Jun 07

So, I am finally emphasis on FINALLY leaving Christchurch and will spend this next week finishing up touring the south island and a bit of the north island before heading to the great land of OZ. After spending the last two months constantly on the move it has been nice having a leisurely week in Christchurch and actually unpacking my bag instead of living out of my trunk. It has also given me the chance to really see Christchurch...although honestly you could probably see/do everything this city has to offer in 2 days...so stretching it out to a little over a week has meant me indulging in the creature comforts of an occasional movie, home cooked meals and memorable talks with hostelitizens...a special breed of hostel stayers that take up longterm residency in the hostel, make no real effort to get to know the constant stream of tourists that come in and out, or there are the select few that see this constant flux of tourists as an excuse to get them drunk and go out every night. These hostelitizens also are your best bet to finding the cheapest places in town for internet, booze and food.
Now the hostel I have been staying at in christchurch has been an odd mix of 12 year old boy cross country teams and gassy 70 year old bright yellow long underwear wearing tourists--so on many a night it was the hostelitizens I was forced to seek solace in--that or watch prepubescent boys play monopoly...hostelitizens it was.
Now the three main hostelitizens are two women that may or may not be in a relationship...40 something americans...who seemmed to be constantly trying to be the demi moore's of the hostel..hitting on both the boy toys of the staff and the male travellers--these women I avoided. Then there was a canadian 27 year old guy who made the rare appearence during day hours but usually was at his peak around 5 am as he made his way home from the bars night after night.
One night in particular we got to talking and as we drunkenly in his case and tipsily in mine sipped wine and discussed the state of the world, the environment and America we did our best to offer up solutions...but alas like every other traveller I have encountered--the problems in the world seem too daunting to solve in one night, but the more acceptance and understanding we could offer one another the closer to world peace we seemed to get. I think one thing I wasn't expecting about my travels was how often I would get asked my views about America and what Bush has been doing--I'm the first to admit that I'm not the most informed person when it comes to the government...yet I can tell you all about the Nicole Richie pregnancy scandel...but I find myself wanting to be more informed even going to cnn.com and reading up on things. I like to think that for the handful of tourists I've encoutered I've helped to dispel the American stereotype of Bush loving, gun toting ethnocentricism...but who knows for sure. Anyways back to Mike the Canadian--throughout the course of our discussion he told me a story about his time spent travelling in Asia and one memorable I'd say life altering experience involving a 6 year old girl, poverty like you and I can't even begin to imagine--and the vulnerability and innocense of a child and how it can really put things into perspective--seeing this 27 year old electrician definitely a guy's guy oozing confidence fight back tears as he held out a note that this little girl had given him..humbled me, gave me goosebumps and just further proved to me that even those who seem the most ego driven crumble in the face of pure unadulterated human connections and emotions.
The days following were stressful as I tried to plan my Australia trip, wandered the city with a couple german girls and imparted my 'wisdom' from my travels in the south island. It's funny it seems in recent days I have encountered so many tourists just beginning their travels and as mine near an end I can see just how far I've come both in kilometers and on a more personal level.
Yesterday I took the bus to kaikora which is most known for it's snow covered mountains, beautiful blue waters, seal colonies and of course whales. On the bus I met an 18 year old German girl beginning her travels during her gap year before college. Although her english wasn't all that great and at times I wondered if she suffered from turrets as in the best Borat of accents she alternated between uttering 'a fuck' and 'shiiieeett,' but alas she seemed like good company. We spent the day walking along what we thought was the peninsula walkway only to realize we went the wrong direction and instead of taking in beautiful coastlines and raging waters we were met with cows, cow shit and my pants ripping as I tried to clear a barbed wire fence. We hitched a ride back into town and made plans to meet the next day.
That night I made it back to my hostel where I met some really great people and was sad to learn they were leaving the next day--but for that night the conversation flowed easily and stories of past explorations were traded.
The next morning I met up with the german girl and in the cold rain we made our way finally to the peninsula walk--it was interesting between her broken english and my painfully slooowww dumbed down english conversation we were able to have a pretty interesting discussion about germans, jews and world war II. We got the most intimate view of seals I have had thus far--coming within feet of them--as they tried to conceal themselves under branches from the rain, some seemed to be in comatose stupors as they pointed their noses to the sky and did what I like to call a classic case of the 'classroom narcolespy'. You know when you are sitting in a lecture trying to keep your eyes open yet after less than an hour of sleep the night before and a lecturer so painfully boring you find your head constantly bobbing as you nod in and out of conscience--all the while trying to mask this behind a textbook that so conveniently is upside down.
So, that brings us to the present...tomorrow I leave for picton where I will spend the night then the following morning, my birthday, take the ferry over to the north island, spend a couple days bumming around wellington, the capital, and then on the 4th head to melbourne. My planned route for australia is melbourne to adelaide to darwin to caines down to sydney--so doing this in 6 weeks is definitely going to leave me exhausted but I feel will be more than worth it.
I love and miss you all--have a wonderful weekend--and see you all in 6 weeks! yikes so soon!

Seeing as how I'm nearly 22 and by myself half way across the world I think it is the perfect opportunity to reflect on some of the things I have learned in these past 5 months...so without further ado...life's lessons on the road with yours truely...Jenny:
1. It takes your whole world being turned upside down to really find out what matters to you. I came to New Zealand with the intent to save the environment what I was left with was a couple of months spent mowing someone's lawn and an abstract almost artistic arrangement of bruises painted across my body--from the hard labor you ask? nope, more like the countless times I tripped in my wellies or fell on my bum attempting to jump off a cliff into the swimming hole.
With my program cut three months short I found myself scrambling to try and figure out what to do next--as much as I like spontaneity, when you've spent the last 2 months working 8 hour days with total structure it can be hard to enter a world of unstructured freedom. So, I did what any self respecting 21 year old would do I called my parents. Over the next couple of months I tossed aside my dreams of being the Rachel Carson of my generation and instead did my part in contributing to global warming by keeping the petrol flowing. I learned a lot about myself during that road trip across the south island. I learned that early on being cast into the role of nature girl dictated a lot of my future decisions including majors, summer internships, etc. but what I didn't realize at the time was saving the environment wasn't what got me fired up, rather it was something I respected but could never truly imagine myself doing...the idea of being tied to some oil derrick in chains chanting for the the end of oil exploration and drilling in the antartic--it just wasn't me. Heck I sometimes leave the light on when I leave a room...so me being an environmentalist just seemed out of the question. Life lesson one: be open to change.
2. I have always been a thinker--something my mom and dad could never really relate to. I find it amazing that at times my dad can just stare off into space and literally let his mind go blank whereas my mom somehow lacked the cerebral axon for thought...instead of inner dialogue she constantly engages in a 'thought pattern' she likes to call the running of the mouth. Whereas my head is constantly a chatter--I find it hard to really be in the moment at times because I am constantly visually assessing my surroundings, taking in the sounds, making assesments, reviewing my life...thoughts just like my life never seem to stand still they are constantly playing and replaying in my head--to nauseum at times. So, you can just imagine how fun the prospect of traveling by myself for months on end would seem. But the more time I spent on the trail, sitting on beaches, exploring museums, getting lost in a good book or journaling away in some cafe the quieter the voices got--for the first time I was channeling all of my energy into positive outlets. Life became less about trying to make sense of everything that has ever happened to me and all the decisions for good or bad made in my life and more about moving forward. I used to think that I couldn't really move forward in my life until I had discovered the cure for cancer, cured world hunger and designed for new york's fashion week...funny thing is I never really understood until now...none of that stuff can happen without paying your dues and the groundwork being paved and that as long as I kept waiting for things to happen life would continue to pass me by.
3. Life lesson 3: nothing and I mean nothing is as good as connecting to others. I used to think the 5 minute conversations you had with strangers or the 5 hour long talks you had with a friend arguing over the impact of 'saved by the bell' on our generation is what fostered closeness...boy was I wrong. These last few months I have taken a good hard and at times painful look at myself and realized connections are built upon 'I' statements and joined together by understanding. The more one can level and be real even utter the hated psych 101 'i feel' statements the less guesswork that needs to be done in learning about one another. During this experience I have had some of my highest highs and my lowest lows, but somewhere along the way I stumbled upon myself. Maybe spending months on end completely out of your comfort zone can do that to someone, who knows...regardless I learned and continue to learn that what defines me is how I think and feel not the clothes I wear, the job I aspire to have or the people I know. It's that damn inner beauty everyone is always talking about--it's those people who you pass on the street you might not even utter one word to, but there is something about them that makes you smile, makes you want to be around them--they beam a type of goodness and comfort in their own skin--something we all want yet continue to fall into that trap that material possessions and superficial lifestyles will bring us closer to--never has and never will. Lesson three: inner beauty is where it's at.
...well, that's it for now too beautiful of a day to be kept inside..for all of you or rather maybe just my mom and dad at this point who continue to read my ramblings...god love you. Love you all!

So after 35+ days on the open roads I have temporarily taken up residency in Christchurch until I figure out about the next leg of my trip. Today was an 'emotional' day of sorts, I spent the entire morning cleaning up the car and packing my things away--this was no easy feat...I finally understand how people can turn their cars into further extensions of their rooms and closets--honestly how I accumulated so much crap boggles my mind. When I first came to new zealand I had my backpack, a small backpack and a large purse...after cleaning my car I had all that plus three small duffles worth of crap. Okay a lot of that is me being way too sentimental and holding onto like every damn keepsake from this trip so that when I come home I can make the most comprehnesive scrapbook ever and well the other part is those damn rocks...heavy little buggers.
As I drove the car back to the dealership all I could think about was how much has happened on my roadtrip and the interesting characters I have met along the way. Now the official count of kilometers driven was close to 4700 or so a bit less than 3000 miles roughly speaking--not bad, eh? Leaving the car at the Apex parking lot was harder then I expected...I mean this car was not only my transportation for these weeks, but many a nights I spent sleeping in it as well. So, yeah that's the confession part...up until a couple days ago Nancy and Steve were under the illusion that gertie was a campervan...campervan...nissan pulsar same difference.

Now, I can honestly say I have perfected the whole sleeping in the car system and not getting caught--seeing as how carcamping is illegal. One of my better experiences in deceiving the police was I parked my car in between two parked cars on the side of the road that had for sale signs in their windows...so I made my own sign put it in the window and had quite the lovely slumber minus the sound of traffic whizzing by and the occasional police siren in the distance causing momentary freakouts...but would I change the nights of freezing sleeplessness in the front seat with my legs wrapped around the stickshift in a makeshift fetal position...hell frickin' no--made my experience a little more off the beaten path. The one time I almost got caught which I have to admit was pretty stupid on my part....I slept in the parking lot at the visitor center in Wanaka...but mind you there were like 4 other campervans there so I thought it would be fine...wrong. At 5 in the morning I was awakened by a flashlight being shined through the passenger side window and someone yelling 'security, security open up!' The guy supposedly was being trailed by the police and was giving us a heads up to move our cars so we wouldn't get fined...I didn't get it either...nevertheless I moved my car and all was fine. I just felt in my own little way I was living on the edge...never knowing exactly where I was going to sleep for the night and wondering how I could possibly put on any more layers of clothing so that I had a fighting chance of not spending the whole night shivering. The last couple of weeks as the weather turned even colder I decided to spend the nights at holiday parks instead so I was atleast guarenteed a hot shower and hot meal every evening and finally I am staying in hostels. It's funny the more 'civilized' I have gotten throughout the course of my trip the less I have found I have enjoyed myself...it's been a hard transition to leave the world of matted hair and muddy boots for jeans and blow dryed hair...but it was bound to happen at some point or another. Although I still hold on to a bit of my ruggedness...the only shoes I have to wear at the moment are my hiking boots seeing as how my sneakers have fallen victim to the curse of the new balance...in other words the plastic lining in the heal has made its way through and left my ankle a bloody mess..and wearing flipflops in this weather would just be asking for frostbite...so dirt covered hiking boots it is...the one bonus of it all is they do add a good inch and a half to my height.
I have never been a huge fan of cities, I just have never really been able to see the appeal of them--lots of flashy lights, neon signs, the overwhelming and at times faint smell of urine in the air, littered streets and people...lots of people. But the last couple of days I have spent here in Christchurch, I'm starting to find my whole 'city perception' being shattered...okay minus the pee part. I love waking up in the morning not knowing exactly where I'm going and just getting lost in the city. Lost in that way where each street seems new and like a mystery that needs to be unraveled and each person on the street someone with a story, a history that lets my my wander. Finding cafes to make my own or walking in the botanical gardens and stopping to feed stale bread to the thousands of ducks or watch a group of older men live out their childhood dreams through handmade sail boat competitions. Or spending an afternoon sipping coffee in the main square in town, with the infamous (and yes mom in this case it works) wizard of cathedral square who preaches about god knows what and will speak his mind on any topic...to my left a lifesize chess set and a homless man playing a fellow traveler. Ahead of me the beautiful cathedral square, under construction at the moment, seagulls littered across the pavement like the trash they consume and all around me the day slowly quieting down, with the sound of a skateboard hitting against the maze of walkways...and school children all aflutter in matching kilts and navy sweaters dillydallying around with mischief on the mind and my latest book from a local used bookstore in hand.
Now with my ipod temporarily out of commission and no more gertie to rock out to billy joel and cat stevens I made a hefty purchase and invested in a $5 handheld radio. Now while standing on the street corner waiting for the pedestrian walk signal some people flipped open their cell phones and texted away...I extended the antennae from my radio. I just had to smile at myself thinking about how ridiculous I look in this day and age with a radio in hand with an antennae a good foot and a half extended and my walmartesque fleece...I have honestly gotten more stares since toting this radio...people just seem in awe that a real life radio still exists and that someone is actually using one.
Well, I hope all is well with everyone and happy father's day especially to you dad...sorry none of us kids could be there to celebrate with you...but I'll sit and watch some tv in your honor tonight!

Most tourists who visit New Zealand bypass the journey along the southern scenic route all together and head straight from queenstown to Dunedin. Since I had the time I decided to take the road less traveled and head to Dunedin via Invercargill and along the rugged Catlins Coast. The Catlins are well known for their untamed coastline and multiple opportunities to view local wildlife.
The week I drove along the coast was one of the windiest times I have ever experienced. With southwesterly winds up to 120km/hr for the first time in my travels it was not me driving my car, but rather mother nature. I felt my car constantly veering towards the left...now, the left would be a 200m drop into a raging ocean and jagged cliffs...all I could think was if only the car would veer right instead..I'm sure hitting oncoming traffic would be a lot less painful then those sharp rocks...morbid maybe, but hey we all have these thoughts some time or another.
I seemed to stop the car every 10 minutes to hike to some remote little waterfall or tramp my way through soggy mud and grass to wetlands or a beach. On one particular stop I made my way to a beach called jemstone beach. The name came as no surprise as the pebbled beach seemed to shimmer in jade, ruby reds, emerald greens, cobalt blues. Never much of a seashell collector I decided to collect rocks--exciting I know...but they were just too beautiful to walk past. As I collected these rocks stuffing them into my 'cough' poncho 'cough' all I could think of was what a hypocrite I was. A few years before I had spent my summer working at zion national park telling the kids countless times that you should not take rocks because if every person who visited zion national park took one rock before you knew it it would no longer be zion national park...but rather zion national flatlands and who would want to visit there? (this would be the moment when the 6 year olds would burst out into giggles...so feel free to...) anyways at that moment, I said fuck it...I'm sure half those kids will end up in gangs or in jail anyways....so I loaded up...I can't lie the thought did run through my head that these authentic new zealand rocks would make great gifts to give back home...okay that might make me seem a little cheap...but honestly how many people can say they have a real live rock from new zealand...exactly. That was until the other day I was shuffling through my stuff and discovered that my prized rubies and emeralds now just looked black and dirty...apparently the way the water and sun was hitting the rocks that day made them look special...but alas they were just your run of the mill rocks...but no worries each of you is still getting one of them as a souvenier!
So, my experience in the catlins was kind of like a mini high school reunion. I was constantly running into fellow travelers that I had seen during earlier days in my travels...so here I went from traveling down the west coast where I could easily travel 200km and not see a single soul to running into the same people city after city. There was the lovely french couple that was too stereotypical for words...they were the most over affectionate overly food obsessed people I have ever met. There was simon and sara the british couple who I played a rousing game of scrabble with and ended up representing for America...then there were the two identical twin red headed sisters well nothing too exciting to note about them...but they did have red hair...Lewis family pride what what? Lastly there was the German...for a period of three days every single random stop I made along the way he was there...so we got to talking inside the hyde...(which is a little wooden hut you sit in while watching penguins make their way up from the water to the shore) and I learned he just like myself was doing the whole solo traveling thing by car...now back to the penguins...the penguins alone made my travel down the coast more than worth it....within a span of an hour 5/6 penguins slowly made their way to shore...floating along in the water, waddling up the shore, hopping up the dirt path and finally out of sight...and further down the shore were sea lions and seals...not a bad way to spend a rainy afternoon.
Then there was Zabita who I met in a deserted holiday park...now Zabita had one of those uncomofrtably short haircuts that left you guessing for the first hour whether or not Zabita was infact a boy or girl...that and the fact that she was of the British persuasion where not one word out of her mouth sounded remotely like english. It was so freezing that night that we ended up having a contest to see how many layers we each could wear...I had 22 shirts on top and a jacket, 8 pairs of pants on the bottom and 13 pairs of socks....I was toasty...speaking of toasty....burnt...there was the matter of my craptowel that just wouldn't dry so I had the 'genius' idea to get out a frying pan place my towel in it...you can see where this is heading...so yes I set the craptowel on fire...so now everytime I shower I am left with little pieces of burnt towel all over me...