After a pretty chilled couple of weeks spent relaxing and catching up with family, we are now ready to head out again. We are lucky enough to have been lent a car (4WD woo!) and some other supplies (including a nice warm coat) and we've loaded up with the essentials for the next month. South Island here we come!
Once again, our planning process has been pretty appalling, but we tend to do better on the fly anyway. We get on much better when we're not stressing about getting to places on time. We've outlined about a months worth of driving, and hopefully our budget will hold until then... I'm thinking that noodles will be a big part of our diet for the next 33 days.
But holy shit, we're in New Zealand! And there's a tonne of stuff to see! Excited!
Monday, 28 April 2014
Wednesday, 23 April 2014
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changeeees
I've never been a fan of Autumn. As a child born in South Africa and raised in England I decided that my natural birth right was to live in a place that is always hot, despite being fully British and incredibly white.
Australia did not seem to have an Autumn, and even in places where it sort of did (South) we missed it. We first hit Adelaide when it was cold (July, UGH), and just decided to immediately drive 5000km away to where it was warm, and that sort of weather followed us for the entire 8 months we spent in the country. Not staying in one place for very long meant that we didn't really sense a change in the seasons apart from when we were in Melbourne and it went from unbearably hot (42) to just hot (35), and then to our shock we had to start wearing long sleeves. In the far north there is a wet season, that we mercifully missed, and we also managed to miss cyclone season.
As a Brit, this kind of climate is most noticeable when you talk about the weather, which of course is our national past time. In the UK, talking about the weather is a huge deal, and it can go from a simple meteorological observation to a full on metaphor for your entire miserable existence. A chat about weather is the default setting for any British person in any social situation. You may be the most awkward human in existence, but if you are truly British you can have an entire conversation about the weather (and also drink tea or at least pretend to like it.) Australia does not do this. A weather conversation here (depending on the season) generally goes along the lines of "Hot enough for ya, Pom?" or "There's a cyclone coming. Bring it on, c***s!"
New Zealand, on the other hand, does have autumn, and a glorious one at that. It made me remember that this is actually a pretty nice time of year (when its not raining) and the smells of wet grass, rotting vegetation and wood fires were actually something I had missed. Its also made me realise that I am woefully underprepared to dress warmly, as most of the clothes I now own are the bogan uniform of shorts, singlets and thongs (that's flip flops to you, poms). We've had to resupply our wardrobe courtesy of some charity shops so I've not got some mighty fine old man jumpers and a nice fleecy hat that only looks a little bit stupid. Can't wait for winter.
Australia did not seem to have an Autumn, and even in places where it sort of did (South) we missed it. We first hit Adelaide when it was cold (July, UGH), and just decided to immediately drive 5000km away to where it was warm, and that sort of weather followed us for the entire 8 months we spent in the country. Not staying in one place for very long meant that we didn't really sense a change in the seasons apart from when we were in Melbourne and it went from unbearably hot (42) to just hot (35), and then to our shock we had to start wearing long sleeves. In the far north there is a wet season, that we mercifully missed, and we also managed to miss cyclone season.
As a Brit, this kind of climate is most noticeable when you talk about the weather, which of course is our national past time. In the UK, talking about the weather is a huge deal, and it can go from a simple meteorological observation to a full on metaphor for your entire miserable existence. A chat about weather is the default setting for any British person in any social situation. You may be the most awkward human in existence, but if you are truly British you can have an entire conversation about the weather (and also drink tea or at least pretend to like it.) Australia does not do this. A weather conversation here (depending on the season) generally goes along the lines of "Hot enough for ya, Pom?" or "There's a cyclone coming. Bring it on, c***s!"
New Zealand, on the other hand, does have autumn, and a glorious one at that. It made me remember that this is actually a pretty nice time of year (when its not raining) and the smells of wet grass, rotting vegetation and wood fires were actually something I had missed. Its also made me realise that I am woefully underprepared to dress warmly, as most of the clothes I now own are the bogan uniform of shorts, singlets and thongs (that's flip flops to you, poms). We've had to resupply our wardrobe courtesy of some charity shops so I've not got some mighty fine old man jumpers and a nice fleecy hat that only looks a little bit stupid. Can't wait for winter.
Wednesday, 16 April 2014
Full circle
Back in the UK, for a little while I used to live in a super cool bungalow in a small village called Martlesham Heath. Previous occupants of that house included my brother, my aunt, my parents and my grandparents. It was a house that was well utilised by my whole family (in fact it is now the home of my other brother and his family. I hope they are enjoying my lime green kitchen paint job). I only lived there for about 5 years, but have been going there my whole life to visit the various occupants, so essentially it was another house in which I grew up. It even still has a wooden board nailed to the wall where me and my cousins marked our heights every time we were over there (for the record, I'm pretty sure my mother is shrinking).
I've always cherished the memories I have from those times we went there, as its where I learned to ride a bike (that in itself was hilarious. My brother managed to hit nearly every tree on the green. All 6 of them) and spend countless hours riding around the green and in the small birch wood next to it. We would go there with our bikes all the time, and when my grandparents or my aunt Sally (who all usually lived in Zimbabwe) were staying there, they would walk out with us and watch as my brothers and I cycled up and down the small hills feeling like daredevils and showing off. Of course, when I went back years later I realised either the hills and jumps were far, far smaller than I remember or some health and safety people went through and filled them all in. I'm pretty sure it was the latter.
So now I find myself in New Zealand, staying with my aunt Sally, hiring a bike and pedalling up and down the mountain bike tracks. I feel like a child again, and it reminded me of those days again so damn much. I could almost see my Gran standing there, watching us like a hawk while Grandpa stood next to her, with his hands behind his back and probably holding on to a plastic bag which he would use to collect any rubbish he found on the way to keep the place tidy. He died a couple of years ago, but those memories are how I will always see him, and every time I get on a mountain bike and cycle around the woods it feels like he's still there, watching us, and picking us up when we fell.
Unfortunately my grandfathers benevolent gaze from heaven failed to stop me from making the ultimate schoolboy error of looking behind me while I crossed a cattle grid bridge so of course I still fell off in an impressive display of slow motion inevitable doom. My front wheel went left, back wheel went right, legs went down and face went perilously close to the handrail.
Don't worry Mum, I'm FINE.
I've always cherished the memories I have from those times we went there, as its where I learned to ride a bike (that in itself was hilarious. My brother managed to hit nearly every tree on the green. All 6 of them) and spend countless hours riding around the green and in the small birch wood next to it. We would go there with our bikes all the time, and when my grandparents or my aunt Sally (who all usually lived in Zimbabwe) were staying there, they would walk out with us and watch as my brothers and I cycled up and down the small hills feeling like daredevils and showing off. Of course, when I went back years later I realised either the hills and jumps were far, far smaller than I remember or some health and safety people went through and filled them all in. I'm pretty sure it was the latter.
So now I find myself in New Zealand, staying with my aunt Sally, hiring a bike and pedalling up and down the mountain bike tracks. I feel like a child again, and it reminded me of those days again so damn much. I could almost see my Gran standing there, watching us like a hawk while Grandpa stood next to her, with his hands behind his back and probably holding on to a plastic bag which he would use to collect any rubbish he found on the way to keep the place tidy. He died a couple of years ago, but those memories are how I will always see him, and every time I get on a mountain bike and cycle around the woods it feels like he's still there, watching us, and picking us up when we fell.
Unfortunately my grandfathers benevolent gaze from heaven failed to stop me from making the ultimate schoolboy error of looking behind me while I crossed a cattle grid bridge so of course I still fell off in an impressive display of slow motion inevitable doom. My front wheel went left, back wheel went right, legs went down and face went perilously close to the handrail.
Don't worry Mum, I'm FINE.
Tuesday, 8 April 2014
OH GOD AUSTRALIA ILL MISS YOU
Our time in Australia is coming to a rapid close! God its gone quickly. My lack of posts recently has been due to moving from living in a garden with shockingly good wifi to another friends house in down the road in an actual bed (my body doesn't even know what do with this) where there is no internet as they have just moved house. Also, we have been frantically trying to gather ourselves for the next stage in the adventure, so we sold the van (to the French, ugh) booked flight tickets, packed our stuff up, got rid of a load of stuff, quit my excellent cycle delivery job, tried to sort out bank accounts, got a working holiday visa and all that shit.
I am the worst at organisation - don't let my CV fool you - so its been a bit of a stressful time. I still need to figure out how to blag my way into NZ without a plane ticket home booked yet but I'm banking on my winning personality and persuasion skills gained from the door to door sales job to get me through. What could possibly go wrong?
So what I'm currently doing right now in Coburg Library is applying for jobs in NZ for during the ski season. I had the sudden urge to be a ski lift operator and I will not rest until my newly discovered ambition has been realised. So its cover letter and resume polishing time, inbetween the blogging, flight check-in, bus booking and, of course, facebooking.
I have been doing a bit of reflecting on the last 9 months of my life. Its been a wild ride, and while a lot of it was exactly as I expected it would be (lots of driving, long roads, beautiful scenery, arsehole french backpackers), a lot of things have really surprised me and things happened that I never would have anticipated. First and foremostly, some the people we have met from this country have been absolute fucking legends, right from the start. The people we've stayed with and who've opened their homes to us (sometimes before they even met us) hold a super special place in my heart, and I would love to give every single one of them a hug and a kiss with tongues. Hopefully this will happen when some of them come see us in Europe... Elysia and Tamiya, JP and Kiara, Perri and her awesome mum, The Hillbilly Goats, The boys in the Rocktagon (Sam, Jordan, Benny and Dan), and theres a load more people that just opened their doors to us and gave us beer, and who were generally lovely.
We've also made a few mental backpacker friends (less of these, as we spent most of our travelling time in a van by ourselves like a couple of loners), most of which I would run upto in the street and kiss on the face (Richard, Austin and the Lakeland Massive, Kristin and the Fraiser Island Massive (not including sweden), Danny and Chrissy, the door knockers Grace/Lenny/Joe/Beth/Travis/Tarzan), and some I would also slap on the face for good measure (Courtney ;) ).
And of course, the Australians - there are too many new friends to list here, but this country is full of some real quality people, and I had no idea I'd meet so many genuinely kind, genuinely awesome people while I was here. I hope they stay friends with me on facebook, because I will stalk them till the end of days.
Of course, having said that, there are some real arseholes here too. But to be fair, you get them in Europe too. (Bonjour!)
I think one of the best things that has come out of this whole experience is me gaining a bit of confidence in myself. Its taken a bit of time (my learning curve is less steep than most) but I have more faith in myself to achieve what I want to do with my life, and even if I don't quite have the target in sight yet, I know I'll get there in the end.
So onward and upward... New Zealand here we come.
I am the worst at organisation - don't let my CV fool you - so its been a bit of a stressful time. I still need to figure out how to blag my way into NZ without a plane ticket home booked yet but I'm banking on my winning personality and persuasion skills gained from the door to door sales job to get me through. What could possibly go wrong?
So what I'm currently doing right now in Coburg Library is applying for jobs in NZ for during the ski season. I had the sudden urge to be a ski lift operator and I will not rest until my newly discovered ambition has been realised. So its cover letter and resume polishing time, inbetween the blogging, flight check-in, bus booking and, of course, facebooking.
I have been doing a bit of reflecting on the last 9 months of my life. Its been a wild ride, and while a lot of it was exactly as I expected it would be (lots of driving, long roads, beautiful scenery, arsehole french backpackers), a lot of things have really surprised me and things happened that I never would have anticipated. First and foremostly, some the people we have met from this country have been absolute fucking legends, right from the start. The people we've stayed with and who've opened their homes to us (sometimes before they even met us) hold a super special place in my heart, and I would love to give every single one of them a hug and a kiss with tongues. Hopefully this will happen when some of them come see us in Europe... Elysia and Tamiya, JP and Kiara, Perri and her awesome mum, The Hillbilly Goats, The boys in the Rocktagon (Sam, Jordan, Benny and Dan), and theres a load more people that just opened their doors to us and gave us beer, and who were generally lovely.
We've also made a few mental backpacker friends (less of these, as we spent most of our travelling time in a van by ourselves like a couple of loners), most of which I would run upto in the street and kiss on the face (Richard, Austin and the Lakeland Massive, Kristin and the Fraiser Island Massive (not including sweden), Danny and Chrissy, the door knockers Grace/Lenny/Joe/Beth/Travis/Tarzan), and some I would also slap on the face for good measure (Courtney ;) ).
And of course, the Australians - there are too many new friends to list here, but this country is full of some real quality people, and I had no idea I'd meet so many genuinely kind, genuinely awesome people while I was here. I hope they stay friends with me on facebook, because I will stalk them till the end of days.
Of course, having said that, there are some real arseholes here too. But to be fair, you get them in Europe too. (Bonjour!)
I think one of the best things that has come out of this whole experience is me gaining a bit of confidence in myself. Its taken a bit of time (my learning curve is less steep than most) but I have more faith in myself to achieve what I want to do with my life, and even if I don't quite have the target in sight yet, I know I'll get there in the end.
So onward and upward... New Zealand here we come.
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