It is rare to feel at home in a foreign country, yet rarer to dislike it.
By no means other than mental have I always been traveling since I first left home. The last 4 years and a bit have been littered with irregular sashays in all sorts of places and states of mind, and the form has changed with every dance. However the one constant, the sole familiar aspect of each day has been the bottomless drive to continue, to keep going, to soldier on.. so it is understandably quite an odd feeling to arrive at a place that is simultaneously where you came from and where you want to go.
New Zealand is.
The beaches are wild and pure, the peaks cold but welcoming. The rivers glow an unbelievably blue clarity, which betrays the ghostly white stones lining it's breadth and shore. Hobbits are nowhere to be seen, but their houses and green pastures can be, and the smell of weed is always just around the next corner, of which there are many. And the language, while rugged and featured much like it's adherents, resembles all Anglophone dialects; initially hard to understand and the source of much pride.
This next bit is probably not of interest unless you hitchhike yourself and/or are planning on traveling in New Zealand.
Hitchhiking in the North Island is easy and fast. At no point did I wait longer than 20 minutes for a ride, and at that length only once. I jammed with a sailboat bar owner outside of Taupo. I got a ride 323 kilometers (a decent chunk of NZ) in a BMW sports car, from Turangi to Wellington. One older Mauri gentleman dropped me off at a gas station and left with a handshake. 10 minutes later he wheeled back into the car lot and threw me a good luck Tiki. One entertaining ride involved a young guy who liked speed and technology using his police speed detector detector to ensure his wild rampage through the sharp corner infested countryside continued with no more than a single hitch, who happened to be sitting next to him providing ample high fives and wide grins.
The thing I heard most on the South Island was that the people there were more friendly than those from the North Island, which I suppose is kinder than saying the Northern brethren were less friendly. Maybe it's just semantics. But I found neither case to be true, at least when it came to hitchhiking. I waited 2 hours in Picton after walking a couple kilometers out of town from the ferry terminal. 1 ride got me as far as Blenheim, and another couple kilometers of walking gave me the opportunity to wait another 2 hours. This ride was with an elderly gentleman who was going on a week-long jaunt in the mountains, and who probably is high on my list of absolute legends I've been lucky enough to meet. The man went off on his own all the time, hunting, fishing or just tramping for days and weeks at a time, drove a '58 Land Cruiser, and had some bad-ass stories that kept me thoughtful for the next day of waiting and walking west. Eventually I got lucky, and either a half crazy drug dealer or a severely persecuted chemist brought me all the way from Saint Arnaud to Greymouth, made me dinner and a coffee, and gifted me with several tabs of concentrated cactus essence out of a mindblowingly large arsenal of mental stimulants and depressants.
Eventually I reached Fox Glacier, where I believed I had a job for the summer lined up. 5 days of work experience gave me the opportunity to take 2 seasons of work as a glacier guide, along with a renewed desire to keep moving. I chose the latter, and continued around the South Island for a couple months. Hitchhiking was never as easy as it was on the North Island, however I am alive and did get to most of the places I wanted to go at the time, usually within the time I was expecting to reach them. I can recommend the very nice and quiet hostel in Bluff, the climbing crags littered around Dunedin, chilling at Castle Hill, and wandering in downtown Christchurch after midnight. Queenstown and Wanaka are awesome places, but that seems to be a point on which the massive hordes of tourists and van-dwellers seem to agree the most.
Other places - Wellington is a cool city, but still a city. I agree with everyone else who stayed in Auckland for 3 days and no longer - it's horrible. The area is awesome around Lake Taupo as well - I had the chance to do a raft guide cameo on the Tongariro river, thanks to Jennie and Dan. I managed to ice climb and surf in the same day, mixed with some heli rides, whiskey and bonfires - for that Fox Glacier is incomparable - thanks Anna. And the whole west coast of the South Island is pretty dope if you want a healthy mix of bad-ass climbing, mountain business and disgusting night-time ruckus.
The information bit's over.
I didn't stay longer than a few months in New Zealand for one main reason and several smaller ones. I didn't see the point in feeling I was at home and wanting to travel, while not being able to take advantage of the benefits home has, like seeing family and friends again. It won't be until the fall that I leave Canada again, and who knows for how long it will be that time.
Anyways, thanks to the awesome people in New Zealand who put up with my shit for so long, especially Duncan, Lex, Asia, Dani and Adam. I managed to take couch surfing to a whole new level, and there is definitely a large build up of karma I will have to repay at some point. Same goes for you, Kenan; there is a bottle of fine scottish whiskey and a bloody rematch waiting for you whenever I have a couch you can stay on.
cheers.
By no means other than mental have I always been traveling since I first left home. The last 4 years and a bit have been littered with irregular sashays in all sorts of places and states of mind, and the form has changed with every dance. However the one constant, the sole familiar aspect of each day has been the bottomless drive to continue, to keep going, to soldier on.. so it is understandably quite an odd feeling to arrive at a place that is simultaneously where you came from and where you want to go.
New Zealand is.
The beaches are wild and pure, the peaks cold but welcoming. The rivers glow an unbelievably blue clarity, which betrays the ghostly white stones lining it's breadth and shore. Hobbits are nowhere to be seen, but their houses and green pastures can be, and the smell of weed is always just around the next corner, of which there are many. And the language, while rugged and featured much like it's adherents, resembles all Anglophone dialects; initially hard to understand and the source of much pride.
This next bit is probably not of interest unless you hitchhike yourself and/or are planning on traveling in New Zealand.
Hitchhiking in the North Island is easy and fast. At no point did I wait longer than 20 minutes for a ride, and at that length only once. I jammed with a sailboat bar owner outside of Taupo. I got a ride 323 kilometers (a decent chunk of NZ) in a BMW sports car, from Turangi to Wellington. One older Mauri gentleman dropped me off at a gas station and left with a handshake. 10 minutes later he wheeled back into the car lot and threw me a good luck Tiki. One entertaining ride involved a young guy who liked speed and technology using his police speed detector detector to ensure his wild rampage through the sharp corner infested countryside continued with no more than a single hitch, who happened to be sitting next to him providing ample high fives and wide grins.
The thing I heard most on the South Island was that the people there were more friendly than those from the North Island, which I suppose is kinder than saying the Northern brethren were less friendly. Maybe it's just semantics. But I found neither case to be true, at least when it came to hitchhiking. I waited 2 hours in Picton after walking a couple kilometers out of town from the ferry terminal. 1 ride got me as far as Blenheim, and another couple kilometers of walking gave me the opportunity to wait another 2 hours. This ride was with an elderly gentleman who was going on a week-long jaunt in the mountains, and who probably is high on my list of absolute legends I've been lucky enough to meet. The man went off on his own all the time, hunting, fishing or just tramping for days and weeks at a time, drove a '58 Land Cruiser, and had some bad-ass stories that kept me thoughtful for the next day of waiting and walking west. Eventually I got lucky, and either a half crazy drug dealer or a severely persecuted chemist brought me all the way from Saint Arnaud to Greymouth, made me dinner and a coffee, and gifted me with several tabs of concentrated cactus essence out of a mindblowingly large arsenal of mental stimulants and depressants.
Eventually I reached Fox Glacier, where I believed I had a job for the summer lined up. 5 days of work experience gave me the opportunity to take 2 seasons of work as a glacier guide, along with a renewed desire to keep moving. I chose the latter, and continued around the South Island for a couple months. Hitchhiking was never as easy as it was on the North Island, however I am alive and did get to most of the places I wanted to go at the time, usually within the time I was expecting to reach them. I can recommend the very nice and quiet hostel in Bluff, the climbing crags littered around Dunedin, chilling at Castle Hill, and wandering in downtown Christchurch after midnight. Queenstown and Wanaka are awesome places, but that seems to be a point on which the massive hordes of tourists and van-dwellers seem to agree the most.
Other places - Wellington is a cool city, but still a city. I agree with everyone else who stayed in Auckland for 3 days and no longer - it's horrible. The area is awesome around Lake Taupo as well - I had the chance to do a raft guide cameo on the Tongariro river, thanks to Jennie and Dan. I managed to ice climb and surf in the same day, mixed with some heli rides, whiskey and bonfires - for that Fox Glacier is incomparable - thanks Anna. And the whole west coast of the South Island is pretty dope if you want a healthy mix of bad-ass climbing, mountain business and disgusting night-time ruckus.
The information bit's over.
I didn't stay longer than a few months in New Zealand for one main reason and several smaller ones. I didn't see the point in feeling I was at home and wanting to travel, while not being able to take advantage of the benefits home has, like seeing family and friends again. It won't be until the fall that I leave Canada again, and who knows for how long it will be that time.
Anyways, thanks to the awesome people in New Zealand who put up with my shit for so long, especially Duncan, Lex, Asia, Dani and Adam. I managed to take couch surfing to a whole new level, and there is definitely a large build up of karma I will have to repay at some point. Same goes for you, Kenan; there is a bottle of fine scottish whiskey and a bloody rematch waiting for you whenever I have a couch you can stay on.
cheers.