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.

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. 

happy single's awareness day

so... it's that time again. that time when all us singles are recognized for our singleness. it's that time of year when ppl keep asking - "so do YOU have any plans for V-day?" they always emphasize the "you" and it's irritating. it's even more irritating that those who are in a "relationship" seem to flaunt it more... unknowingly (or so they say) to us singles. maybe im a little bitter... but it's okay, cuz i DO have plans for good ol' single's awareness day and im gonna have a freakin awesome time............. without being forced to buy or receive a single cheezy, over-priced, pink + red V-day merchandise. so cheers to all u single ppl out there and have an awesome single's awareness day!