's a little crazy and I have no explanation other than time seems to fly when having fun. 

Enjoying the view

To say coming back to Canada was a little intimidating is the understatement of the year. I was entirely petrified. No one except my sister knew I was coming for the simply fact that the thought of showing up at the airport after 24hrs of travelling and 3 years of being absent, the 20-some people eagerly waiting to greet me freaked me out. Talk about pressure. 

And so I planned it as a surprise. Didn't take much effort other than to book my flights and inform my sister of the date of my arrival. And then hope she'd even show up. 3 years changes things - it certainly changed me and I could only assume that everything had changed back in Canada as well. Even still, I knew it was time to go back and see everyone again - I was as ready as I would ever be.

Saying goodbye to everyone in Hanmer Springs was difficult. It felt as though I was saying goodbye to home and my family all over again. Having been there over a year, Hanmer Springs has become home. And yet I did the deed and left. Driving away in my rental car, all I could think was that it would be my last day driving on the left side of the road for a while and that kind of freaked me out a bit. I only hoped that things would be okay upon my arrival.

In Christchurch I found a place to stay and tried to fall asleep at 5pm. Naturally, this didn't happen and so I tossed and turned until nearly midnight before my mind finally shut off and I got a few hours sleep prior to being woken up by my alarm at 3am. It was time to go. Checking in at the airport and going through security was pretty standard - right down to my being chosen (as usual) for the "random" bomb check. I seriously need to figure out what it is about me that makes me look like an explosives carrier. 

Banff, Alberta

7am we left Christchurch on route to Sydney. After a quick breakkie and one showing of 21 Jump Street, we were there. Off the plane I went to go check-in for the next plane, sit and wait for boarding and then board. And again we went - only this time leaving 30 min later than we were meant to. I figured we'd catch up time in the air. Apparently not. During our 14hr flight to Vancouver, the captain didn't find time to speed up a little. Instead, he slowed down so that our arrival time was a full hour later than we were meant to arrive. Perfect. I had a mere 40 min to disembark, grab my luggage, go through customs, re-check in and board the next plane to Calgary. 

As that was an impossible feat in itself, I got put on standby for the next plane. Fortunately I got on - only my bag didn't which resulted in the first meeting with my sister in Calgary being one of total awkwardness as we waited for my bag to arrive at the baggage claim for what seemed to be an eternity before we concluded that it hadn't been on the same flight as me. Fortunately the airport would courier it to me later.

What followed my arrival to Calgary was none other than a series of surprise visits to family who had no idea I was in town. After a lengthy lunch date with my sister, we went to my mom's work to set up a coffee date between her and my sister. Only my mom didn't know I would be there too. When she showed up, it was like the world stopped spinning and nothing moved. And so it went.

Tears, smiles, exclamation of excitement - one by one I surprised all my loved ones. It was incredibly exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time. My dad was probably the best surprise as he and I had been planned a Skype date for that week and so he was busy eating dinner so he could be in front of the computer for our arranged time. The glitch came when my sister called to say she was in the area and asked if she could drop by. My dad greeted her at the door and proceeded to make small talk, all the while informing her that she may have to go as he had a Skype date with me. He was completely unaware that my sister had dropped me off down the street to walk up to his door and ring the doorbell. His automatic response to the ringing door was to demand what "they" could possibly want. He opened the door and was completely stunned to find me standing there. It was perfect.

As these emotional days have passed, I find myself settling into life back in Canada to a point where it almost makes me wonder if my life in New Zealand was even real. Things have changed. I have changed. Everyone has changed - and yet it still all the same as I left it 3 years ago. It's strange but oddly comforting just the same. 

Banff Springs Hotel

What has stunned me the most is probably the amount of stuff I had left behind so long ago. I had previously sold what I thought to be nearly all my possessions as I didn't know when I would return to Canada. However, upon returning, I have discovered that my previous notion of "all" my possessions really wasn't accurate. I began opening up boxes to find I have enough clothes for an army. I do believe I had a shopping problem. Fortunately for me, this means I no longer have to buy clothes for the next few years. I can finally say goodbye to my one pair of jeans I have been hanging onto in New Zealand and mending every they rip. 

Overall it's been a bit of a whirlwind to say the least, but it's good to be back. It's good to finally see familiar faces in person - not just on Skype. It's good to finally be in the same time zone as everyone else. It's good to be able to pick up the phone and call someone for a coffee date and know that it could actually happen. It's good to no longer be saying "I can't wait to come back" - I am back. For now. 

Do Not Use Cleaning Chemicals

Do not use cleaning chemicals on your kitchen counters. Someone will inevitably make a sandwich on your counter.

 ~ Lululemon

I find it fascinating to see how the world around us is changing. Changing to become more green. To become more conscious of the decision we make on a daily basis and how they affect both the people around us and the world we live in. At the camp we have switched to a chemical-free cleaning system. When you get to the bottom of the scientific reasoning, the bottom line simply states that it makes sense. Why wouldn't you want to cut out chemicals? Think of all the warning labels on those multiple bottles stored under your kitchen sink. Those that say you can only dispose of the remains in a certain way. Those that say you must wear protective clothing to avoid touching that said chemical. Those that say not to swallow or don't get in your eyes. Those that say you must call a certain number should anything go wrong. 

And so chemical-free we have gone. The camp switched to Enjo cleaning products nearly 6 months ago and it has made a world of a difference. No longer are we spending heaps of money on chemicals, but the place is actually cleaner for it (think of all those times you have to "clean up" what you just cleaned simply because the chemical residue is still present on the surface) - the comments are coming in of how fabulous the place looks and we are even getting questions as to what we use. Funny that we're simply a forestry camp that deals with schools year round and yet we have some sort of impressive cleaning system.

That impressive cleaning system is just what I had to use today. As we have hit a natural transition faze in our volunteer model, today we had no volunteers to do the normal tasks to help the camp run properly. As per my job description, the tasks then fell upon my shoulders to complete. So today I had the brilliant job of cleaning toilets. It wasn't so bad - at least I didn't have to wear gloves due to the chemicals being used and it didn't. That and it's not like I've been doing it day-in, day-out to be bored of it. Even still, it brought back memories of when I first arrived at the camp and I was doing all the cleaning. Back in the day when I just thought I would stay a couple months to save enough money to be able to move on. Back in the day when I lived in a Forestry Cabin and was the only person allocated to do the cleaning on a daily basis. Back in the day when I was still labelled as a "backpacker."

Calgary, Alberta, Canada

Times have changed quite significantly since I was a cleaner for the Hanmer Springs Forest Camp. Not only have I moved out of cabin B1 to a proper house (though the insulation leaves nothing to be desired), but my entire position at the camp has changed. There is something to be said about being in a position where I feel completely exhilarated to come to work every single day. Sure - I work at a campground, but the Hanmer Springs Forest Camp isn't just any campground. There is so much depth and history and potential to it that it could keep me going for many years to come. 

Essentially, all my thinking of the past has brought me to where I am at today. As the Volunteer & Fundraising Coordinator of the camp, I have been set with the task of implementing a steady stream of income through donations, fundraising and funding that the camp has otherwise not had since it opened its doors in 1978. And now it has nearly come. I have been putting together plans for an annual Art & Film Festival to occur in January 2013 that should the remaining sponsors get on board - will be not only the biggest event the camp has ever had, but the biggest event of Hanmer Springs. Complete with Art Stalls, Workshops, Silent Auction, Entertainment, a free Kids Zone, Food and an Open-Air Cinema, there will be something for people of all ages. And I can't wait for it to happen.

There is something to be said about planning an event that will bring in more money for the camp than what I will make in an entire year - it's brilliant to be part of something that has a vision. Has potential. Has direction. And who knows - maybe by putting in my two cents in the next couple of years I will be able to help the camp develop opportunities for underprivileged children to go to camp for a week. Maybe I will be able to help the camp upgrade some of its facilities. Maybe I will be able to help the camp generate enough funds to develop new programs. Maybe I will help the camp become all that it is meant to be. 

Hanmer Springs, Canterbury, New Zealand

In the meantime I find I am torn between being excited about my career prospects in what I am doing here in Hanmer Springs and trying not to lose touch with loved ones back in Canada. It's not easy being here, living day-by-day, knowing that those I love to pieces are on the other side of the world and that I'm missing out on their lives as much as their missing out on mine. As much as I know that I am were I am meant to be, I struggle with the guilt of knowing that I have chosen to be where I am. Is there ever a right choice between choosing to do what you love and be with those you love?

As it is, I find as the days tick on, I continue to look forward to going back to Canada for a visit. It has been long enough and I find each day that goes by I am more aware of all that I am missing out back in Canada. It is not that I want to go back to live there - it is that I know the more time that goes on, the more I am distancing myself from all that I once was. 

All that I can focus on is the fact that I have booked my flights. It will be awesome to see everyone that I have not seen for nearly 3 years now. It will be great to hug those I have not been able to for so long and finally sit down for a proper coffee within the same time zone and catch up. I can't wait to see how Calgary has changed in the past 3 years as much as I can't wait to see my best friend, Janelle, get married. There is so much about "home" that I have forgotten about - things such as stores being open 24/7, slurpees, and the ability to say aluminum foil without being laughed at (those that have traveled from North America know what I am talking about). I can't even remember what good TV is like, nor the feeling of driving down a proper "motorway" (the one into Christchurch is 2 lanes wide and 10km long). There is so much of Canadian/North American culture that I have not been a part of for so long that as excited as I am to go back - it also freaks the crap out of me. 

Even still, none of it matters as it is the people I plan to see that matters most. So much has changed in the last few years that it seems absurd to think that things can pick up where they have left off. It's difficult to know what will happen when I step off that plan at the Calgary airport, but I know one thing is for sure - I will be damn happy to be able to buy mascara for less than $20!

Friends Are More Important Than Money

Friends are more important than money.

~ Lululemon

There may have been some rumours floating around - I am here to tell you they are true. I can officially say that I am coming back to Canada for a visit. Not until November, but still. It is time. It has been nearly three years since I was last in my hometown of Calgary and though it seems like I just left yesterday - it has been way too long.

I have been planning to come back for some time and wanted to do it as a surprise, but when my close friend, Janelle, informed me of her wedding plans for November - my plans were made for me. I would be coming back then. I don't know how long I will stay, but I hope to see everyone again. It's a scary thought, really. Sure - in a lot of ways I will feel as though I am coming "home," but in so many other ways it will feel as though I have travelled to a completely foreign country.

For the past three years I have met so many different people, eaten so much different food and explored so many different places, that it's hard to fathom what life would be like if I went back to Canada. Sure, I still remember, but that was also nearly 3 years ago - a lot has changed. In me. In my friends & family. In Canada. I, for one, refuse to eat orange cheese - regardless if it is in a tube, spray can, jar or in solid form. I no longer have a phobia of eating a meat-free diet and I worry over the thought of not being able to find pumpkin or beetroot (beets) to add to nearly everything I make. Not to mention driving.

I have been gone for so long that I now drive on the left side of the road in my dreams. It seems weird to watch people drive on the right side of the road in movies and I wonder if my brain will survive the huge adjustment when I am back in Canada.

There are many other adjustments I have to mentally prepare myself for in planning a visit back to Canada. Things like the fact that there are actually dangerous animals to consider when going to the bush. Things like the fact that people say "garbage" instead of "rubbish," "tom-A-to" instead of "tom-AH-to" and "to-go" instead of "takeaway." Things like the fact that people actually care about fashion. And money. And things. Things like the fact that television series are up to 5 years ahead of what we watch here in New Zealand - and that ANY television show will be 100x flashier than what I have become accustomed to in NZ. Canadians will have insulation in all buildings and electrical outlets OUTSIDE their houses (to plug in their cars) and generally make a big deal out of how everything is cheaper in the States. At least one can drive there on the weekend to pick up what they want.

That all said, there will be things I miss of NZ as well. I am not sure how well I will be able to handle all the people in Canada. Going from a town of 1000 locals of which I live on the outskirts in the middle of a forest to a city of a million plus is going to cause a bit of anxiety. It will seem strange to think that places won't close at 5pm so all the workers can get home to their families. It will also seem weird to know that though I am going "home" - I am not really as NZ is currently my home.

There are a lot of things that will be weird - scary even - but most of all I am excited to be able to see everyone I love in person again. To be able to hug people in real life and not be confined to Skype. To be able to book in coffee dates where I am existing on the same day as the person I am chatting to (generally I am a day ahead any time I talk to people in Canada due to the time difference). There are heaps things I can't wait to do - heaps of people I want to see and most of all - I am excited that because I am coming back for Janelle's wedding, I get to share my excitement with everyone else. I don't know if I would have survived having to keep things a surprise otherwise.

So - until next time, I can't wait - for everything! Fingers crossed November comes soon enough!

Visualize Your Eventual Demise

Visualize your eventual demise. It can have an amazing effect on how you live for the moment.

~ Lululemon

As soon as I turned off my cell phone, a wave of enlightened freedom washed over me. The weight on my shoulders had been lifted. I had done it. Disappeared.

That was yesterday – when I arrived in Kaikoura. After endless hours of working over the course of 10 days, I had finally made it to my four-day stretch of nothingness. And it felt brilliant. Originally, I had planned to head off to the west coast, to see Nelson and surrounding areas, but plans changed when Cat had to go home to see her family before work started up again. She was the one with the car. And in the midst of school holidays in which both of us were off, it would have been perfect to have a few days of adventure together. But also, just as important – it was a perfect time for her to make the long trip to Dunedin to check in with her loved ones. It only made me wish that it was that simple and easy for me to do the same.

Instead, I was left without a ride. Without a plan. Without a companion to share an adventure with. All I had was a “Plan B,” but no plan. As I laid awake in my bed two nights ago tossing and turning at the frustrating thought that I had finally gotten time off but had nowhere to go – one thing continued to come to the forefront of my brain. I wanted to disappear.

I wanted to let go of everything. To get away. To be free of all ties of responsibility and obligation. The stress of the past month at work was eating away at me. Worrying about doing my job right. Stressing about internal staff relations. Trying to keep a smile on my face as I shared the camp with customers, fellow co-workers and volunteers to which I supervised – all the while wanting to curl up in the corner and hideaway. It was time for a much-needed break.

Sunrise - Mt. Isobel

And so in the late hours of Monday night, my Plan B was formulized. I would skip my morning run in exchange for rising early to walk to the petrol station on the outskirts of Hanmer Springs and hitch a ride east to Kaikoura. I had never been to Kaikoura before and with what everyone continued to tell me about it, it seemed like the ideal location for a few days of rejuvenating “me time.” I only hoped the nerves of hitching on my own wouldn’t eat me alive before I even left town. I focused my energy at smiling brightly and appearing care-free and casual as I stuck my thumb out and hoped for a ride. By 7:00 a.m. I was on the road with a lawyer on his way back to Christchurch for work. He dropped me at the next major highway intersection as he headed right to go to the Garden City and I walked to a pull-off point along the road so that I could head left. Within five minutes I had another ride.

Three guys in a rented campervan picked me up within five minutes and I joked with them on how no one with a rented campervan ever picks hitchers up. They were all from South Africa and touring around the country with the primary purpose of following the Rugby World Cup. Sitting in the back of the campervan on the made-up bed (which the guys informed me was much too short for a South African man – to which I noted they were rather tall), I happily settled into the get-to-know you conversation that comes with spontaneously being together with random people. I only wondered how backpackers riding the Kiwi Experience tour buses ever felt as though they got any sort of “Kiwi experience.” I have never been on any such bus while travelling and felt the comfortable ease of spontaneously conversing with the person in the next seat. I, in fact, avoid such travelling “experiences” for such a reason. I suppose that explains my desire to hitch to Kaikoura rather than take a shuttle bus. That and it was a little easier on the wallet.

After one gas stop and some time winding our way along the narrow mountainous roads towards the famous seaside town, we came across a man running on the side of the road. It was none other than Richie McCaw. Only in New Zealand would you come across one of the most recognized faces in sport casually doing his morning run on the side of the road. We honked at him and shouted words of encouragement as we zipped on passed – and then we were there. Kaikoura.

With no time at all, I had found my way to a hostel that could offer me a private room with ensuite that suited my budget and after a quick walk to the local grocery store, I was sorted. I haven’t even minded that it has rained nearly continuously since arriving here – being outside and doing the touristy things wasn’t my primary reason for me.

I’ve just needed time to shut out the world and be by myself. Be in my own bubble where there are no worries of recognizing people I know. Be anonymous to those around me. Be invisible. And so I have turned off my cell phone with glee. There is nowhere I need to be. No one that I need to be in contact with. No one that needs to know where I am. And it feels brilliant.

This morning I went for a run and found myself missing the mountain trials out my back door in Hanmer Springs. But that didn’t stop me from enjoying the ability to do some yoga on the beach while watching the water lap the shoreline and the sun come up over the horizon. Early morning fishermen were out in their boats on the calm water and I watched them as I did my sun salutations. I did the warrior as I gazed back at the majestic snow-capped mountains just behind Kaikoura and felt my soul calm down in a sense of peace. Today would be a good day.

And it has been. The hours have ticked passed as I took a long shower, leisurely ate breakfast while gazing out over the ocean, had a late morning nap and walked to the secondhand bookstore to pick up something to read. But most of all I find that my mind is aimlessly wandering through all the things I haven’t felt I’ve had time to think about in a while. I find my brain picking up a topic and critically going over each angle of it, testing it, analyzing it and then letting it go.

Ever since walking Te Araroa Trail, I have felt as though my “me time” has lessoned quite considerably. I got used to having the time to simply just think. The pace of life was such a way that a person could finish a day and feel quite secured with how they fit into the world around them. Or at least that is how I felt. A quiet contentment would fill my soul on most days – even the worst days – in the knowledge that the simplicity of life would ground me in whatever I was thinking or doing.

But not any longer. Sure – life is still fairly simple. It’s not as though I have a high-powered job in a fast-paced city or anything. But my life now is a lot faster than what it once was. I am no longer walking through life with a fine-toothed comb. In some ways that’s a good thing, but in other ways – it eventually builds up inside me until I get to the point where I need to hideaway for a while and untangle the mess that my thoughts have become.

I have now passed the year mark of which Alex and I started walking Te Araroa. A year ago we would have been setting up camp in Ahipara, thanking all the higher powers that we made it off the beach and had found civilization again. A year ago we were unsure what the future held – Alex’s ankle was injured. My blisters hurt. My shoulders felt as though they were going to fall off. And that was just the beginning of the adventure.

And now I sit here in my private room in Kaikoura and contemplate the rain as it pours down outside and think of how much I am still so much traumatized from the rain Alex and I walked through while doing Te Araroa Trail. I avoid any sort of time being out in the rain simply because the feeling of being wet eternally as become a fear ingrained within me. I have yet to re-discover the fun I once had in the wet as I did as a child. Right now it is lost from me and I much more content to simply watch it from the comfort of my room while reading a good book.

So much has happened in the past few months that these few days have been needed for quite some time. I haven’t quite processed all that happened while trekking Te Araroa Trail. I am not sure I ever will. Not to mention that it hasn’t really sunk in what I am doing here in New Zealand. My aim of travelling the world has somehow morphed into the desire to seek out putting some roots down in Hanmer Springs. And oddly enough, I am at peace with that. I think. Every so often I start to freak about it and I have to remind myself why I am doing what I am doing. And sometimes I am not even sure what that is.

With all this reflection, I have started to enter my age into the equation. I have never before considered my age to be a factor in what I do with my life or what I want to do until now. All of a sudden I find fleeting thoughts and concerns about where I am at with my life and wondering if it’s where I am supposed to be. Though I know I am where I am meant to be – how could I not be? – It still makes me wonder. With all the people I have met around the world, everyone is in a constant struggle of competition with everyone else to find where they fit in the world and be able to declare that they have found “it.” Whatever that may be. It seems to always come down to the battle between settling down and living the “dream.” I have yet to see if a person can have both.

As it stands – I have figured out in my time of being with myself – I am living my dream. I figure I am probably living more of a dream than I ever figured I could dream. I also figure that I need to stop worrying about what will come – what will be – and enjoy the ride that will take me there, as it surely will be good won’t it? I also need to stop stressing about things that don’t matter and just work on loving the people around me that care about me. Including myself.

I find it easy to get caught up in a whirlwind of self-destructive thought processes with regards to my own personal perspective on myself. Who doesn’t? But when in a foreign country, with no word on whether I will be staying longer or leaving tomorrow and living in a small town surrounded by people I have only known for a few months, it is easy to get caught in the trap of feeling isolated and lost. My solution? To disappear.

And so here I am. Cut off from the world – other to write this very public blog entry – and it feels brilliant. Time to work out the thoughts in my head. To figure out where to go from where I am. To come back to work and life in Hanmer Springs stronger and more determined to go after what it is I want. What it is I am meant to do. What it is that will continue this adventure another day.

Better to not know which moment will be your last – every morsel of your entire being alive to the infinite mystery of it all.

~ Pirates of the Caribbean – On Stranger Tides



Comunication is COMPLICATED

Communication is COMPLICATED. We are all raised in a different family with slightly different definitions of every word. An agreement is an agreement only if each party knows the conditions for satisfaction and a time is set for satisfaction to occur.

~ Lululemon

Still no word on the visa and yet things continue to chug along here in Hanmer Springs. I have unofficially officially started my new position here at the camp as a Volunteer & Fundraising Coordinator. The paperwork may still need signing but my purpose each day at work has been re-ignited. No longer am I simply expected to ensure there are enough toilet rolls beside each toilet. Now I simply have to ensure that someone else has put enough toilet rolls beside each toilet.

Cat, Alex, myself and Ben watching the Rugby World Cup
opening game and ceremony.

And so it has begun. The past few weeks have been filled with both recruiting and training up backpackers to work at the camp for their accommodation. We now have what us camp staff have started to refer to as our own volunteer army. It’s been brilliant. All of a sudden, all the things we have been struggling to get done – all the things that continuously sit on the back burner to do during a slow day (but never get done) are now all being ticked off our never-ending list. Spring cleaning. Washing windows. Stacking wood. Weeding gardens. Re-painting fences. Tick, tick, tick. And through all of this I have realized that I am pretty comfortable with the whole “coordinating” side of my job, but it’s the communication part of it that leaves me completely flat-lined by the end of the day.

See – it would all be quite a simple process if everyone knew the thoughts and ideas going through my head, agreed with them and were able to successfully complete what I had in mind without a hitch. If only life were like that. Instead, I spend most of my day struggling to communicate what it is that I have in mind, what I want done and how to do it better for next time. And not for lack of trying either.

Stu FINALLY climbs the tree at the
camp. His son is only slightly distracted.

First off, bringing backpackers to the little bubble of our camp in the wonderland of Hanmer Springs isn’t that difficult. And getting them to work for free isn’t that hard either. It’s trying to communicate with them when they are all from different countries of the world. Different ages. Different backgrounds. Different ideas on how to do things – on what works and what doesn’t. Different work ethics. Not to mention when they speak different languages.

So – here I am in a learning curve of sorts as I have discovered that generally speaking, my biggest struggle is learning to not be so nice all the time. Learning to have boundaries. Learning to have standards of how I want things done. Learning to be a strong and competent leader. Easier said than done.

In particular, it’s been rather difficult the past month in trying to balance being a Volunteer Coordinator while living with the backpackers. I am still surviving in my little cabin of B1 and because of that, I share the kitchen/lounge facilities with the volunteer backpackers. Not exactly horrible, but when I finish work for the day and am craving my own space – all I have to laze around in is a cabin the size of a shoebox. But, with any luck, that will all soon change.

The Forest Camp is gearing up for some major staff changes here in the near future. Out Assistant Manager and Duty Managers are all jumping ship – leaving Steve & Lynne (Managers) and myself to run the camp while we hunt down a new couple to take on the roll of Assistant Managers. Long story short, one of the staff houses will be available for use by none other than me. That’s right – an actual house. Seems too good to be true. And so I pretend not to think about it in case it is just that.

But really – a house?! How do I even begin to contemplate how beautifully wonderful that would be?? How can I possibly begin to describe what it would mean to have a place not just to call my own, but somewhere that I could literally settle into and feel at home? The past 7 years of my life have been spent moving from place to place, jumping from one building to the next – never quite staying long enough to officially have changed my address with all my contacts. Not quite officially staying long enough to make the place feel lived in. Never staying longer than a year. Not to mention that of the past two years of my life, a year has been spent living out of tent, six months in a cramped box of a hut and the other six months jumping between flats, house shares, hostels and sleeping on people’s couches. To go from all of that to my very own two bedroom house would be a dream, to say the very least.

Lynn Lunn (2nd from left) plays in the band for a little
birthday party entertainment

To have one single roof over my head – a place where I can not only sleep, but eat, shower and have space to relax. A place with enough space to have people over. A place where I can get back into my art. A place to hang pictures and cook meals. A place to grow a garden. A place to make memories and call home. Like I said – it’s too good to be true.

And so I try not to think about it. But that’s difficult to do when the idea of moving into a house seems like the only stable thing in my life right now. I still don’t know about my visa and as far as I know – it might be until nearly the end of the year before I hear back just due to how long it will take to process my Canadian police check. I don’t have a clue what’s going to happen with the staff here – the gap in the team that Julie, Geoff and Stuart will leave here at the camp is tremendous and I try not to think about it. I try not to think about who is going to potentially fill their shoes. It’s out of my hands and up to Steve and Lynne to make that decision. Even the thought of how long it’s been since I’ve been back to Canada is something I push from my mind – the only thing that seems remotely realistically within my grasp is the potential to have my very own house. And even that still comes down to waiting.

So I count down the days to everything that could be. Might be. Should be. Will be. I count down the days to when I might hear word on my visa. I count down the days to when we could have new Assistant Managers at the camp. I count down the days to when I think I should be going back to Canada. I count down the days to when it will be a year from when Alex and I first stepped foot on Te Araroa Trail.

Steve and I make the climb up Mt. Isobel for the sunrise.

And as I spend my days feeling like The Count off of Sesame Street, I am increasingly more aware of how important it is to make the most out of life as it comes. The other day a friend in Hanmer Springs had her birthday. She turned 70. At her party that consisted of live entertainment and two Māori hāngi (pronounced [‘ha-ŋi]) which is a traditional New Zealand Māori method of cooking food using heated rocks buried in a pit oven with the ground, commonly used for special occasions. Oh – and then about a million people. Lynn literally invited pretty well all of Hanmer Springs and encouraged people to bring whomever they wanted to the party. And then there was her family. Brothers, sisters, daughters, sons, grandchildren and great-grandchildren – it was more of a family reunion than a birthday party. And the best part was that as an outsider, you still felt like part of a family. It was the biggest gathering of love that I had ever seen. Everyone just rocked up to one of Lynn’s daughter’s back garden with their own drink in hand and spent the evening chatting it up with everyone and everyone. There was a massive poster to sign for Lynn of which I can only imagine what she thought while reading it over the next day – many signatures were from people she would have never met before.

The food was fabulous, but the bit that got me the most was the big collage of photos from Lynn’s life. Here was a woman captured throughout her years – her full life of everything that life could be. I have only gotten to know her in the past six months – months of which we worked together, did Robin Hood together, played darts together and spent many moments just simply spending time together. The few stories she’s told me and those I’ve heard about her have just left me completely inspired to continue living life to the full. And that’s exactly what she has done – and it was all captured within the collage. Her as a child with a goofy face. Her riding a bike, completely care-free. Her with her siblings. Her with her children. Her living life.

Solar panels get added to the new
toilet/shower block at the camp.

And that is probably what inspires me most about Lynn Lunn. She has found a way to live life completely to the full without a need or desire to take more than what life has given her. She has never left New Zealand. Hates to fly. Has grown up in the Hanmer Springs area as something like a 5-generation family member and still loves it to bits. She knows everyone and anyone in Hanmer Springs and gets along with practically everyone she meets (hence the large crowd at her party). She makes the most out of the life she has and loves every minute of it. She doesn’t apologize for what she has done in life or who she is. She accepts people for who they are as much as what she accepts herself for who she is.

She is everyone’s grandma. Everyone’s mother. Everyone’s sister and friend. She is the person you could talk to about anything. She is the person who is up for anything. She exudes this passion for life that I have seen in few people and all it does is make me want more.

Lynn has lived 70 years on this planet and has so many stories to tell and yet she is still going strong. I only hope that by the time I reach that age that I can say I have lived like she has. Danced as she has. Laughed as she has. Loved as she has.

And as much as Lynn has inspired me in life, so has so many other people. She reminds me of family back home of whom I think of regularly and am reminded of what is important in life. I have come to realize that life isn’t about what job you have, where you have been, how much money you have or who you know. Life is about the simple things. About going after your dream. About loving the people in your life for who they are. About taking that risk to become a better person. About taking the smallest moments in life and living them to the full. Life is about life.

So as I wait for so much of the life that I hope will be, I am still taking the time to live to the full with what I have. Morning runs have become a regular thing, many being accompanied by Steve & Lynne’s dog – Jess – and as I spent the first hour of light letting my feet lead me up, down and all around the forest trails, I feel blessed to know that this is my life. Blessed that I can sweat my way up to the top of a mountain saddle or hilltop and then stretch my tired muscles as I watch the sunrise. Blessed that I can push my body, all the while laughing at Jess as she comes tearing around the corner in an effort to outrun me.

It’s moments like that that I treasure. Moments like when me and Cat go out for dinner at a local pub and just spend time having a nice meal by the fire. Moments like when I see the kids from the next school group coming to the camp – faces that have no power to contain the excitement bubbling inside. Moments like that are what matter.

Dance, Sing, Floss and Travel

Dance, sing, floss and travel.

~ Lululemon

I find it hard to believe that I am here in New Zealand still. Continuously I have to pinch myself to remind myself that it's not a dream. This is my reality. And it's awesome. Now that Robin Hood is done, my short acting career has come to a close and life is slowly returning back to normal. I got my hair cut (it's been a year). I got some new shoes (I'd been trading off between gumboots and borrowing Alex's). I went and joined the weekly darts tournament. That's right - darts. Never played before, but I figured it'd be interesting to learn and get to know some more people. It was a blast and I can't wait till I can actually throw the dart where I want to.

I've begun experimenting with cooking - spicy chicken fajitas. Pumpkin and chickpea curry. Hearty lamb and veggie soup. Yum. Not to mention the fact that I FINALLY invested in a hairdryer. I've been without one since I started travelling over two years ago. Went okay when in Australia and my hair would dry in two seconds with the heat all year round, but here at the camp -- well, I tend to think twice when there's frost on the ground and I have to scamper in-between buildings with wet hair as my exhaled breath clogs my vision.

Yup. Life is good. It is simple. Next week I hope to get up to the slopes to do some much-needed snowboarding. With any luck I won't be constantly comparing New Zealand's snow to the deep powder back in Canada. It'd also be cool to head out of Hanmer Springs and go exploring in the nearby areas. Kaikoura comes to mind. In the meantime I've got work to focus on as well as a decision of what to do in a month's time. The clock keeps on ticking.

The other week I walked home after an evening spent catching up with friends at a local pub while listening to live music and I found myself alone on the road. In the dark. Surrounded by the Hanmer Forest. All I could do was stand in awe as millions of stars shone brightly above me. Shooting stars darted across the sky and I made my wishes. And then I danced my way home, not caring who saw. Because it was dark. Because I was alone. Because there was a good song on my iPod. Because I could.

That seems to be the theme here in Hanmer Springs for me. As I look back over my time that I have spent here, so much of what I have chosen to do has been because I could. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I would be spending these past few months running a half marathon. Never would I have thought I would be taking the lead role in a local pantomime production nor would I have thought I would be taking photographs for the camp to update their website. Not to mention I never thought I would be sleeping in a box of a cabin while I spent my days cleaning toilets for minimal money. And not wanting to really change a thing.

Hanmer Springs - living in a snow globe

And so... because I can – I have made the decision to stay on a while longer yet. Steve and Lynne at the camp have graciously offered me a newly-created job position to work at the camp as a Volunteer and Fundraiser Coordinator. As the camp has never had someone filling in this role before it would be an amazing experience (and big challenge) to step into that position and see what I can do. Everything I have been doing in the past few years has been leading up to this point and I’m totally stoked to see where it will take me. Sure, there are many - many question marks surrounding what this all means for my future, but I am okay with that. It will all work itself out.

As someone close to me recently said, “good things take time,” I am well aware that the universe is telling me to be patient for what is yet to come in my life. I have been discovering that decisions such as these really are not as simple as what they first appear. Making the decision to stay on was one thing. Developing a solid job description of what I would be doing was the next. What has followed those few minor days of angst have been a whirlwind emotional rollercoaster ride which has left me both completely brain-fried and breathless – not to mention the inside of my cheeks are totally munted from me unconsciously chewing on them to relieve the stress.

See – technically I am not actually applying to extend my working holiday visa. I am applying for a completely new work visa to stay in New Zealand. Quite simply because it would allow me more flexibility to stay on for a longer chunk of time and get the most out of the experience. At this point I am looking at a general scope of two years to stay on. Yes – I know – two whole years. It seems crazy, but why not?

And so with the decision to do something like this, the paperwork to fill out has piled up. My phone bill has been exceeded multiple times in order to contact related persons of interest in order to answer my many (so many) questions of what is involved to get this right. I went to Christchurch at 6 a.m. one day to try and get in for a medical check-up only to find myself on the side of the road as me and Nick fixed a flat tire we got after driving over some invisible object that made Nick’s wheel rim spontaneously explode. No joke. When we eventually made it to Christchurch and Nick dropped me off at the doctor’s, I quickly found out I wouldn’t be getting the check-up needed for my visa application. I had forgotten my passport back in Hanmer Springs. So I went shopping instead.

When I finally made it back to Christchurch a few days later (passport securely in hand), I went through the agonizing process of waiting my turn to get a chest x-ray, then blood work, blood pressure, height, weight, waist circumference (not sure what that had to do with helping me to stay in New Zealand) and an urinalysis. Never knew peeing in a cup was such a skill. From that they told me I was not pregnant. Good to know. $428 later, I left the doctor’s office with a lighter wallet and a spinning head. I hadn’t eaten since the night before because of the blood tests and it was now after one in the afternoon.

The next hurdle was the “proof of character.” Aka: Criminal Record Check. Aka: Police Certificate. As I am in New Zealand, this process involves me getting fingerprints done at a police station here and then sending them to Canada along with a processing fee of which I then wait patiently for them to process the request and return me the Police Certificate. Sounds simple in theory, but when considering time is my enemy here, and the Canadian Post has a tendency to go on strike every other month; the estimated time of processing by the RCMP of 12 weeks seems like an eternity. Even still, while in Christchurch I went on the hunt for the nearest police station. It happened to be a good half an hour walk to the city centre from Riccarton where across the street the Bridge of Remembrance sat completely munted still from the February earthquake. I walked inside and stated my request to the receptionist only to be informed that they only do fingerprinting in the morning. It was nearly 2:30 p.m. Fortunately for me there wasn’t much crime going on that day and there happened to be a constable available with nothing better to do but roll my fingers in black ink. Perfect. Within 15 minutes I was done. If only the actual processing of the fingerprints was as easy.

And so it goes. There have been issues of trying to get a money order from the bank here in Hanmer Springs only to be denied because I am not a customer of that bank (and therefore I have to potentially go to Christchurch again). There’s been the issue of ensuring the Hanmer Springs Forest Camp Trust is behind the decision to create a new job position. There’s still the issue of where I am going to be sleeping every night as I surely don’t want to be holed up in a small cabin for the next two years of my life. And now the issue of my quickly depleting bank funds due to all the fees involved with processing the application. Not to mention the fact that if my current visa expires before the new one gets processed then I am essentially stuck in New Zealand as I would have no legal right to leave or enter until I get word from the immigration office. Guess my dreams of a holiday on a hot tropical beach on some island north of here will be out of the question for the next few months.


Alex and I make it into the current issue of
NZ Fitness Magazine for trekking Te Araroa Trail

 But that’s all fairly minor in comparison to what this means as far as my overall lifestyle is concerned. Because that is what this comes down to – me choosing to stay here in Hanmer Springs is a lifestyle choice. It is choosing a community that has welcomed me with open arms. It is choosing a slower-paced life that allows me to do everything I’ve always wanted to do and then some. It is choosing to live where my backyard is the mountains all around me. It is choosing to do something to push myself further. It’s choosing a challenge of a new job that will add to my experience in the area of community development and social services. It is choosing to just be.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about what I will be giving up in order to stay here. And that thought is very difficult to contemplate. How does one choose something like this and not feel remotely torn up over knowing it will mean a further extension of separation from loved ones back at home? Granted, I have already done two years, so what’s two more? But the thing is – when I started travelling, that was all it was. Travelling. There was no time limit, no expectation or commitment for when I would be done. It just was. One day at a time – see where it would take me. I just never thought it would take me here.

And sure, two years is not forever, but it is still a long time. A lot can happen in two years, the last two years is surely a case in point. And it’s heartbreaking to know that in choosing to stay here in New Zealand, I am missing out in what is going on back in Canada. Birthday’s, holidays, summers, winters, coffee dates and movies. In choosing to live here I am giving up living in Canada. Right now it’s not forever, but two years is still two years.

Yet, even still, I know that this is right for me. Provided I get accepted, of course. Lululemon’s four small words certainly ring true to me in this time of waiting. Because I have danced. Because I have sung. Because I have flossed. Because I most definitely have travelled. And it still isn’t over. It never is. This is the journey that never ends.

Successful People

Successful people replace the words ‘wish,’ ‘should’ and ‘try’ with ‘I will.’

~ Lululemon

This past week has been something of a massive whirlwind of dreams and goals – some of the past and some of the future. Between finishing Robin Hood (went awesome!) and enjoying a fabulous Christmas in July (YAY for snow!) the days have flown by. It’s hard to believe that in about a month my time as I know it here in New Zealand will come to an end. And as they say – when one door closes…. Another opens, right? It’s just I haven’t a clue which door to choose. Still.

Yup – that’s right. I still don’t know what is to become of me and my life a month from now. A month from now everything as I know it will come to an end. And all I can think about is everything that has brought me to this point. Every choice I have made. Every day I have lived. Every breath I have breathed. To get me to this point. It was not an easy ride and it certainly won’t be one I will ever forget.



Robin Hood (me) and his mother discuss the complications of ACC

 Straight from that first day I set off into the bush to walk from Banff to Vancouver, I knew I was in for something big. Just not this big. I never figured I would ever be at the point I am today. At the point of which I am so completely and utterly torn in two as to what to do. Where to go. Which door to open next. I never figured I would meet so many incredible people along my way. People that would turn my world upside-down. People who would become like family. People who will forever be imprinted on my soul.

I never figured in my wildest dreams I would do the things I have done. Never would I have thought I would have climbed the mountains I have. Crossed the rivers I did. Seen the wildlife I have. So much more than the birds and the bees. Try bears. Dolphins. Whales. Crocodiles. Snakes. Millions of sand flies. I never figured I would see the places I have. To be able to visit locations I have only ever seen in photos. Now those photos are mine. The memories engraved in my mind for all of eternity.

And what memories they have been. The moments of pure happiness. The tears of pain. The times of trials and those moments were so bizarre all I could do was laugh. The time spent getting to know someone new and the many goodbyes that followed. The sunrises. The sunsets. The countless kilometers travelled by every mode possible. Plane. Train. Boat. Kayak. Bike. Bus. Car. Oh yeah – and foot.



Siobhan and I in Hanmer Spring's winter wonderland

 But most of all it’s been the people I remember most. The random strangers in the street. The instant friends that I can share anything with. The surrogate grandparents, brothers and sisters. And the numerous acting moms and dads that pretty well have to have a roster to sort out who can lecture me about walking home alone in the dark next. It’s those people that have made my journey what it has become. It’s those people that have made me feel at home – no matter how far from home I actually am.

So what now? That is the big question. The ironic thing is that there is no words like ‘wish,’ ‘should’ or ‘try’ floating around in my head. There’s just the big ‘I will’ and then – nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I haven’t a clue what it is that ‘I will’ do. I just know I will do it. There isn’t even the luxury of being able to choose my head or heart to follow – everything is muddled together. All I have is the luxury of choice and I haven’t quite figured out if ‘luxury’ is the best word to describe it.

Ever since that day I left home – over two years ago – it seems as though many of my decisions have come to me. As though they were meant to be. As though there could be no other way other than the one that lay before me. Maybe there was no other choice. Maybe there was. It didn’t matter much. I just went with it. And I have been going with it up until this point. Up until this moment in time. Up until now. And now everything has changed.

Now I just realize how much it is only me a part of this decision. It is only me who can make it. It is only me who will move forward. Wherever I go, I know I will have those who support me and those who may question it – but it is my decision to make. I think the big reason I hesitate in actually making the decision is the grieving process linked to what I will be letting go in order to make it. Whatever I choose will mean the end of something spectacular. It will not just mean the end of a chapter, but the end of a book. It will mean saying goodbye to so much that is a part of who I now am. It will mean letting go of the life I have come to love. It will mean saying goodbye to those I love.

But the other side of that door is looking pretty spectacular as well. What exactly is behind that door is a completely different question. I suppose time will tell and as everyone sits and waits in great anticipation (*rolls eyes*) I’ll just be here doing my pros and cons list. Weeding out what I want from what everyone else thinks I should do and eventually – I reckon it’s going to come down to a coin toss. All I know for certain is that whatever it is…. I WILL do it.

You Can Be a Follower, But Who is Your Leader?

september 10/09

i am now on the move again and this time its back to vancouver. yeah, yeah - i know - i was just there. but ill just be passing through today. i swear.

ive started to come down with a bad case of backpackers budgeting (aka: going to any means possible of trying to save a buck). hense why i woke up this morning at 4 a.m. to catch the ferry. hense why im choosing to travel for 15 hours today. hense why im going back to vancouver. its cheaper.

in my last few days of researching for the best route to take to get to LA - i discovered something. ferries arent always a nice and convenient way of travelling. but, when they are - theyre freaking fabulous! i have learned that ferries are ridiculously expensive under 2 specific conditions - a) when travelling via car on the ferry and b) when being a passenger on a ferry that does not carry cars. the latter is the type of ferry that transports people directly between victoria and seattle. in order to ride the "clipper" i have been quoted prices anywhere from $69 to $85 USD. and thats just one-way.

so when i looked into my other options i found that i could get to vancouver for $9 CAD (its $13.50 on weekends), take the bust to the train station ($5 CAD), then take the trian to portland for $49 CAD. thats only a total of $63 CAD and id be further along my route than if i took the clipper to seattle. the downside is that, yes, i had to catch the 7 a.m. ferry, roll out of bed at 4 a.m. and i probably wont be to portland untill 9 pm tonight. to me its worth it because it adds a little extra adventure to my trip.

as it stands, today has been fairly uneventful so far, save for the fact that both the bus and ferry have chosen to blast the air conditioning as though its 30 degrees outside. i stubbornly refuse to cave to my desire of buying a cozy hoodie - hot chocolate is cheaper.

yesterday i spent the day hanging out with a friend i havent seen for years. shemine and i explored the shores of victoria, checked out the bunny infestation at the university (they are overcome with over 1000 bunnies all because someone had decided it would be a good idea to leave a box of their unwanted ones on the property some time ago... they have since multiplied) and hung out - catching up on all our stories. it was nice to see a familiar face again and it was sad we only had a few hours together.

the rest of the afternoon i went running around downtown like a mad woman - trying to find a sleep mask (the brilliant yet dorky things that cover your eyes to block out light as you sleep) for less than $5, sold my books at a bookstore and explored chinatown. by 9 p.m. i was in bed and almost was able to fall asleep right away. that was untill one of my new roomies had the fabulous idea of blowdrying her hair in our room at 10 p.m. geez.

anyway - the ferry is almost at vancouver here. i should start attempted to figure out what bus will actually get me to the train station.

****

i cant stand to touch anything at this hotel. i think thats a first for me. im just thankful i wont have to worry about being cold tonight now that ive thrown all the bedding on the floor. its a hot one tonight in portland.

the train made it in right on schedule and once i got off, it took me a bit to find someone who could tell me when the bus leaves for bend tomorrow. i figured if it was super early in the a.m. id just catch my shut-eye at the train station rather than find a place to sleep for the night. i was told that the bus would not leave untill 1:30 pm the following day. i was astounded to find out that the bus also would cost me $46-49 USD for a one-way trip from portland to bend. thats MORE than what the train cost from vancouver to portland. sheesh.

anyway - i requested directions to the nearest hostel and was sent walking 20 blocks away to find it. eventually i made it there and asked if they had a room for the night. they didnt. the lady at the desk gave me the phone number for the other hostel in portland and i went to use the phone, but another lady got there first. she apparently had decided that NOW (at 9:45 pm) would be a good time to call some place for an eco-tour she wanted to go on the following day. the clincher? as she stood there rambling on forever into the hostel phone, she was holding onto a cellphone. sheesh.

eventually i was able to use the phone and called the other hostel. they informed me that, yes, they had room but that they were closing down shop in 10 minutes. there was no way i could make it across downtown in 10 minutes - even by bus. i reluctantly hung up the phone and was struck by the curious thought of why a hostel would be CLOSING up at 10 pm on a thursday night. wierd.

so i thought that maybe i would just walk around downtown and see if i could come up with any other brilliant ideas. i knew that if worst came to worse i could always go back to the train station and crash there. so i walked. and walked. and walked. as i was taking in the buildings of downtown portland, i saw movement out of the corner of my eye. i looked down to the sidewalk and there was this big rat staring back of me not more than 2 feet away. i had never seen a rat before and all i could think about was that show called fear factory that occassionally challenges people to sit in a box and see how long they can stand a bunch of rats running over their body. seeing this rat up close and personal - i dont think i could do something like that. fortunately the rat decided to squirm its way down through the grate that was on the side of the sidewalk. i continued on my way.

a few blocks later a guy approached me and asked, "whats the best nation in the world?" i told him i had no idea, figuring he must be some drunk guy all happy on USA love. he answered, "its a donation!" i was so confused as to where this conversation was going. he then handed me a card and asked if i ever eat at soup kitchens. i told him no, and he said that the card would get me a free meal at one - right. i walked away and wondered if he was handing out cards to everyone or if i had started to take on the look of a homeless person in need of a hot meal on a late thursday night. who knows.

after a while i made it to the kent hotel. as advertised, they had both hostel dorm rooms available and super cheap single rooms. they only had the single rooms available so i booked one for the night. as i climbed the stairs to my room i began to have second thoughts. i had seen a sign posted near the prices that stated the hotel required an ID from all persons booking rooms and that they were willing to take prison IDs. perfect. i also reflected on how the hotel was directly beside a local club and decided that it would be best to quickly find my room and lock the door for the night.

by the time i got to my room i was exhausted, but felt on high alert. the shared bathroom i passed on the way up had a large stain in the middle of the floor and someone had casually tossed an used diaper near the toilet. the floors and walls were built on odd angles and everything felt as though it was going to cave in at any moment. i opened the door to my room and was immediately faced with the smell of stale smoke. i gingerly set my bag down in the cleanest corner i could find and was careful not to touch anything.

the floor was sticky, there was stains on all layers of the bedding, the TV unit had some sticky goop on it and there was some type of dry animal food scattered in along the floorboards. i stripped the bed and layed out my sleep sheet as there was no way i was going to sleep on what they had provided me with. i carefully made sure that nothing of mine touched any questionable areas of the room and reminded myself that i would only use the common washroom for emergency-related purposes. fortunately i managed to fall asleep rather quickly.


september 11/09

today is the anniversary of september 11 and as i have spent time walking around portland here - its all ive heard about on the news and radio. i havent quite figured out what i think of portland and that might simply be because i have spent a majority of my time here either attempting (and finally succeeding) to get a place to stay at last night or waiting for my bus to arrive today.

the types of people i have seen around give portland (or at least the downtown of portland) a very eccletic feel to it. homeless people distribute themselves among the streets, claiming their piece of concrete in anyway they can. as this goes on, people all dressed up bustle down the streets on the way to their jobs - all the while cyclists and drivers zip down the streets.

during my wanderings around downtown as i waited for my bus, i met katie who happened to have stayed in the kent hotel last night as well. i asked her how her experience was and she told me that she had been asked twice, by 2 separate men if they could pay her for sex. she had later been asked by another man if he could pay her to let him sleep in her room (no sex) -- she declined all the offers and was thouroughly creeped out. i dont blame her. we spent the next hour or so chatting it up about our experiences of portland and surrounding areas untill we decided to part ways. i decided to check out a second hand clothing store to which i could only wish that i had more money and room in my bag as it was the first time i have ever found a second hand clothing store where i could find some good stuff. instead i walked away emptihanded and returned to the train station to wait for my bus.

****

well - i have made it to bend and it was a rather uneventful ride over here. since then i have just spent time catching up with my extended family and i am ready for bed.


september 12/09

today was a blast. me, tim and shelley (my aunt and uncle) went out for a mountain bike ride. i havent gone to do that in so long so i was both stoked and a little nervous. we ended up going on a path that was rather dusty, so we ended the ride with the 3 of us wiping dirt off of our teeth. regardless, it was a ton of fun to be able to get out there and be in the fresh air - especially when we ended the ride by going to visit mackenzie (my cousin) at her work at the local smoothie shop to get a refreshing drink.

the rest of the day i just lazed around a read a book - catching in some of the afternoon rays.


september 13/09

today we all piled into the car and drove out to OSU (oregon state university) to help chelsey move into her dorm. it was crazy to be back at an university and it brought back so many memories of when i went to UofA. we then went out to lunch and then piled back into the car for the slightly long ride back to bend.



NOTE: i have completely filled up my most recent photo album of "west coast adventures" and have started another one that you can check out at: WEST COAST ADVENTURES (2)