Hocking a loogie and wishing for World Peace

They say when a woman gives birth and experiences the magical sensation of holding her newborn for the first time she is overwhelmed with her first true feelings of unconditional love...a love which I can only relate to how I feel about Gerty (and yes Betty has been renamed.) Now, Gerty is a 1997 piece of automobile history if you ask me and is quite particular in her likes/dislikes:
Name: Gertrude...Gerty for short
Likes: Long drives on the beach, parking underneath the stars, driving insync to the likes of Cat Stevens and 80s anything and everything
Dislikes: bumpy nonsealed roads, radio stations broadcasting how Jesus will save her soul and road rage
General Description: Child bearing hips good for supporting extra baggage in the trunk, has a few character defining dents and scrapes..all aquired in pursuit of tracking down villains, robbers, rapists, the likes, an engine that purrs like a lifelong smoker and yes her favorite book is "The Little Engine That Could" and she thinks hybrid cars are the yuppys of today's generation and much prefers old clunkers like herself
...but enough about my love child.
So this past week was spent driving from Nelson to Farewell Spit and back to Nelson (where I am currently.) Driving in general in this country is a real pleasure...with the lack of traffic due to the fact that sheep outnumber people in New Zealand makes long drives much enjoyable. Setting out on highway 6 I found myself overcome with feelings of excitement and a bit of nerves as well. I mean having the freedom to travel the whole entire country for a good two months...making your own route, starting and stopping wherever you want is a type of independence I had never experienced before. Of course this made me sing aloud to all my guilty pleasure music selections on the radio with a little headbanging thrown in there for good measure, roll down all the windows and make a point to stop at almost EVERY possible detour along the way...including the very exciting world of wearable arts museum and a rock that resembled an old man's face.
I drove through magestic mountains that can only be described as straight out of fairy tales, with snow-capped mountains, lush green dense forests covering the base of the mountains, clear rivers cutting through the base of the mountains...the roads through the mountains were extremely windy giving my abs a good workout from the constant shifting of the steering wheel from side to side...I found myself like a true tourist stopping every 10 feet to pullover and take a picture only to realize 10 feet up the road was an even better spot to take pictures...again thank god for the lack of traffic because it allowed me at times to travel under the speed limit so I could SAFELY get a good look at the everchanging jawdropping beautiful scenery surrounding me. Quite frequently there were detours to different beaches along the way. The beaches were all beautiful some with the typical white sand, but the more up the coast I traveled the more I encountered golden sandy beaches...it is hard to adequately describe the feeling that arises when you walk the span of a beach, sit atop some rocks on the edge of the beach and look back on to a seemingly endless path of your footsteps spanning the entire beach...and knowing for that one moment in time without a soul in sight you own that beach...and yes in a couple of hours the tide will come in and wash away your footprints just like it has with past travelers, but for that moment you have made your mark on the world.
I had the opportunity to venture on a couple of treks as well...the first hike I did was Takaka Hills which encompassed a combination of limestone, pastureland and beautiful views of golden bay...as evidenced from the pictures my only real competition for the trail came from the cows...and even when they weren't directly blocking the path their massive piles of shit were...I guess you can really say I have been viewing this country with fresh eyes because I ended up walking the trail 1.5 times before realizing I had already been up the path...but then again in this country it is so easy to get lost in the natural beauty.
I drove up to Totaranui, but not before doing a little tramping down to Aroha (another part of the Abel Tasman Coastal Track (one of the great walks in New Zealand.) I think I'm beginning to start to understand the magic of hiking...it is such a great opportunity to really clear your mind and sort through your life or at the very least scream at the top of your lungs to Ace of Base. The walk to Aroha was through a very lush, wet rain forest atmosphere with low-hanging banches, green moss covering everything and frequent corssings of little streams. The drive to Totaranui was along an unselaed very windy road and much to my delight I found myself caught behind a rabbit, bless it's dear soul, that didn't exactly understand the idea of jumping off the road to get out of the way and proceeded to hop for it's dear life ahead of Gerty...at times going well over 30km. At totaranui I explored the beach, hiked a bit more of different parts of the abel tasman track and did a lot of reading/journaling.
I'm almost embarrased to admit it, but I usually find myself going to bed at 8 at the latest and awaking at around 6am...there is just something so nice about rising and falling with the natural rhythms of the sun. One thing I wasn't expecting from traveling was becoming such a reader...I find I really crave the comfort of a good book along the road...not just for the obvious escape it provides, but for the intellectual stimulation that can sometimes be overlooked after months and months of traveling.
From Totaranui I hit pohara beach then made my way up the coast towards Farewell Spit...which of course had one of the biggest impacts on me thus far in my travels and I didn't have a working camera to capture the magical place...but maybe its better that way...forced me to really take in all the sights and sounds. I started out walking out along golden ashy beaches with the mountains in the background, white sandunes in the distance and a marshy wetland like atmosphere surrounding me...the type of place I'd envison you would find many a blue heron. The sand tended to make up little pocketed islands that were separated from one another by streams of water ranging from a few inches to a foot in depth...but easily navigable by foot. As I traversed my way from island to island, with a blue sky overhead, a few clouds in the sky resembling cotton that had been stretched apart and a rainbow far off in the distance, I could see a good 100 black swans gathering...With such a thin layer of sand separating the actual water from your foot it felt like you were tramping on a waterbed as each step gave way to a little bounce and giggle of the surrounding sand, the sand was covered in a rippled pattern that was mimiced in the water bodies nearby...created by the strong gusts of winds that at times were so strong that they caused my pants to act as sails. Some fo the black swans were flying low to the ground, creating an almost drumroll sound effect as they took flight and their white tipped wings flapped in the air, others floated along the water, but most just stood in groups debating whether to stay and make their way through the maze of sandy islands or venture into the great bay that lay just a few feet away. I can't tell you exactly why it's called farewell spit...maybe because it kind of looks like pools of spit...but for whatever reason I decided upon leaving the area to pay my respects by making a wish as I hocked a loogie and shouted 'farewell spit.'
This next week I will be heading to Nelson Lakes National Park and making my way to Westport and Greymouth...possibly, but who knows...that's what's so nice about this lifestyle...there are no set plans...everythings up in the air...and as long as I have gas in the tank and tunes blaring then this girl...or shall I say woman is utterly content. On that note a HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY to all you mother's out there that are reading this...but most importantly to my mom...I love you!