Jordan wanted to see some friends before we settle down to work and she finds a good deal on flights so she decides to head to Aus for a quick trip. I opt to stay in New Zealand and sight see (I'm coming for you eventually Aus, but I want a solid month to explore.) We return to Christchurch for her flight. It's been a couple days since our last showers so we meander through town in search of a backpackers hostel we can sneak into. Sadly, because of the earthquake, accommodation options are minimal. As we look around the city, all of Christchurch's young citizens are out and about. It is, after all, a Saturday night. Now I have no problem with being unshowered, unkempt, and generally unattractive, but at that moment I felt like the lowest type of low class. Keep in mind, we just came from Tofino where there is one bar (that's more of a pub) and it's totally acceptable to attend in gumboots and plaid. In Christchurch, EVERYONE is dressed like they belong in a magazine. The girls are wearing glamorous cocktail dresses and high heels, the guys are in dress shirts and trousers and smell of expensive cologne, even the doormen are wearing suits! And here are Jordan and I, in our ripped jackets and toques, unshowered and seeking motel pools in hopes we can sneak into their shower rooms. Needless to say, we receive some looks and never do find those showers.
We drive to the airport and park on a side street to sleep as Jordan has to be up at 4 am to head to her terminal. I drive her to departures and give her a huge huge and return to my spot to catch a couple more hours of sleep. In the morning I walk down the street to McDonalds to use their bathroom and help myself to their wifi and hey, I may as well treat myself to a McD's breakfast! It's been forever.
"Hi, I'll have an Egg McMuffin meal with a coffee."
The girl behind the counter looks perplexed even though this location has its own barista counters with high grade espresso machines and every flavour shot imaginable and this is why:
In New Zealand there is no such thing as drip coffee.
People are fond of instant coffee, (it's actually not bad) there is the occasional coffee plunger, you can get espresso, cappuccinos, lattes, whatever! But just a "coffee" is hard to come by. I read her reaction and immediately correct myself, "Just an Americano."
"I don't think we can do that..."
LIES! I know they can.
"Okay, just an espresso then."
"So... like a short white? A macchiato?" (even though I can clearly see the word 'espresso' on the order board.)
"I just don't want cream or milk in my coffee!" I cry, exasperated (it's early and I am without caffeine.) I shouldn't have such high expectations of McDonalds and this 15 year old girl is obviously new and not privy to the world of coffee options, but it shouldn't be this hard!
"Well... I can get them to make it without milk."
"Yes. Please. That would be great, thank you," I say, relieved.
She spends about 7 minutes voiding my order and re-ringing it through. I'm pretty sure she overcharges me. My coffee arrives and it's full of milk. I drink it anyway.
I get a text from Aileen's daughter, Vanessa, offering to take me site seeing. I google map her address and screenshot the directions and take a deep breath.
Travelling alone doesn't bother me at all, I feel comfortable driving the van and navigating the highways. I feel safe in this country and safer now that I have an itinerary of campsites, but driving through Christchurch scares the bejesus out of me! It's already a huge, spread out city with lots of 1 way streets and traffic, but since the earthquake roads are completely closed, detours are in place and bridges are deemed unstable, not to mention there are huge potholes and ongoing construction. I know Vanessa's street is off Columbo, I know where Columbo is. What I don't anticipate is that my chosen route will not be available for access and that I'll get completely turned around due to detours. I do find my way there in once piece just as Lucinda phones to ask if I've gotten lost.
The girls take me up Deyer's Pass looking down onto Governor's Bay. We can see Lyttelton, Quail Island, all of Christchurch. It's unreal. Lucinda has a lunch to attend, but Vanessa, Neo and even baby Arlo take me out to the container mall (a really cool makeshift mall that has sprung up entirely of containers) as well as the square and some other sites. We stop at the great and historical cathedral, once a grandiose and beloved landmark which now lies half fallen and surrounded by fencing and scaffolds. It's humbling. Vanessa tells me they may not be able to repair it. I imagine what a beautiful city it must have been before all the devastation.
Back at her house we're joined by Lou, Hoff, and Aileen. We order takeout for dinner. I'm so in love with the fact that you can get burgers, fish and chips AND Chinese food at any given take-away restaurant.
Aileen and Ollie offer me their spare room again AND invite me for Christmas.
I don't know how I got so lucky to have this wonderful family in my life, but I am ever grateful for their warmth and hospitality.
And on that note, my solo adventure begins!
Friday, 26 December 2014
Saturday, 20 December 2014
Abel Tasman? And back again...
We drive through Mouteka and up towards Abel Tasman. Because we dilly-dallyed a bit leaving Nelson it's getting late in the day, but we figure we must be getting close as we follow the signs that read: "Abel Tasman National Park."
I am truly excited because everyone I've met has raved about this coast. We ascend a steep windy hill into lush jungle fauna. We stop at some caves but discover they can only be viewed through a tour, the last tour is just about to leave and costs $15 a person. Yes, we are that frugal and don't want to commit to an hour tour with forty Asian tourists all over the age of 60.
We make another discovery at this pit stop: our trunk will NOT open and therefore we can't really access our cooking utensils, food and other life necessities. We trudge on a little less excited.
We see a sign: ABEL TASMAN NATIONAL PARK and follow the arrow down a dirt road. We follow said road deeper and deeper into the woods. The road meanders along steep cliffs and barely allows room for two cars to pass each other. Jordan drives 10 km/h and we still kick up heaps of dust, plus we are starting to run low on gas. Where are the sparkling seas? Where are the penguins? What the hell is this place? I'm disappointed and embarrassed that I dragged Jordan to this treacherous place.
We reach a grassy area and a sign decrees: "FREEDOM CAMPING: $5 A PERSON"
We pull towards the information area to get some answers. We are obviously in the wrong place (or Lonely Planet is a goddamn liar) and we are slightly creeped out by this utterly secluded place void of any other campers so we opt to head elsewhere. But first: to try and sort out the trunk. Jordan pulls wildly on the handle, I go inside and push, we try to pry it with a stick: nothing.
There are a couple guys doing some sort of construction nearby and one comes over and asks if we're alright. We explain our trunk situation.
"Sometimes the dust gets into the central locking system and jams it up," he explains, "I could grab my tools and have a look if you'd like."
His name is James and he has a beautiful shy puppy named Jade. He pops off the back panel and gets to looking at the lock. He tells us he is helping to build stages for the upcoming Luminate Festival: 8 days celebrating the power of women and consisting of meditation workshops and drum circles. It sounds heavenly. He discovers the problem: there's a broken bit in the handle which will need to be replaced. In the meantime, he shows us how to open the trunk from inside. He is one of the sweetest, most genuine people I've ever met, but then again, all the Kiwis I've met have been the same way. We start back towards the road.
On the way back down we nearly die twice as crazy tourists in vans coming flying blindly around corners. One woman in a camper panics when she sees us, slams on her brakes and starts backing awkwardly into the mountain where her vehicle promptly gets stuck. Jordan and I sigh and get out to help her boyfriend push it out. We feel we've paid our good deed forward. We stop at a hotel bar to use their wifi and have a cider (our necessary purchase.) We sit in their 'beer gardens' (read: a gravel pit with picnic tables) and try to research other camping options but nothing is nearby and the iSite is closed. We go to the iSite parking lot anyway and cook dinner there. When we first arrive there are several other vans, but gradually, one by one, they disappear until its only us and a van with a German couple.
"Excuse me, do you know if we can camp here?" they ask.
"Probably not, I'm not sure though."
"The nearest camping site is 40 minutes away and we want to be here for the morning. Where are you guys going to sleep?"
"I guess on a random side street," I tell them, "it's worked of us so far."
They look terrified by the idea. They watch us suspiciously as we drive away. We find a quiet street and park across from a huge field, but on the way we've encountered a new problem in the ways of a terribly loud rattle occurring in our undercarriage. We begin to fret that the van is damaged from our rocky road escapades. We summate that its no problem that can't be dealt with another day and fall into a restless sleep.
In the morning its pouring rain. We drive back to the iSite and sit under the protection of our trunk while sipping coffee and waiting for them to open.
At 9 am we get directions to the ACTUAL Tasman Abel Coast (an easily missed street, I truly hope that I'm not the only tourist to have made this mistake.) Even though it's pouring rain we want to see it so we take the scenic route throughout Kaiteri. The rattling had stopped (we assume it was a large rock that got caught up there and managed to release itself.)
It's still raining and we are without proper waterproof footwear but want to see some of the coast (the entire trek is 3 to 5 days) so we decide to do it barefoot.
Now let me just start by saying that this summer in Tofino it was not at all uncommon to see people walking through the woods barefoot. In fact, it's a great way to avoid ruining your shoes with the unavoidable mud. Also, since I've arrived in New Zealand I've notice people walking barefoot down city street and in grocery stores so I didn't think it would be a big deal. That was not the case at Abel Tasman Park. Other hikers, decked out in expensive gear, leered, scoffed and made snide comments. An older woman actually scolded me.
I don't see what the big deal is, it was so warm out and it was a relatively flat walking path and we didn't go that far. Granted the entire "tramp" ended up being close to 4 hours and our feet were slightly tender after, but no worst for wear.
We start back down the coast as we're running short on time before Jordan flies out of Christchurch to Aus. We drive back through Nelson and towards Picton in search of the "Campbell Memorial Reserve" touted as a free camping site off the highway.
We pull into a street with a huge banner that reads: "FREE OVERNIGHT CAMPING." We drive down a driveway containing some weird townhouse-like cottages and stop at the 'office' for information. The office is, in fact, someones apartment and on the sliding door there is a tiny post-it note that faintly reads: Just come in, I won't hear you knock. Lynne.
I hastily enter the home and find myself smack dab in the middle of their kitchen.
"Hello?" I call. No response.
"Hello?!" I shout, a little louder as I begin backing towards the door.
'Lynne' appears.
"Sorry to bother you," I say, "But do you know where the Campbell Memorial Reserve is?"
"I have no idea. Are you looking for overnight camping?"
I nod.
"Well you're in the right place! Just keep going around the corner."
"Down this driveway?" I ask suspiciously.
"Yup! And right on the corner, and bundle up hunny, it's going to be a cold one."
I climb back in the van. Jordan looks at me, puzzled as to why I just walked into someones house without knocking.
"Apparently we can park down here," I tell her.
We drive a bit further.
"You mean this gravel pit with a wire fence and broken school bus?"
"Umm.. let's stay right, maybe she mean another corner."
We end up down a super narrow road that leads us to: a dead end, with no space to turn around. We barely get the van out and flee the creepy village.
We locate the "free campsite." I use the word "campsite" loosely as it is a gravel pit on the side of a highway. It is packed with vans and has a single bathroom with undrinkable tap water. But it's free! And it's convenient!
We go back into Picton, since we are so close and after all, it deserves a second chance right? There, we each pay $5 to use the shower. I wanna make my $5 count so I take an hour long shower. I bask in the scalding hot water, I wash my hair, TWICE, words cannot express the joy I felt in that moment during my first "real" shower in over a week!
We explore a bit more and walk out to the spit. It seems promising but the Harbour Views are mediocre at best. Sorry to harp on you Picton, but I'm not won.
We stop back near Kaikoura at the Okiwa Bay Reserve. It's an INCREDIBLE free campsite that is surrounded by trees and grass! Real live grass! It overlooks the ocean. We are excited because we want to hike to the waterfall and see the baby seal colony that Garrett has told us about. We drink a bunch of wine and treat ourselves to hot dogs to celebrate our pre-Christmas together before we part ways for 2 weeks. When I wake up it's POURING rain, I'm talking buckets, and all the other campers have left. It's also 1:00 in the afternoon. We decide the baby seals will have to wait for another day (BOO!)
It's back to Christchurch we go...
I am truly excited because everyone I've met has raved about this coast. We ascend a steep windy hill into lush jungle fauna. We stop at some caves but discover they can only be viewed through a tour, the last tour is just about to leave and costs $15 a person. Yes, we are that frugal and don't want to commit to an hour tour with forty Asian tourists all over the age of 60.
We make another discovery at this pit stop: our trunk will NOT open and therefore we can't really access our cooking utensils, food and other life necessities. We trudge on a little less excited.
We see a sign: ABEL TASMAN NATIONAL PARK and follow the arrow down a dirt road. We follow said road deeper and deeper into the woods. The road meanders along steep cliffs and barely allows room for two cars to pass each other. Jordan drives 10 km/h and we still kick up heaps of dust, plus we are starting to run low on gas. Where are the sparkling seas? Where are the penguins? What the hell is this place? I'm disappointed and embarrassed that I dragged Jordan to this treacherous place.
We reach a grassy area and a sign decrees: "FREEDOM CAMPING: $5 A PERSON"
We pull towards the information area to get some answers. We are obviously in the wrong place (or Lonely Planet is a goddamn liar) and we are slightly creeped out by this utterly secluded place void of any other campers so we opt to head elsewhere. But first: to try and sort out the trunk. Jordan pulls wildly on the handle, I go inside and push, we try to pry it with a stick: nothing.
There are a couple guys doing some sort of construction nearby and one comes over and asks if we're alright. We explain our trunk situation.
"Sometimes the dust gets into the central locking system and jams it up," he explains, "I could grab my tools and have a look if you'd like."
His name is James and he has a beautiful shy puppy named Jade. He pops off the back panel and gets to looking at the lock. He tells us he is helping to build stages for the upcoming Luminate Festival: 8 days celebrating the power of women and consisting of meditation workshops and drum circles. It sounds heavenly. He discovers the problem: there's a broken bit in the handle which will need to be replaced. In the meantime, he shows us how to open the trunk from inside. He is one of the sweetest, most genuine people I've ever met, but then again, all the Kiwis I've met have been the same way. We start back towards the road.
On the way back down we nearly die twice as crazy tourists in vans coming flying blindly around corners. One woman in a camper panics when she sees us, slams on her brakes and starts backing awkwardly into the mountain where her vehicle promptly gets stuck. Jordan and I sigh and get out to help her boyfriend push it out. We feel we've paid our good deed forward. We stop at a hotel bar to use their wifi and have a cider (our necessary purchase.) We sit in their 'beer gardens' (read: a gravel pit with picnic tables) and try to research other camping options but nothing is nearby and the iSite is closed. We go to the iSite parking lot anyway and cook dinner there. When we first arrive there are several other vans, but gradually, one by one, they disappear until its only us and a van with a German couple.
"Excuse me, do you know if we can camp here?" they ask.
"Probably not, I'm not sure though."
"The nearest camping site is 40 minutes away and we want to be here for the morning. Where are you guys going to sleep?"
"I guess on a random side street," I tell them, "it's worked of us so far."
They look terrified by the idea. They watch us suspiciously as we drive away. We find a quiet street and park across from a huge field, but on the way we've encountered a new problem in the ways of a terribly loud rattle occurring in our undercarriage. We begin to fret that the van is damaged from our rocky road escapades. We summate that its no problem that can't be dealt with another day and fall into a restless sleep.
In the morning its pouring rain. We drive back to the iSite and sit under the protection of our trunk while sipping coffee and waiting for them to open.
At 9 am we get directions to the ACTUAL Tasman Abel Coast (an easily missed street, I truly hope that I'm not the only tourist to have made this mistake.) Even though it's pouring rain we want to see it so we take the scenic route throughout Kaiteri. The rattling had stopped (we assume it was a large rock that got caught up there and managed to release itself.)
It's still raining and we are without proper waterproof footwear but want to see some of the coast (the entire trek is 3 to 5 days) so we decide to do it barefoot.
Now let me just start by saying that this summer in Tofino it was not at all uncommon to see people walking through the woods barefoot. In fact, it's a great way to avoid ruining your shoes with the unavoidable mud. Also, since I've arrived in New Zealand I've notice people walking barefoot down city street and in grocery stores so I didn't think it would be a big deal. That was not the case at Abel Tasman Park. Other hikers, decked out in expensive gear, leered, scoffed and made snide comments. An older woman actually scolded me.
I don't see what the big deal is, it was so warm out and it was a relatively flat walking path and we didn't go that far. Granted the entire "tramp" ended up being close to 4 hours and our feet were slightly tender after, but no worst for wear.
It was too rainy to bring my camera so you get a stock photo. Deal with it.
We pull into a street with a huge banner that reads: "FREE OVERNIGHT CAMPING." We drive down a driveway containing some weird townhouse-like cottages and stop at the 'office' for information. The office is, in fact, someones apartment and on the sliding door there is a tiny post-it note that faintly reads: Just come in, I won't hear you knock. Lynne.
I hastily enter the home and find myself smack dab in the middle of their kitchen.
"Hello?" I call. No response.
"Hello?!" I shout, a little louder as I begin backing towards the door.
'Lynne' appears.
"Sorry to bother you," I say, "But do you know where the Campbell Memorial Reserve is?"
"I have no idea. Are you looking for overnight camping?"
I nod.
"Well you're in the right place! Just keep going around the corner."
"Down this driveway?" I ask suspiciously.
"Yup! And right on the corner, and bundle up hunny, it's going to be a cold one."
I climb back in the van. Jordan looks at me, puzzled as to why I just walked into someones house without knocking.
"Apparently we can park down here," I tell her.
We drive a bit further.
"You mean this gravel pit with a wire fence and broken school bus?"
"Umm.. let's stay right, maybe she mean another corner."
We end up down a super narrow road that leads us to: a dead end, with no space to turn around. We barely get the van out and flee the creepy village.
We locate the "free campsite." I use the word "campsite" loosely as it is a gravel pit on the side of a highway. It is packed with vans and has a single bathroom with undrinkable tap water. But it's free! And it's convenient!
We go back into Picton, since we are so close and after all, it deserves a second chance right? There, we each pay $5 to use the shower. I wanna make my $5 count so I take an hour long shower. I bask in the scalding hot water, I wash my hair, TWICE, words cannot express the joy I felt in that moment during my first "real" shower in over a week!
We explore a bit more and walk out to the spit. It seems promising but the Harbour Views are mediocre at best. Sorry to harp on you Picton, but I'm not won.
We stop back near Kaikoura at the Okiwa Bay Reserve. It's an INCREDIBLE free campsite that is surrounded by trees and grass! Real live grass! It overlooks the ocean. We are excited because we want to hike to the waterfall and see the baby seal colony that Garrett has told us about. We drink a bunch of wine and treat ourselves to hot dogs to celebrate our pre-Christmas together before we part ways for 2 weeks. When I wake up it's POURING rain, I'm talking buckets, and all the other campers have left. It's also 1:00 in the afternoon. We decide the baby seals will have to wait for another day (BOO!)
It's back to Christchurch we go...
Tuesday, 16 December 2014
Picton and Nelson
We leave Marfels Beach and head towards Picton. All along highway 1 every sign states: Piction, Picton, Picton! We have huge expectations for this infamous town.
When we do arrive, we're highly disappointed. The city centre is a measly two blocks. The harbour is nice but compared to what we've seen it's underwhelming. I guess the whole draw to Picton is that the inter island ferry travels from its port to Wellington.
We go to a used bookstore and the owner ushers us all out at 5:00 on the dot (after multiple warnings that he is closing soon.) Whatever. His assortment of 80's self-help books average at $12 a piece.
We walk past the museum: it's the size of a trailer, it costs $7 for entry and anyway, it's already closed.
We walk to the laundrette. The owner tells us its at least $10 to do one small load of laundry. The sky is overcast and adds to the overall gloominess of the town and makes us not want to walk to harbour. Needless to say we hightail it out of Picton and stay on the outskirts of town.
We have better luck in Nelson. We're greeted by beautiful beaches and gardens. The sky is grey but the weather is warm and balmy. We even arrive at the perfect time to enjoy the Christmas Parade (it is actually pretty impressive.) We check out different shops and go for coffee. We meander through the Queen's Garden (it's extraordinary! Hands down the nicest garden I've ever seen, anywhere!) We go to the library and work on our resumes and do a bunch of other grown-up crap.
At this point in our trip we have come to the realization that "freedom camping" isn't just some hippy free-for-all without rules and restrictions (illegal camping can lead to huge bylaw fines, we are truly lucky we made it this far unscathed) so we go to the local iSite. The nice lady gives us a map and says: "You can camp anywhere in these yellow ares as long as you're 50 meters near a public bathroom." We pick a sport near the marina and Tahunanui Beach. Actually finding the area is an epic pain in the ass and when we do we discover its totally industrial. We eat some dinner and walk down the boardwalk. We decide to treat ourselves to a movie night and since I just finished Gone Girl and Jordan has read it as well, we think it's fitting.
We go to a quaint theatre in town. The guy behind the counter is flabbergasted when Jordan asks for a "pop".
"Pardon?"
"Er... soda?"
"I don't know what you're saying."
"Like... Coca Cola."
"Oh... Oh! You mean a drink..."
I guess? (I've now learned that 'fizzy drink' is the accepted terminology.)
The theatre has about 10 seats, its an intimate experience and we strike up a conversation with a Swiss guy about whether or not the movie will compare to the book (it did, David Fincher killed it!)
We pass out in a parking lot at the marina.
We continue to do "adult" things the next day (run errands, grocery shop, go to the pharmacy, etc, etc) and lo and behold, what do we see cruising down Halifax Street? None other than the Kiwi-Mobile itself! It's here in Nelson and being driven by two absolute babes! I wave and then realize they have NO idea why I'm waving, hence the weird looks. I hope to run into them as I'm curious to how much they paid (and I have great segway to strike up a conversation with two travelling hunks.)
We make dinner at Tahunanui Beach (quickly becoming our favourite spot) and walk the bustling beach in the falling darkness.
In the morning we enjoy coffee from our fabulous new French Press (or, the less enchanting New Zealand name: Coffee Plunger) and sit it at the beach before we head to Abel Tasman at the head of the South Island.
When we do arrive, we're highly disappointed. The city centre is a measly two blocks. The harbour is nice but compared to what we've seen it's underwhelming. I guess the whole draw to Picton is that the inter island ferry travels from its port to Wellington.
We go to a used bookstore and the owner ushers us all out at 5:00 on the dot (after multiple warnings that he is closing soon.) Whatever. His assortment of 80's self-help books average at $12 a piece.
We walk past the museum: it's the size of a trailer, it costs $7 for entry and anyway, it's already closed.
We walk to the laundrette. The owner tells us its at least $10 to do one small load of laundry. The sky is overcast and adds to the overall gloominess of the town and makes us not want to walk to harbour. Needless to say we hightail it out of Picton and stay on the outskirts of town.
We have better luck in Nelson. We're greeted by beautiful beaches and gardens. The sky is grey but the weather is warm and balmy. We even arrive at the perfect time to enjoy the Christmas Parade (it is actually pretty impressive.) We check out different shops and go for coffee. We meander through the Queen's Garden (it's extraordinary! Hands down the nicest garden I've ever seen, anywhere!) We go to the library and work on our resumes and do a bunch of other grown-up crap.
At this point in our trip we have come to the realization that "freedom camping" isn't just some hippy free-for-all without rules and restrictions (illegal camping can lead to huge bylaw fines, we are truly lucky we made it this far unscathed) so we go to the local iSite. The nice lady gives us a map and says: "You can camp anywhere in these yellow ares as long as you're 50 meters near a public bathroom." We pick a sport near the marina and Tahunanui Beach. Actually finding the area is an epic pain in the ass and when we do we discover its totally industrial. We eat some dinner and walk down the boardwalk. We decide to treat ourselves to a movie night and since I just finished Gone Girl and Jordan has read it as well, we think it's fitting.
We go to a quaint theatre in town. The guy behind the counter is flabbergasted when Jordan asks for a "pop".
"Pardon?"
"Er... soda?"
"I don't know what you're saying."
"Like... Coca Cola."
"Oh... Oh! You mean a drink..."
I guess? (I've now learned that 'fizzy drink' is the accepted terminology.)
The theatre has about 10 seats, its an intimate experience and we strike up a conversation with a Swiss guy about whether or not the movie will compare to the book (it did, David Fincher killed it!)
We pass out in a parking lot at the marina.
We continue to do "adult" things the next day (run errands, grocery shop, go to the pharmacy, etc, etc) and lo and behold, what do we see cruising down Halifax Street? None other than the Kiwi-Mobile itself! It's here in Nelson and being driven by two absolute babes! I wave and then realize they have NO idea why I'm waving, hence the weird looks. I hope to run into them as I'm curious to how much they paid (and I have great segway to strike up a conversation with two travelling hunks.)
We make dinner at Tahunanui Beach (quickly becoming our favourite spot) and walk the bustling beach in the falling darkness.
In the morning we enjoy coffee from our fabulous new French Press (or, the less enchanting New Zealand name: Coffee Plunger) and sit it at the beach before we head to Abel Tasman at the head of the South Island.
Thursday, 11 December 2014
Kaikoura
Jordan and I are cruising down highway 1, bumping Disclosure on the iPod adapter and eating wasabi peas. Our destination: Kaikoura.
Driving on the left side feels surprisingly natural. Sitting on the right side helps and after the initial moments of constantly reminding yourself "stay left, stay left," it's just like driving in Canada, only exactly opposite.
We arrive at the Kaikoura coast and are astonished by the views. Brilliant blue waters crash onto jagged rocks along the windy coast and we feel we made the right choice in coming here. We explore the town and stop at a cafe for our daily dose of caffeine (and to use their wifi.) While we're sitting on the patio, sipping cappuccinos I see a familiar face. I squint towards it and my mouth drop, it's Michele! He is returning to his hostel after a walk and joins us. We all remark on what a 'small world' it is and catch up on our activities. Michele is headed to Auckland tomorrow and then home to Switzerland. We exchange farewells and Jordan and I spot a liquor store. We decide to celebrate out new adventure and first night of freedom camping by indulging in a few beers. We hit the liquor store and seek out a place to camp. At this point, we still believe that its "legal" to freedom camp anywhere we want (we would later find out that this is not at all the case) so we start searching for a spot free of any "No Camping" signs.
We see a campground on the coast that seems happening, but when we pull in its this weird makeshift trailer tent shanty town. A sign says something about payment. No way are we paying to camp!
We continue down the highway on the outskirts of town. We find a pullout on the beach with a picnic table and its void of the "No Camping" signs. Perfect!
We start setting up and suddenly Jordan remarks, "Is that a seal?"
Sure enough there he is only a couple meters away from us, curled up on a rock.
"Do you think he's... dying?" we both wonder. He's unmoving and totally alone, he also seems completely unaware of us. I get closer and he looks at me lazily and twitches his whiskers.
"He's definitely alive."
He rolls over and repositions himself under the warm afternoon sunlight. Nope, not dead, just extremely lazy.
We try to set up our gas cooker, but it is without instructions and the burner won't light. Great. Looks like its sandwiches again. We drink our cleverly named "John Lemons" - malt liquor and lemon beverages and begin an intense game of Crazy 8 Countdown. An Asian family stops to admire the seal and at some point the seals flops back into the water and swims away without us realizing. We're disappointed to have missed his departure. We drink into the night and begin an impromptu dance party on top of the picnic table. I spill an entire beer all over the van. We pass out quickly.
In the morning there are now two sleepy seals. We struggle to compose ourselves and re-organize the van. Jordan is a wreck: her allergies have her sneezing and sniffling and her eyes are itchy, she even has a couple hives. We drive into town in search of allergy medicine and supplies. I YouTube instructions on how to use the stove. We're convinced we have it figured out. It starts to gently rain so we head to South Bay and make lunch under the protection of the great twisted trees. Once again, our cooker fails to ignite. It's sandwiches again. All I can hear in my head is that Fred Penner song:
Sandwiches are beautiful, sandwiches are fine, I like sandwiches I eat them all the time...
We sleep on a different beach, but equally as beautiful.
The next morning Jordan is up before me and sitting outside reading her book. I'm lying in bed willing myself to get up when I hear the voice of an unfamiliar woman:
"Good morning. Do you want to go on a boat?"
"Um, yeah! Sure! Can I change first?"
"Of course, take your time."
Jordan reappears in the van.
"Did someone invite you to go boating?" I ask her.
"Yeah. Do you wanna go?"
"Yes!"
We quickly dress and run out to the beach. An older man on a tractor is backing a steel fishing boat into the water. He hollers 'good morning' at us and we climb aboard.
We are introduced to the woman, Rose, from Hawaii and a man with her, Graeme, who is a Kiwi. The older man pushes us out and climbs on. He is named Gary and does chartered fishing trips. They take us out to check on their crayfish traps. I've never actually seen a crayfish and its a hideous creature. They kind of look like lobsters but with more pinchers, they're really bumpy and colours of purple and green. We watch in amazement as they empty the traps, measure the crayfish and clip their tales. We admit we've never eaten crayfish before and Gary insists we try one.
"Follow us, we have a few cooked ones from last night. They're delicious!"
Back on shore we follow them down the street and they present us with two huge frozen crayfish and tell us to simply thaw them out, crack them in half and enjoy. We can't thank them enough and desperately wish we had something (a gift, knickknack, anything!) to give back to them.
We warm up the crayfish and enjoy them with garlic butter; its easily the best meal we've had this entire trip.
Gary has recommended a camping spot called Marfel's Beach. It's a small government campsite right on the water and totally off the grid. It's $6 a person, but we gladly pay the money and spend sometime exploring the area.
Next, we're off the Nelson.
Driving on the left side feels surprisingly natural. Sitting on the right side helps and after the initial moments of constantly reminding yourself "stay left, stay left," it's just like driving in Canada, only exactly opposite.
We arrive at the Kaikoura coast and are astonished by the views. Brilliant blue waters crash onto jagged rocks along the windy coast and we feel we made the right choice in coming here. We explore the town and stop at a cafe for our daily dose of caffeine (and to use their wifi.) While we're sitting on the patio, sipping cappuccinos I see a familiar face. I squint towards it and my mouth drop, it's Michele! He is returning to his hostel after a walk and joins us. We all remark on what a 'small world' it is and catch up on our activities. Michele is headed to Auckland tomorrow and then home to Switzerland. We exchange farewells and Jordan and I spot a liquor store. We decide to celebrate out new adventure and first night of freedom camping by indulging in a few beers. We hit the liquor store and seek out a place to camp. At this point, we still believe that its "legal" to freedom camp anywhere we want (we would later find out that this is not at all the case) so we start searching for a spot free of any "No Camping" signs.
We see a campground on the coast that seems happening, but when we pull in its this weird makeshift trailer tent shanty town. A sign says something about payment. No way are we paying to camp!
We continue down the highway on the outskirts of town. We find a pullout on the beach with a picnic table and its void of the "No Camping" signs. Perfect!
We start setting up and suddenly Jordan remarks, "Is that a seal?"
Sure enough there he is only a couple meters away from us, curled up on a rock.
"Do you think he's... dying?" we both wonder. He's unmoving and totally alone, he also seems completely unaware of us. I get closer and he looks at me lazily and twitches his whiskers.
"He's definitely alive."
He rolls over and repositions himself under the warm afternoon sunlight. Nope, not dead, just extremely lazy.
We try to set up our gas cooker, but it is without instructions and the burner won't light. Great. Looks like its sandwiches again. We drink our cleverly named "John Lemons" - malt liquor and lemon beverages and begin an intense game of Crazy 8 Countdown. An Asian family stops to admire the seal and at some point the seals flops back into the water and swims away without us realizing. We're disappointed to have missed his departure. We drink into the night and begin an impromptu dance party on top of the picnic table. I spill an entire beer all over the van. We pass out quickly.
In the morning there are now two sleepy seals. We struggle to compose ourselves and re-organize the van. Jordan is a wreck: her allergies have her sneezing and sniffling and her eyes are itchy, she even has a couple hives. We drive into town in search of allergy medicine and supplies. I YouTube instructions on how to use the stove. We're convinced we have it figured out. It starts to gently rain so we head to South Bay and make lunch under the protection of the great twisted trees. Once again, our cooker fails to ignite. It's sandwiches again. All I can hear in my head is that Fred Penner song:
Sandwiches are beautiful, sandwiches are fine, I like sandwiches I eat them all the time...
We sleep on a different beach, but equally as beautiful.
The next morning Jordan is up before me and sitting outside reading her book. I'm lying in bed willing myself to get up when I hear the voice of an unfamiliar woman:
"Good morning. Do you want to go on a boat?"
"Um, yeah! Sure! Can I change first?"
"Of course, take your time."
Jordan reappears in the van.
"Did someone invite you to go boating?" I ask her.
"Yeah. Do you wanna go?"
"Yes!"
We quickly dress and run out to the beach. An older man on a tractor is backing a steel fishing boat into the water. He hollers 'good morning' at us and we climb aboard.
We are introduced to the woman, Rose, from Hawaii and a man with her, Graeme, who is a Kiwi. The older man pushes us out and climbs on. He is named Gary and does chartered fishing trips. They take us out to check on their crayfish traps. I've never actually seen a crayfish and its a hideous creature. They kind of look like lobsters but with more pinchers, they're really bumpy and colours of purple and green. We watch in amazement as they empty the traps, measure the crayfish and clip their tales. We admit we've never eaten crayfish before and Gary insists we try one.
"Follow us, we have a few cooked ones from last night. They're delicious!"
Back on shore we follow them down the street and they present us with two huge frozen crayfish and tell us to simply thaw them out, crack them in half and enjoy. We can't thank them enough and desperately wish we had something (a gift, knickknack, anything!) to give back to them.
We warm up the crayfish and enjoy them with garlic butter; its easily the best meal we've had this entire trip.
Gary has recommended a camping spot called Marfel's Beach. It's a small government campsite right on the water and totally off the grid. It's $6 a person, but we gladly pay the money and spend sometime exploring the area.
Next, we're off the Nelson.
Thursday, 4 December 2014
All the Way to Christchurch
We decide our next move should be to Christchurch. We are already tired of relying on buses and the expense of staying in hostels and want to look for our van in Christchurch since they seem to have no shortage available on the backpackers forum. I am lucky enough to have the contact information of an old friend of my mom's named Aileen; we contact her asking if it's okay for us to stay a couple days.
She says yes and gives us directions to her home in Cass Bay, we pack up and head to the bus stop where we begin the gruelling 7 hour bus ride. We mostly nap and listen to music while staring out at the beautiful scenery: Mount Cook, Lake Tekapo (where we break for lunch and are immediately accosted by a group of hungry birds, an ongoing theme of our trip.) We stop for a bathroom break at a random truck stop and just happen to run into Jordan #2 who is also planning to make his way to Christchurch. We arrive at our destination and take the bus to Lyttelton where Aileen picks us up and takes us for fish and chips and shows us some of the rehabilitation efforts in their community. The earthquakes have destroyed many historical buildings and the damaged is astounding.
Day 1:
We are lucky enough to join Aileen and some other bay residents on a boat trip to Quail Island. The weather co-operates and we sprawl out on a picnic blanket and nibble croissants, eggs, chocolate and other delicious goodies Aileen has prepared. She gives us a tour of the island, a former leprosy colony and Maori mineral site, the views are breathtaking, we see a family of quails.
When we return, her husband Ollie picks us up from the wharf and greets us warmly. The two of them take us to Sumner Beach, on the way we see more of the devastation caused by the earthquakes. Million dollar homes have collapsed down cliffs, roads and businesses still lie in ruins.
We are met with Aileen and Ollie's lovely daughters: Lucinda and Vanessa, as well as Vanessa's husband Neo, their baby Arlo and 3 adorable chihuahuas. We join the whole family for beachside coffee and then all head to Taylor's Mistake, a gorgeous surf beach nestled in the valley. On our way back, we see a group of guys hanging out by camper vans,
"Let's ask these guys where they go their vans from," Ollie suggests eagerly.
The guys are all French Canadian, I tell them I'm from the island.
"Nanaimo?" an unfamiliar guy guesses.
"Yeah, actually..." I reply, shocked.
They inform us that their van is from the Backpackers Car Market in town. We all pick up supplies and head to Vanessa and Neo's for a barbecue. Vanessa looks at TradeMe (NZ's Craigslist) and finds a big yellow van covered in Kiwi stickers, the price: only $2400.
Day 2:
Aileen and Ollie take us to look at vans. We checkout the Backpackers Car Market, it's a horrible place that looks like a van grave yard and where dreams go to die. The average van $4000, full of stinky, dirty camping supplies. None of them have Rego or WOFs (necessities to drive) and they sputter and cough when we try to start them up.
We go to Hagley Park to meet "Chris" and see his Kiwi Van. The site of it is quite something, but Jordan and I find it charming in a quirky way. We meet its owner, Chris, a British guy (or "Pom" as Kiwis say) who fancies himself a "wheeler and dealer of camper vans." He changes his story several times and curses us out when we ask to see the engine, as it requires the bed be moved.
"Bloody Kiwis and Canadians!"
I take it for a test drive and take a deep breath as I remind myself to stay on the left side of the road. The van seems solid, the owner, not so much. We tell him we'll consider it.
I offer to cook the family dinner (pasta puttanesca, one of my few Italian specialties.) Chris sends a barrages of pushy texts to Aileen. He refuses our low ball offer of $2000. We tell him we'll get back to him tomorrow.
Day 3:
We decide it best to look at more vans. Something doesn't quite feel right about the Kiwimobile. Ollie takes us to look at a van that previously belonged to their friends, the Webbs. It's been purchased by a mechanic who has replaced the diesel pump and done some other work. They feel it is the most mechanically sound and it's been overhauled and they know its history, only problem: it's not set up for camping. We get the guy down to $3250 and Ollie says he can build us a bed. We're told we have an hour to decide or he's selling it to a couple with a higher offer. We're not sure whether or not to believe him but we go look at another van belonging to a German guy named Daniel. It's nicely maintained and has lots of supplies. We try to talk him down from the $3500 price mark (as the Rego and WOF are about to expire) he won't budge as he has others interested and wants to hear their offers. We're scared to miss out on both so we make a decision and buy the Webb's van. Getting the money out is a nightmare (damn you $500 daily limit and cash only sellers!) but after a call to our banks (I'm actually terrified to see my phone bill) we get is sorted. Transferring and insuring our new van (in which we have lovingly named Diesi for Diesel/Kiwi) turns out to be quite easy. Ollie puts together a bed in no time at all and we spend the night cleaning and vacuuming our new ride.
Day 4:
Here comes the pricy part. We buy all necessary supplies:
mattress, blankets, pillows, plates, cutlery, cups, gas cooker, water tank, cooler, cookware, knives, cutting boards, so on and so forth, not to mention filling her with gas and buying groceries. Most of our purchases are from the Warehouse (NZ's version of Target) and are shockingly cheap! $3 pillows? Yes please! Our van is pimped out in no time at all.
Day 5:
The time has come of us to set sail on our adventure. We plan to head to Kaikoura next and say a heartfelt goodbye to Aileen and Ollie. We plan to loop around the Northern tip of the South Island and end up back in Christchurch, so we promise to keep in touch.
Words cannot express how thankful I am for the hospitality, kindness and generosity of their entire clan. They helped us immensely and I will always be grateful and indebted to them.
Thank you Roltons!!!
And on that note, we're off the Kaikoura! Stay tuned...
She says yes and gives us directions to her home in Cass Bay, we pack up and head to the bus stop where we begin the gruelling 7 hour bus ride. We mostly nap and listen to music while staring out at the beautiful scenery: Mount Cook, Lake Tekapo (where we break for lunch and are immediately accosted by a group of hungry birds, an ongoing theme of our trip.) We stop for a bathroom break at a random truck stop and just happen to run into Jordan #2 who is also planning to make his way to Christchurch. We arrive at our destination and take the bus to Lyttelton where Aileen picks us up and takes us for fish and chips and shows us some of the rehabilitation efforts in their community. The earthquakes have destroyed many historical buildings and the damaged is astounding.
Day 1:
We are lucky enough to join Aileen and some other bay residents on a boat trip to Quail Island. The weather co-operates and we sprawl out on a picnic blanket and nibble croissants, eggs, chocolate and other delicious goodies Aileen has prepared. She gives us a tour of the island, a former leprosy colony and Maori mineral site, the views are breathtaking, we see a family of quails.
When we return, her husband Ollie picks us up from the wharf and greets us warmly. The two of them take us to Sumner Beach, on the way we see more of the devastation caused by the earthquakes. Million dollar homes have collapsed down cliffs, roads and businesses still lie in ruins.
We are met with Aileen and Ollie's lovely daughters: Lucinda and Vanessa, as well as Vanessa's husband Neo, their baby Arlo and 3 adorable chihuahuas. We join the whole family for beachside coffee and then all head to Taylor's Mistake, a gorgeous surf beach nestled in the valley. On our way back, we see a group of guys hanging out by camper vans,
"Let's ask these guys where they go their vans from," Ollie suggests eagerly.
The guys are all French Canadian, I tell them I'm from the island.
"Nanaimo?" an unfamiliar guy guesses.
"Yeah, actually..." I reply, shocked.
They inform us that their van is from the Backpackers Car Market in town. We all pick up supplies and head to Vanessa and Neo's for a barbecue. Vanessa looks at TradeMe (NZ's Craigslist) and finds a big yellow van covered in Kiwi stickers, the price: only $2400.
Day 2:
Aileen and Ollie take us to look at vans. We checkout the Backpackers Car Market, it's a horrible place that looks like a van grave yard and where dreams go to die. The average van $4000, full of stinky, dirty camping supplies. None of them have Rego or WOFs (necessities to drive) and they sputter and cough when we try to start them up.
We go to Hagley Park to meet "Chris" and see his Kiwi Van. The site of it is quite something, but Jordan and I find it charming in a quirky way. We meet its owner, Chris, a British guy (or "Pom" as Kiwis say) who fancies himself a "wheeler and dealer of camper vans." He changes his story several times and curses us out when we ask to see the engine, as it requires the bed be moved.
"Bloody Kiwis and Canadians!"
I take it for a test drive and take a deep breath as I remind myself to stay on the left side of the road. The van seems solid, the owner, not so much. We tell him we'll consider it.
I offer to cook the family dinner (pasta puttanesca, one of my few Italian specialties.) Chris sends a barrages of pushy texts to Aileen. He refuses our low ball offer of $2000. We tell him we'll get back to him tomorrow.
Day 3:
We decide it best to look at more vans. Something doesn't quite feel right about the Kiwimobile. Ollie takes us to look at a van that previously belonged to their friends, the Webbs. It's been purchased by a mechanic who has replaced the diesel pump and done some other work. They feel it is the most mechanically sound and it's been overhauled and they know its history, only problem: it's not set up for camping. We get the guy down to $3250 and Ollie says he can build us a bed. We're told we have an hour to decide or he's selling it to a couple with a higher offer. We're not sure whether or not to believe him but we go look at another van belonging to a German guy named Daniel. It's nicely maintained and has lots of supplies. We try to talk him down from the $3500 price mark (as the Rego and WOF are about to expire) he won't budge as he has others interested and wants to hear their offers. We're scared to miss out on both so we make a decision and buy the Webb's van. Getting the money out is a nightmare (damn you $500 daily limit and cash only sellers!) but after a call to our banks (I'm actually terrified to see my phone bill) we get is sorted. Transferring and insuring our new van (in which we have lovingly named Diesi for Diesel/Kiwi) turns out to be quite easy. Ollie puts together a bed in no time at all and we spend the night cleaning and vacuuming our new ride.
Day 4:
Here comes the pricy part. We buy all necessary supplies:
mattress, blankets, pillows, plates, cutlery, cups, gas cooker, water tank, cooler, cookware, knives, cutting boards, so on and so forth, not to mention filling her with gas and buying groceries. Most of our purchases are from the Warehouse (NZ's version of Target) and are shockingly cheap! $3 pillows? Yes please! Our van is pimped out in no time at all.
Day 5:
The time has come of us to set sail on our adventure. We plan to head to Kaikoura next and say a heartfelt goodbye to Aileen and Ollie. We plan to loop around the Northern tip of the South Island and end up back in Christchurch, so we promise to keep in touch.
Words cannot express how thankful I am for the hospitality, kindness and generosity of their entire clan. They helped us immensely and I will always be grateful and indebted to them.
Thank you Roltons!!!
And on that note, we're off the Kaikoura! Stay tuned...
Monday, 1 December 2014
Wanaka
We decide to travel to Wanaka, Queenstown's less touristy cousin.
After much hemming and hawing about catching the bus, our flatmate, Michel, informs us that he is planning to rent a car and drive to Wanaka and if we want to join we are more than welcome to.
We gather everything together, manage to fit all our luggage in the tiny Corolla and off we go. The moment we pull out onto the road I gasp loudly, the whole driving-on-the-left-side-of-the-road thing is really throwing me off. I've already almost been hit by countless cars when crossing the street, due to looking the wrong way. On the way we stop for lunch and to watch people hurtle themselves off bridges at the bungee zone.
In Wanaka we check into the "Purple Cow," poor Michel is once again stuck with us girls in a little bungalow (with its own kitchenette no less.) The weather is on and off, Michel is going on a hike so he drops us off at "Puzzling World," a "must see" tourist sport (or so I'm told.) Jordan and I pay our $18 and start off in the 3D maze. The concept seems simple enough: find the 4 towers of blue, green, yellow and red. We begin our search and pretty quickly we realize this is not going to be an easy task. Jordan comes up with a theory: maybe if we take all right turns we will eventually find our way. We begin testing the theory and within 10 minutes we have found blue, then yellow, then red. Feeling pretty confident we seek out green and find it in no time at all. An aggressive sign reminds us:
DON'T FORGET: UPON FINDING TOWERS YOU MUST FIND EXIT.
Shouldn't be a problem we think, despite the fact that moments before an American couple argue loudly and storm out of the emergency exit citing the impossibility of ever finding the correct exit. One hour. One hour we spend in that maze trying to get out. We see the exit gate, we know where it was, but none of the paths seem to lead to it. We scour every corner, over and over again, until finally, exasperated we opt to take the emergency exit for fear Puzzling World will close before we ever make it to the "Illusions Room."
The "Illusions Room" is another frightening experience in itself. It's cool enough: 3D posters and other trippy sites, not unlike a poor man's Science World. We enter the infamous tilted room and both immediately feel dizzy and nauseous. Why anyone would build a room like that is beyond me. We leave shortly after, desperate for fresh air and on our way back we decide to do the hike Michel had down earlier: Iron Mountain. The views at the top are incredible. The sky is divided perfectly with one side grey and foreboding and the other side is nothing but blue. It's still amazing to me how extreme the weather conditions are here and how quickly it changes.
Back in town and extremely famished, Jordan, Michel and I walk to the super market and load up fajita supplies. We relax for the rest of the night, I devour Gone Girl.
After much hemming and hawing about catching the bus, our flatmate, Michel, informs us that he is planning to rent a car and drive to Wanaka and if we want to join we are more than welcome to.
We gather everything together, manage to fit all our luggage in the tiny Corolla and off we go. The moment we pull out onto the road I gasp loudly, the whole driving-on-the-left-side-of-the-road thing is really throwing me off. I've already almost been hit by countless cars when crossing the street, due to looking the wrong way. On the way we stop for lunch and to watch people hurtle themselves off bridges at the bungee zone.
In Wanaka we check into the "Purple Cow," poor Michel is once again stuck with us girls in a little bungalow (with its own kitchenette no less.) The weather is on and off, Michel is going on a hike so he drops us off at "Puzzling World," a "must see" tourist sport (or so I'm told.) Jordan and I pay our $18 and start off in the 3D maze. The concept seems simple enough: find the 4 towers of blue, green, yellow and red. We begin our search and pretty quickly we realize this is not going to be an easy task. Jordan comes up with a theory: maybe if we take all right turns we will eventually find our way. We begin testing the theory and within 10 minutes we have found blue, then yellow, then red. Feeling pretty confident we seek out green and find it in no time at all. An aggressive sign reminds us:
DON'T FORGET: UPON FINDING TOWERS YOU MUST FIND EXIT.
Shouldn't be a problem we think, despite the fact that moments before an American couple argue loudly and storm out of the emergency exit citing the impossibility of ever finding the correct exit. One hour. One hour we spend in that maze trying to get out. We see the exit gate, we know where it was, but none of the paths seem to lead to it. We scour every corner, over and over again, until finally, exasperated we opt to take the emergency exit for fear Puzzling World will close before we ever make it to the "Illusions Room."
The "Illusions Room" is another frightening experience in itself. It's cool enough: 3D posters and other trippy sites, not unlike a poor man's Science World. We enter the infamous tilted room and both immediately feel dizzy and nauseous. Why anyone would build a room like that is beyond me. We leave shortly after, desperate for fresh air and on our way back we decide to do the hike Michel had down earlier: Iron Mountain. The views at the top are incredible. The sky is divided perfectly with one side grey and foreboding and the other side is nothing but blue. It's still amazing to me how extreme the weather conditions are here and how quickly it changes.
Back in town and extremely famished, Jordan, Michel and I walk to the super market and load up fajita supplies. We relax for the rest of the night, I devour Gone Girl.
Tuesday, 25 November 2014
The Adventure Begins
6 months ago I met Jordan and the two of us instantly clicked.
She was someone I liked right away and I immediately knew the two of us would be friends. It wasn't long before we were attached at the hip.
When she told me about her plans to live and work in New Zealand she enthusiastically suggested I join her. I briefly considered it (I did think she would make a great travel companion) but I declined, citing the same old excuses:
"I don't have enough money."
"I have too much going on right now."
"I have to finish school."
After 3 gruelling months of back to back doubles at two jobs, I looked at my bank account statement one day and my jaw dropped. No longer could I use the "I have no money" excuse. I had just completed the 120 hours necessary for my TEFL Certificate so the school point was also moot. And really, what did I have going on? The season was winding down, both my jobs would be closing soon, besides the beautiful scenery and amazing people there wasn't much holding me to Tofino.
Yet still I hesitated, just like I've done in the past, just like I always do. Because the truth of the matter is I was scared. I have never travelled before and it was this unprecedented fear that had kept me from it in the past and really, what was I scared of?
I thought back to my first week in Tofino, how I had no idea where I was going to live, what I was going to do for work, I just packed my stuff and left the same day. Was it frightening at first? Sure it was, but then life got so incredibly awesome for me. This situation was no different, sometimes you just have to say, "Yes" to life. Amazing things happen when we push ourselves out of our comfort zones.
As I began my preparations to leave, truthfully I was super nervous as the reality dawned on me: I was about to move to another country, on another continent, on the other side of the planet where I had no job, no where to live, no prospects and no plans. It still felt surreal, as if it was someone else's life I was preparing for.
The day finally came, Jordan and I stood at our check-in at YVR and both took a deep breath:
Here goes nothing. And everything.
Our plane ride went by fast, the two of us binge watched American Horror Story on my laptop and tried to sleep through the night (keyword: tried.)
We touched down in Auckland with less than an hour to catch our connecting flight. Neither of us could find a pen on the plane and then couldn't locate one anywhere in the terminal so I hastily asked an old man to borrow one while in line at customs.
"You know you're supposed to fill that out on the plane right?"
"It's fine if you use it, but don't use up all my ink."
"So remember next time to make sure you bring a pen."
Shut up old man! I get it, I'm disorganized, spare me your lecture, I thought as I tried to move with the line while I hastily scribbled out my declaration card, all the while nervous sweat poured down my face.
We had to pick up our luggage to re-check it for our next flight AND go through customs AND go through Bio-Security Screening.
While we waited in line I kept chanting in my head: We will make our flight, we will make our flight, we will make our flight.
We missed our flight. I blame the Auckland airport entirely for being such an absolute shit show. Here's how it went down:
We began to speed walk to "Domestic Transfers" thinking that it was the logical choice. We struggled at the Self Check-in booths that beeped angrily at us whenever we tried to scan our passports. I asked a nearby employee if I was even in the right place. She directed us to the nearby baggage drop. At the baggage drop we were told that we actually needed to go to the Domestic Flights area, which was, much to our horror, an entirely different airport terminal.
"It's a 10 minute walk or you can try and catch the bus."
"Will we even make our flight?"
"I don't know..."
That's helpful.
We practically ran to the other terminal, all the while cursing out the Auckland airport for this inconvenience.
"Welcome to travelling," Jordan remarked, "Things never go the way you plan."
Once inside, I quickly asked an employee where we should be as our boarding pass had no gate number listed. He gestured over to a check-in area. As we began to go through security Jordan was told she was in the wrong place, while I was told I was fine. The two of us discovered that we needed to drop our bags off... at the complete opposite end of the airport.
There were still 6 people in front of us at baggage drop when they made the final boarding call for our flight number, I could barely make out, "Francesca Paladino and Jordan Olson-Lyons" along with a strew of others.
"We'll never make it, we've missed our flight!" I cried out, fighting back tears. FINALLY someone helpful came along and said, "No matter, we will get you on the next flight free of charge, it leaves in an hour."
SERIOUSLY?! Why couldn't someone have suggested that from the get go? There was no way we would ever have made that flight, even if we hadn't had those minor setbacks.
Two little birds that had gotten into the terminal flew around frantically and I chuckled to myself as they reminded me of us.
At our gate we were able to calm down, relax and begin to dab the beads of perspiration that had formed on our faces.
"How's it going?" Jordan randomly blurted out to the guy sitting across from us.
"Good..." he said, we detected an accent.
"Are you from Queenstown?" Jordan asked.
"No... I'm from Denmark," he responded.
"Oh cool,"
"You're American and you actually know where Denmark is?" he asked in shock.
"Yeah, I've been to Denmark," Jordan explained.
"And we're Canadian, not American," I added.
His entire demeanour entirely changed and he lit up, "Ohhh Canadian! I have family in Vancouver."
The Queenstown Aiport was in stark contrast to Auckland. It was small and easy to navigate and was blasting upbeat dance music upon our arrival. "Welcome to Queenstown!" it practically screamed.
After grabbing our luggage, Denmark started asking me where "Such-and-Such Hostel" was located.
"I don't know, but if you catch the bus into town I'm sure you'll be able to easily find it," I told him.
So he followed us to the bus stop and continued to pepper us with questions, constantly throwing in random remarks,
"You guys dress SO Canadian"
"You definitely overpaid for your hostel, there are way cheaper ones around"
"You'll never be able to find a job out here, you better start looking now"
Wow, thanks Denmark for tagging along and raining on our parade. We parted ways without a farewell, I hoped we wouldn't run into him again.
Now here we are, just soaking it all in.
It's true that Queenstown is reminiscent of Banff and Whistler, but it also reminds me a lot of the Okanagan: all the houses up on the hills looking down on the perfect blue lake. We saw the Remarkable Mountains during our descent and they certainly lived up to their name. So far, New Zealand feels a lot like home.
Day 1: We finally arrive in Queenstown and immediately shower off the stench of airplane and nervous sweat. The two of us go out for Indian food, explore the town, walk the lake. We get settled into our hostel, a beautiful place located atop a bunch of businesses, in the middle of downtown with extraordinary views. We meet our roommates, a Canadian, also named Jordan, promptly renamed by me as Jordan #2 and a Swiss guy named Michelle.
Jordan and I buy the cheapest, strongest, largest bottles of cider we can find and stock up on junk food. We vow to drink all the cider in celebration of our arrival. We pass out shortly after with terrible stomachaches.
Day 2: We get up early and buy actual, real groceries (read: mostly just sandwich supplies.) We pack lunches and begin the 1 hour hike to the Skyline Gondola. The hike was worth the incredible view. We buy beers and take frisbees to the frisbee golf course at the park. We begin to get buzzed and quickly lose light (and our frisbees, which have a $20 deposit!) Jordan almost loses hers in the lake, and then immediately after up in a tree, so we choose to forgo most of the "holes." We stop at Fernburger for one of the infamous burgers and a beer (lived up to the hype!) When we returned to the hostel we were met by a bunch of people in the hallway who invite us out for a beer. We go to a bar called "Cowboys"... it's nothing like the famed bar in Calgary. None of us are sure what to make of it. They play really bad 80's music and sell steins of beer.
Day 3: It is raining so we have a lazy day. We got for coffee. Twice. We read our books for most of the day (I can't put down Gone Girl!) and take it fairly easy.
Tomorrow, we are off to Wanaka. Stay tuned...
She was someone I liked right away and I immediately knew the two of us would be friends. It wasn't long before we were attached at the hip.
When she told me about her plans to live and work in New Zealand she enthusiastically suggested I join her. I briefly considered it (I did think she would make a great travel companion) but I declined, citing the same old excuses:
"I don't have enough money."
"I have too much going on right now."
"I have to finish school."
After 3 gruelling months of back to back doubles at two jobs, I looked at my bank account statement one day and my jaw dropped. No longer could I use the "I have no money" excuse. I had just completed the 120 hours necessary for my TEFL Certificate so the school point was also moot. And really, what did I have going on? The season was winding down, both my jobs would be closing soon, besides the beautiful scenery and amazing people there wasn't much holding me to Tofino.
Yet still I hesitated, just like I've done in the past, just like I always do. Because the truth of the matter is I was scared. I have never travelled before and it was this unprecedented fear that had kept me from it in the past and really, what was I scared of?
I thought back to my first week in Tofino, how I had no idea where I was going to live, what I was going to do for work, I just packed my stuff and left the same day. Was it frightening at first? Sure it was, but then life got so incredibly awesome for me. This situation was no different, sometimes you just have to say, "Yes" to life. Amazing things happen when we push ourselves out of our comfort zones.
As I began my preparations to leave, truthfully I was super nervous as the reality dawned on me: I was about to move to another country, on another continent, on the other side of the planet where I had no job, no where to live, no prospects and no plans. It still felt surreal, as if it was someone else's life I was preparing for.
The day finally came, Jordan and I stood at our check-in at YVR and both took a deep breath:
Here goes nothing. And everything.
Our plane ride went by fast, the two of us binge watched American Horror Story on my laptop and tried to sleep through the night (keyword: tried.)
We touched down in Auckland with less than an hour to catch our connecting flight. Neither of us could find a pen on the plane and then couldn't locate one anywhere in the terminal so I hastily asked an old man to borrow one while in line at customs.
"You know you're supposed to fill that out on the plane right?"
"It's fine if you use it, but don't use up all my ink."
"So remember next time to make sure you bring a pen."
Shut up old man! I get it, I'm disorganized, spare me your lecture, I thought as I tried to move with the line while I hastily scribbled out my declaration card, all the while nervous sweat poured down my face.
We had to pick up our luggage to re-check it for our next flight AND go through customs AND go through Bio-Security Screening.
While we waited in line I kept chanting in my head: We will make our flight, we will make our flight, we will make our flight.
We missed our flight. I blame the Auckland airport entirely for being such an absolute shit show. Here's how it went down:
We began to speed walk to "Domestic Transfers" thinking that it was the logical choice. We struggled at the Self Check-in booths that beeped angrily at us whenever we tried to scan our passports. I asked a nearby employee if I was even in the right place. She directed us to the nearby baggage drop. At the baggage drop we were told that we actually needed to go to the Domestic Flights area, which was, much to our horror, an entirely different airport terminal.
"It's a 10 minute walk or you can try and catch the bus."
"Will we even make our flight?"
"I don't know..."
That's helpful.
We practically ran to the other terminal, all the while cursing out the Auckland airport for this inconvenience.
"Welcome to travelling," Jordan remarked, "Things never go the way you plan."
Once inside, I quickly asked an employee where we should be as our boarding pass had no gate number listed. He gestured over to a check-in area. As we began to go through security Jordan was told she was in the wrong place, while I was told I was fine. The two of us discovered that we needed to drop our bags off... at the complete opposite end of the airport.
There were still 6 people in front of us at baggage drop when they made the final boarding call for our flight number, I could barely make out, "Francesca Paladino and Jordan Olson-Lyons" along with a strew of others.
"We'll never make it, we've missed our flight!" I cried out, fighting back tears. FINALLY someone helpful came along and said, "No matter, we will get you on the next flight free of charge, it leaves in an hour."
SERIOUSLY?! Why couldn't someone have suggested that from the get go? There was no way we would ever have made that flight, even if we hadn't had those minor setbacks.
Two little birds that had gotten into the terminal flew around frantically and I chuckled to myself as they reminded me of us.
At our gate we were able to calm down, relax and begin to dab the beads of perspiration that had formed on our faces.
"How's it going?" Jordan randomly blurted out to the guy sitting across from us.
"Good..." he said, we detected an accent.
"Are you from Queenstown?" Jordan asked.
"No... I'm from Denmark," he responded.
"Oh cool,"
"You're American and you actually know where Denmark is?" he asked in shock.
"Yeah, I've been to Denmark," Jordan explained.
"And we're Canadian, not American," I added.
His entire demeanour entirely changed and he lit up, "Ohhh Canadian! I have family in Vancouver."
The Queenstown Aiport was in stark contrast to Auckland. It was small and easy to navigate and was blasting upbeat dance music upon our arrival. "Welcome to Queenstown!" it practically screamed.
After grabbing our luggage, Denmark started asking me where "Such-and-Such Hostel" was located.
"I don't know, but if you catch the bus into town I'm sure you'll be able to easily find it," I told him.
So he followed us to the bus stop and continued to pepper us with questions, constantly throwing in random remarks,
"You guys dress SO Canadian"
"You definitely overpaid for your hostel, there are way cheaper ones around"
"You'll never be able to find a job out here, you better start looking now"
Wow, thanks Denmark for tagging along and raining on our parade. We parted ways without a farewell, I hoped we wouldn't run into him again.
Now here we are, just soaking it all in.
It's true that Queenstown is reminiscent of Banff and Whistler, but it also reminds me a lot of the Okanagan: all the houses up on the hills looking down on the perfect blue lake. We saw the Remarkable Mountains during our descent and they certainly lived up to their name. So far, New Zealand feels a lot like home.
Day 1: We finally arrive in Queenstown and immediately shower off the stench of airplane and nervous sweat. The two of us go out for Indian food, explore the town, walk the lake. We get settled into our hostel, a beautiful place located atop a bunch of businesses, in the middle of downtown with extraordinary views. We meet our roommates, a Canadian, also named Jordan, promptly renamed by me as Jordan #2 and a Swiss guy named Michelle.
Jordan and I buy the cheapest, strongest, largest bottles of cider we can find and stock up on junk food. We vow to drink all the cider in celebration of our arrival. We pass out shortly after with terrible stomachaches.
Day 2: We get up early and buy actual, real groceries (read: mostly just sandwich supplies.) We pack lunches and begin the 1 hour hike to the Skyline Gondola. The hike was worth the incredible view. We buy beers and take frisbees to the frisbee golf course at the park. We begin to get buzzed and quickly lose light (and our frisbees, which have a $20 deposit!) Jordan almost loses hers in the lake, and then immediately after up in a tree, so we choose to forgo most of the "holes." We stop at Fernburger for one of the infamous burgers and a beer (lived up to the hype!) When we returned to the hostel we were met by a bunch of people in the hallway who invite us out for a beer. We go to a bar called "Cowboys"... it's nothing like the famed bar in Calgary. None of us are sure what to make of it. They play really bad 80's music and sell steins of beer.
Day 3: It is raining so we have a lazy day. We got for coffee. Twice. We read our books for most of the day (I can't put down Gone Girl!) and take it fairly easy.
Tomorrow, we are off to Wanaka. Stay tuned...
Wednesday, 3 September 2014
The Beginning of the End
It's a very bittersweet time in my life right now. On the one hand, the chaotic month of August is almost at its end and I am preparing to breathe a sigh of relief at the thought of life slowing down again. On the other hand many beautiful souls in my life are beginning to leave. Some are headed back to school, some are headed home, others are just moving on to their next adventure. I, myself am starting to plan ahead for my next course of action. With the loss of such wonderful friends and the realization that I missed out on many precious memories during the final stretch of summer I can't help but feel a little lonely.
I realize that my last blog post took quite a negative turn so I have resolved to seek optimism. I refuse to say "goodbye", but rather, "until we meet again." Since I am striving to see it all in a positive light, I have decided to take this time and reflect on some of my favourite memories this incredible summer has given me:
Stubbs Island
One of my first real adventures in Tofino and I haven't stopped talking about it since. The entire long weekend was divine. From the incredible Jayce and Sidney showing up at our house with their new Dutch hitchhiking friend Bob, to downing Growlers and playing hours of Taboo on the patio, to the creation of my newest nickname "Granny Franny." The day was so much fun from start to finish. Then the next day getting off work early, booking it down to the dock to find the entire crew (and then some) waiting for me in line for the ferry: everything came together magically to bring us to the unbelievable Stubbs Island. Jayce got naked in front of little kids, Bob broke the rope swing and traumatized more little kids, and an epic croquet match/wheelbarrow race ensued (all fuelled by portable Old Fashions, of course). Even now when I think about May Long Weekend, I can't help but smile.
Radar Beach
What started off as a spur-of-the-moment idea became a very reflective time. When Jordan and I planned to hike down to Radar Beach (as she had never been) the sun was near setting and it was a race against time to make it down and back before nightfall. Being completely alone on such a secluded and pristine beach made me realize just how small I really am in this crazy universe. Creating our "Tofino Bucket List" was a great kick off to the summer.
Endless Fun at Staff Accom
From the first Toga Party to the more recent Prom Party, there was never a dull moment in staff accom. I'll never forget how Brooke organized a "Beer Hunt" for Easter which lead into an intense Beer Olympics with she and Chance donning bunny ears. It was those wild nights when I truly felt I was among friends and could really be myself and for that I will always be grateful.
Cox Bay Parties
Although fires and camping are expressly forbidden on Cox Bay, that never stopped us from experiencing a bevy of wild nights there. The insanity of Lilly's birthday, the hilarity of the staff BBQ, the magic of our "hippy" night under the stars and countless other endeavours with incredible friends. From experiencing the phosphoresce to enjoying the serene view from Cox Peek or Sunset Point, the bay is the most magical spot in Tofino for me and I will always think of it as home.
Countless Good Times at the Hen House
When I made the transition from staff accom to my new living situation, I was nervous for the change in scenery. Being fortunate enough to find such an amazing living space was awesome in itself. Getting to live with 4 of the most incredible roommates and friends was more than I could ask for. Endless laughter, BBQs, potlucks, nonstop visitors and great times chilling in the loft. Tom, Kyle, Katlyn, Chanel thank you all for the great times this summer.
Canada Day
How could I forget getting completely obliterated in the parking lot at staff accom the night before Canada Day and almost being too hungover to celebrate? Waking up and stumbling to the lodge for eggs benny with some of my favourite girls (all donning red plaid of course) and having our boss treat us all to breakfast was the best way to start the day. Going for a refreshing dip in the ocean (which lead to us deciding now was the ideal time to skinny dip, surfers and spectators be damned!) was equally awesome. Skate park festivities and fun followed.
My Birthday Celebrations
Spending my birthday weekend at Pemberton Music Festival with some of my all time favourite people, watching some of my all time favourite performers was incredible, but then when I returned home to a surprise gathering? I wanted to cry for joy. (Finally) walking into my room and seeing hundreds of balloons and a new bike (to replace my stolen one) filled my soul with joy. Getting dragged to the beach to find so many of my friends waiting there for me with a huge home-made card was more than my heart could handle. Never in my life has anyone thrown a surprise party for me, every year on my birthday I plan and organize my own party. I felt so surrounded by love I could barely believe my fortune to meet such incredible friends. To know they wanted to celebrate this monumental moment in my life, even after knowing me for a short time, is inexpressible. Listening to Davin create "The Fran Song" on the spot was just icing on the cake.
Kennedy Lake Days
Although there were several amazing days at the lake, there is one that sticks out in particular. Jordan and I had decided we were headed out to Rainbow Bridge sometime in the afternoon. After picking up several scragglers and hitting never ending roadblocks on our journey, Jordan, Angus, Joss, JD and I finally arrived at the lake... at like 5 pm. Nevertheless we spent our time sipping brewery beer and floating on our long boards. Highlights include: jumping off the bridge, exploring the lake reeds and watching Joss rolling around hammered in the back of the van.
Super Moon Pirate Party on Vargas Island
I felt I was doomed to not attend this themed party on the secluded Vargas Island under the incredible full moon. Everyone I knew were going on Sunday night and I honestly did not believe I would make the last ferry departing at 10 pm. But a series of surprising events lead me to the dock at midnight where, on a whim, a group of us asked a random guy named Dale in a tin boat if he would take us to Vargas. Not only did he agree, but he let me drive the boat. Upon arriving at the party I was immediately surrounded by all my beautiful friends who were all shouting my name and simultaneously hugging me, shocked by my unexpected entrance. We celebrated the births of Joss and Phil; we danced our assess off under the crazy light show to some awesome local DJs; and Lilly burst into tears, declaring "This is the best night of my life you guys!" Totally worth Jordan and I sleeping on the sand and waking up covered in sand flea bites.
Those are just a few of the highlights of my summer, I know there are many other incredible memories to come this fall.
What are some of yours?
I realize that my last blog post took quite a negative turn so I have resolved to seek optimism. I refuse to say "goodbye", but rather, "until we meet again." Since I am striving to see it all in a positive light, I have decided to take this time and reflect on some of my favourite memories this incredible summer has given me:
Stubbs Island
One of my first real adventures in Tofino and I haven't stopped talking about it since. The entire long weekend was divine. From the incredible Jayce and Sidney showing up at our house with their new Dutch hitchhiking friend Bob, to downing Growlers and playing hours of Taboo on the patio, to the creation of my newest nickname "Granny Franny." The day was so much fun from start to finish. Then the next day getting off work early, booking it down to the dock to find the entire crew (and then some) waiting for me in line for the ferry: everything came together magically to bring us to the unbelievable Stubbs Island. Jayce got naked in front of little kids, Bob broke the rope swing and traumatized more little kids, and an epic croquet match/wheelbarrow race ensued (all fuelled by portable Old Fashions, of course). Even now when I think about May Long Weekend, I can't help but smile.
Radar Beach
What started off as a spur-of-the-moment idea became a very reflective time. When Jordan and I planned to hike down to Radar Beach (as she had never been) the sun was near setting and it was a race against time to make it down and back before nightfall. Being completely alone on such a secluded and pristine beach made me realize just how small I really am in this crazy universe. Creating our "Tofino Bucket List" was a great kick off to the summer.
Endless Fun at Staff Accom
From the first Toga Party to the more recent Prom Party, there was never a dull moment in staff accom. I'll never forget how Brooke organized a "Beer Hunt" for Easter which lead into an intense Beer Olympics with she and Chance donning bunny ears. It was those wild nights when I truly felt I was among friends and could really be myself and for that I will always be grateful.
Cox Bay Parties
Although fires and camping are expressly forbidden on Cox Bay, that never stopped us from experiencing a bevy of wild nights there. The insanity of Lilly's birthday, the hilarity of the staff BBQ, the magic of our "hippy" night under the stars and countless other endeavours with incredible friends. From experiencing the phosphoresce to enjoying the serene view from Cox Peek or Sunset Point, the bay is the most magical spot in Tofino for me and I will always think of it as home.
Countless Good Times at the Hen House
When I made the transition from staff accom to my new living situation, I was nervous for the change in scenery. Being fortunate enough to find such an amazing living space was awesome in itself. Getting to live with 4 of the most incredible roommates and friends was more than I could ask for. Endless laughter, BBQs, potlucks, nonstop visitors and great times chilling in the loft. Tom, Kyle, Katlyn, Chanel thank you all for the great times this summer.
Canada Day
How could I forget getting completely obliterated in the parking lot at staff accom the night before Canada Day and almost being too hungover to celebrate? Waking up and stumbling to the lodge for eggs benny with some of my favourite girls (all donning red plaid of course) and having our boss treat us all to breakfast was the best way to start the day. Going for a refreshing dip in the ocean (which lead to us deciding now was the ideal time to skinny dip, surfers and spectators be damned!) was equally awesome. Skate park festivities and fun followed.
My Birthday Celebrations
Spending my birthday weekend at Pemberton Music Festival with some of my all time favourite people, watching some of my all time favourite performers was incredible, but then when I returned home to a surprise gathering? I wanted to cry for joy. (Finally) walking into my room and seeing hundreds of balloons and a new bike (to replace my stolen one) filled my soul with joy. Getting dragged to the beach to find so many of my friends waiting there for me with a huge home-made card was more than my heart could handle. Never in my life has anyone thrown a surprise party for me, every year on my birthday I plan and organize my own party. I felt so surrounded by love I could barely believe my fortune to meet such incredible friends. To know they wanted to celebrate this monumental moment in my life, even after knowing me for a short time, is inexpressible. Listening to Davin create "The Fran Song" on the spot was just icing on the cake.
Kennedy Lake Days
Although there were several amazing days at the lake, there is one that sticks out in particular. Jordan and I had decided we were headed out to Rainbow Bridge sometime in the afternoon. After picking up several scragglers and hitting never ending roadblocks on our journey, Jordan, Angus, Joss, JD and I finally arrived at the lake... at like 5 pm. Nevertheless we spent our time sipping brewery beer and floating on our long boards. Highlights include: jumping off the bridge, exploring the lake reeds and watching Joss rolling around hammered in the back of the van.
Super Moon Pirate Party on Vargas Island
I felt I was doomed to not attend this themed party on the secluded Vargas Island under the incredible full moon. Everyone I knew were going on Sunday night and I honestly did not believe I would make the last ferry departing at 10 pm. But a series of surprising events lead me to the dock at midnight where, on a whim, a group of us asked a random guy named Dale in a tin boat if he would take us to Vargas. Not only did he agree, but he let me drive the boat. Upon arriving at the party I was immediately surrounded by all my beautiful friends who were all shouting my name and simultaneously hugging me, shocked by my unexpected entrance. We celebrated the births of Joss and Phil; we danced our assess off under the crazy light show to some awesome local DJs; and Lilly burst into tears, declaring "This is the best night of my life you guys!" Totally worth Jordan and I sleeping on the sand and waking up covered in sand flea bites.
Those are just a few of the highlights of my summer, I know there are many other incredible memories to come this fall.
What are some of yours?
Thursday, 21 August 2014
Is It Over Yet?
This has been, hands down, the greatest summer of my life. Surfing, hiking, infinite days on Kennedy Lake, Growlers, Super Moon parties on private islands, countless theme parties, incredible friends, fantastic food, nature, wildlife, love and peace.
Yes, it's been a summer for the books and I can't believe I'm saying this but...
I can't wait for it to finally end.
Let me explain...
When I set out to move to Tofino I wanted to experience it with my whole heart. I never set out to make tons of money, in fact, I would have been happy to simply break even. I moved to Tofino to find myself and reflect on some personal issues. Up until recently I was doing just that. I was broke, but happy and fulfilled. Then last month I sort of fell into a second job. At first it was okay, I was working full time nights at one position and doing a couple mornings at the other. I was tired, but it was manageable and I still had days off. Then August came along with the chaos that accompanies this time of month. A lot of people have already left to go back to school, but the town is still packed with tourists. Now I've found myself with two full time jobs and working back to back 16 hour days. No time to pursue my interests, no opportunities to catch up with friends, no chance to run or surf or read. Hell, I barely have time to sleep and eat. But I know I'm not the only one in this position, this God-foresaken month is the problem.
When I first got here, all the locals griped about summer. They all said it's too noisy and stressful and there are too many tourists and douchey seasonal folks. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could anyone hate summer? And as far as the tourists, they pay our wages and drive our economy. We rely on them to keep us going through those slow winter months. We should be grateful for their presence. Right? Now I'm so cynical, I instantaneously despise every tourist I see and here's why: In April, the tourists I interacted with were warm and friendly and interested in life in Tofino. They were mostly middle-aged couples and mostly fellow British Columbians. The tourists now are a lot of Americans and Europeans. They're rich, yet miserable and traveling with young children. When asked how they are, they'll often let out a heavy sigh and answer "Alright, I guess."
What's to guess? You are in the most beautiful spot in Canada (as far as I'm concerned.) You're staying in a 5 star resort that caters to your every whim, you have nothing but free time in a town with endless adventures, but still, they're miserable.
Maybe it upsets me because I'm a little jealous. Jealous that I have to work my ass off to afford to live here. Jealous that I'll probably never be able to afford a luxurious vacation for myself. Or maybe I'm just sick of the bitching and moaning. Some of my favourite complaints include:
"You're internet SUCKS here!"
Welcome to Tofino, the internet sucks everywhere. It's hit or miss. Try putting down your phone and experiencing nature first hand rather than just tweeting about it.
"Does it ever get warmer here?"
Nope, it's a rainforest, in the Pacific Northwest. Didn't you do any research regarding the weather before you came all the way here?
"Why is it always so foggy?"
They don't call it Fogust for nothing. Again, a little research on your part would have gone a long way.
For me, its hard not to take it personally. I may not have lived here for long, but right now Tofino is home for me and people I love. I am constantly in awe of all the beauty and magic that surrounds me. For others to not see what I see, it's almost sacrilegious. To have people speak down to me and treat me as if I'm below them, that hurts even more.
I'm just tired, tired of busting my ass off every day and night for barely any money. I'm tired of putting on a fake smile and dealing with ill-mannered children. And the bike path, oh man, don't get me started on the bike path. I rely on my bike to get where I need to go. When I'm riding, I'm rushing from job to job or running errands in the little bit of spare time I have and I'm constantly dodging families out for a leisurely bike. I don't get why the concept is so difficult: Stay right, except to pass. Don't walk directly in the middle, taking up the entire path and then shoot me daggers when I try to pass you. Don't park your car directly on the bike path so I have to ride (dangerously) along the side of the highway. And DON'T park your car in front of the path to Vinyl and then stare at me as I awkwardly stumble through the prickle bushes in an effort to get home.
I don't mean to be ungrateful, but a lot of my frustration comes from being overworked and overtired. As much as I may wallow in self pity I don't expect sympathy from anyone else, because we're all in the same boat. I'm not the only one with multiple jobs, I'm not the only one putting in long hours or working 2 weeks straight without a day off. We're all pooched and starting to snap at one another, just counting down the days until the summer ends.
I dream about September when life can slow down a little. Until then, I'll just keep swimming.
Yes, it's been a summer for the books and I can't believe I'm saying this but...
I can't wait for it to finally end.
Let me explain...
When I set out to move to Tofino I wanted to experience it with my whole heart. I never set out to make tons of money, in fact, I would have been happy to simply break even. I moved to Tofino to find myself and reflect on some personal issues. Up until recently I was doing just that. I was broke, but happy and fulfilled. Then last month I sort of fell into a second job. At first it was okay, I was working full time nights at one position and doing a couple mornings at the other. I was tired, but it was manageable and I still had days off. Then August came along with the chaos that accompanies this time of month. A lot of people have already left to go back to school, but the town is still packed with tourists. Now I've found myself with two full time jobs and working back to back 16 hour days. No time to pursue my interests, no opportunities to catch up with friends, no chance to run or surf or read. Hell, I barely have time to sleep and eat. But I know I'm not the only one in this position, this God-foresaken month is the problem.
When I first got here, all the locals griped about summer. They all said it's too noisy and stressful and there are too many tourists and douchey seasonal folks. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could anyone hate summer? And as far as the tourists, they pay our wages and drive our economy. We rely on them to keep us going through those slow winter months. We should be grateful for their presence. Right? Now I'm so cynical, I instantaneously despise every tourist I see and here's why: In April, the tourists I interacted with were warm and friendly and interested in life in Tofino. They were mostly middle-aged couples and mostly fellow British Columbians. The tourists now are a lot of Americans and Europeans. They're rich, yet miserable and traveling with young children. When asked how they are, they'll often let out a heavy sigh and answer "Alright, I guess."
What's to guess? You are in the most beautiful spot in Canada (as far as I'm concerned.) You're staying in a 5 star resort that caters to your every whim, you have nothing but free time in a town with endless adventures, but still, they're miserable.
Maybe it upsets me because I'm a little jealous. Jealous that I have to work my ass off to afford to live here. Jealous that I'll probably never be able to afford a luxurious vacation for myself. Or maybe I'm just sick of the bitching and moaning. Some of my favourite complaints include:
"You're internet SUCKS here!"
Welcome to Tofino, the internet sucks everywhere. It's hit or miss. Try putting down your phone and experiencing nature first hand rather than just tweeting about it.
"Does it ever get warmer here?"
Nope, it's a rainforest, in the Pacific Northwest. Didn't you do any research regarding the weather before you came all the way here?
"Why is it always so foggy?"
They don't call it Fogust for nothing. Again, a little research on your part would have gone a long way.
For me, its hard not to take it personally. I may not have lived here for long, but right now Tofino is home for me and people I love. I am constantly in awe of all the beauty and magic that surrounds me. For others to not see what I see, it's almost sacrilegious. To have people speak down to me and treat me as if I'm below them, that hurts even more.
I'm just tired, tired of busting my ass off every day and night for barely any money. I'm tired of putting on a fake smile and dealing with ill-mannered children. And the bike path, oh man, don't get me started on the bike path. I rely on my bike to get where I need to go. When I'm riding, I'm rushing from job to job or running errands in the little bit of spare time I have and I'm constantly dodging families out for a leisurely bike. I don't get why the concept is so difficult: Stay right, except to pass. Don't walk directly in the middle, taking up the entire path and then shoot me daggers when I try to pass you. Don't park your car directly on the bike path so I have to ride (dangerously) along the side of the highway. And DON'T park your car in front of the path to Vinyl and then stare at me as I awkwardly stumble through the prickle bushes in an effort to get home.
I don't mean to be ungrateful, but a lot of my frustration comes from being overworked and overtired. As much as I may wallow in self pity I don't expect sympathy from anyone else, because we're all in the same boat. I'm not the only one with multiple jobs, I'm not the only one putting in long hours or working 2 weeks straight without a day off. We're all pooched and starting to snap at one another, just counting down the days until the summer ends.
I dream about September when life can slow down a little. Until then, I'll just keep swimming.
Wednesday, 21 May 2014
A Little Diddy Called Stubbs
A few weeks ago I participated in the Tofino Ambassador program through the Rainforest Education Society. This course is offered free of charged for Tofitians who want to learn more about the local history and is designed to provide "correct" information that those of us in the hospitality industry can pass onto guests. The instructor briefly touched on Clayoquot or "Stubbs" Island as one of the first trading posts created on the coast. She also mentioned that this island is open to the public only on May long weekend and suggested that if possible we should all take advantage of the opportunity to visit. I was immediately intrigued and began enquiring with some of the more settled locals. Almost everyone I asked admitted that they had heard of it, but had never seen it firsthand; no one seemed very keen to visit. Well I wasn't about to let this stop me, I was determined to get to the island and see these 200 year old rhododendrons Google had told me so much about. On Saturday I finished work, grabbed my camera and hauled ass downtown to enquire about the boat transportation only to discover that the boats stopped running in under an hour. No matter, I thought, I would just make a point of getting there sooner on Sunday. Sunday afternoon I left work and texted my roommate to see if she was still interested in joining. She responded to tell me that she and a group of others were on their way and would save me a spot in line. Perfect!
We climbed onto the little water taxi and jetted across the channel with Captain Steve at the helm; within a few minutes we were disembarking onto Stubbs Island. Upon ascending the ramp and seeing this natural wonderland, I felt overwhelmed with a sense of peace. It felt so separate from society despite the fact it was crawling with tourists and that you can see town from shore. There are boardwalks and paths in every which direction, dotted with little driftwood benches and gazebos. Every plant and flower have been immaculately cared for and the beaches were absolutely pristine. All along, huge old growth hemlocks loomed overhead. I can say with certainty that the 2 hours we spent there was not an adequate amount of time to explore the sprawling 130 acres of the island. We explored the boardwalks down to the beach and back up to a large open field where an impromptu croquet tournament took place (along with a quick wheelbarrow race.) All around children ran about and screaming with glee, families enjoyed picnic lunches, couples sprawled across the spongey grass, soaking up the sunshine. The magic of the island could be felt by everyone.
On our way back to the dock we stopped to thank the two caretakers, (and only residents of the island) Chris Taylor and Sharon Whalen, who sat in front of the Sea Wench Naturals headquarters, sipping wine and asking us how we enjoyed our experience. While waiting for the boat to return we chatted with one of the temporary caretakers and peppered him with questions about life on the island. He informed us that their generator runs off solar power and that a sand filtration system provides running water. He also informed us that the island is owned by Susan Bloom, a resident of Salt Spring Island who had recently donated 70% of the property to the Land Conservancy of BC to prevent any future owners of the island from developing or selling of plots. The return to reality was bittersweet and the experience made me curious to learn more...
The Island was originally named Stubbs after Captain Napolean Fits Stubbs who travelled around Vancouver Island in 1861 on the ship Templar. The word Clayoquot comes from clea-o meaning another or different and aht meaning people or village. In 1860 it was established as a trading post and settlement, the first outside of Fort Victoria. In the 1890's it was controlled by the Hudson Bay Company. In 1898 owner Walter Dawley built the first hotel on the coast, when this structure burned to the ground it was replaced by a smaller parlour and beer hall, once again, the first of its kind. In 1937 the island was purchased by Betty Farmer who, along with her sister Jo Brydges, is credited with creating the incredible gardens found there today. Between 1940 and 1990 the island had several owners before being purchased by Bloom.
I feel so much gratitude to have experienced this little piece of Tofino history firsthand and am eager to return next year to explore everything else the island has to offer.
Sources:
Gibson, Ken. "A Brief Story of Clayoquot Preserve on Stubbs Island" About Clayoquot Preserve, Stubbs Island, Tofino BC. GoTofino.com <http://www.gotofino.com/tofinoarticles/stubbsislandclayoquotislandkengibson.html>
Hawthorn, Tom. "Stubbs Island: A Return to Paradise" Tom Hawthorn's Blog. tomhawthorn.blogspot.com <http://tomhawthorn.blogspot.ca/2011/05/stubbs-island-return-to-paradise.html> May 16, 2013.
Westerly News. "Clayoquot Island Now Has Land Conservancy Protection," Canada.com <http://www.canada.com/story.html?id=e7146c5d-e3da-4ab0-b442-34b058db811b> January 31, 2008.
We climbed onto the little water taxi and jetted across the channel with Captain Steve at the helm; within a few minutes we were disembarking onto Stubbs Island. Upon ascending the ramp and seeing this natural wonderland, I felt overwhelmed with a sense of peace. It felt so separate from society despite the fact it was crawling with tourists and that you can see town from shore. There are boardwalks and paths in every which direction, dotted with little driftwood benches and gazebos. Every plant and flower have been immaculately cared for and the beaches were absolutely pristine. All along, huge old growth hemlocks loomed overhead. I can say with certainty that the 2 hours we spent there was not an adequate amount of time to explore the sprawling 130 acres of the island. We explored the boardwalks down to the beach and back up to a large open field where an impromptu croquet tournament took place (along with a quick wheelbarrow race.) All around children ran about and screaming with glee, families enjoyed picnic lunches, couples sprawled across the spongey grass, soaking up the sunshine. The magic of the island could be felt by everyone.
On our way back to the dock we stopped to thank the two caretakers, (and only residents of the island) Chris Taylor and Sharon Whalen, who sat in front of the Sea Wench Naturals headquarters, sipping wine and asking us how we enjoyed our experience. While waiting for the boat to return we chatted with one of the temporary caretakers and peppered him with questions about life on the island. He informed us that their generator runs off solar power and that a sand filtration system provides running water. He also informed us that the island is owned by Susan Bloom, a resident of Salt Spring Island who had recently donated 70% of the property to the Land Conservancy of BC to prevent any future owners of the island from developing or selling of plots. The return to reality was bittersweet and the experience made me curious to learn more...
The Island was originally named Stubbs after Captain Napolean Fits Stubbs who travelled around Vancouver Island in 1861 on the ship Templar. The word Clayoquot comes from clea-o meaning another or different and aht meaning people or village. In 1860 it was established as a trading post and settlement, the first outside of Fort Victoria. In the 1890's it was controlled by the Hudson Bay Company. In 1898 owner Walter Dawley built the first hotel on the coast, when this structure burned to the ground it was replaced by a smaller parlour and beer hall, once again, the first of its kind. In 1937 the island was purchased by Betty Farmer who, along with her sister Jo Brydges, is credited with creating the incredible gardens found there today. Between 1940 and 1990 the island had several owners before being purchased by Bloom.
I feel so much gratitude to have experienced this little piece of Tofino history firsthand and am eager to return next year to explore everything else the island has to offer.
Gibson, Ken. "A Brief Story of Clayoquot Preserve on Stubbs Island" About Clayoquot Preserve, Stubbs Island, Tofino BC. GoTofino.com <http://www.gotofino.com/tofinoarticles/stubbsislandclayoquotislandkengibson.html>
Hawthorn, Tom. "Stubbs Island: A Return to Paradise" Tom Hawthorn's Blog. tomhawthorn.blogspot.com <http://tomhawthorn.blogspot.ca/2011/05/stubbs-island-return-to-paradise.html> May 16, 2013.
Westerly News. "Clayoquot Island Now Has Land Conservancy Protection," Canada.com <http://www.canada.com/story.html?id=e7146c5d-e3da-4ab0-b442-34b058db811b> January 31, 2008.
Thursday, 15 May 2014
Living the Tuff Life
I've been in Tofino just over a month now and every day I wake up with a smile on my face. That's not to say there haven't been tough times, especially when I first got here, but generally I'm consumed with happiness and humility. I still can't believe that everyday I go to work and get to look out at the waves crashing into Cox Bay and when the sun breaks through the clouds and shines onto the shore, the whitewash practically glows. I get to spend the day talking to people who are relaxed and gracious, people who are genuinely interested in where you came from and how you got to be so lucky to live in such a place. When I first told people that I was moving to Tofino, many of them expressed envy and sheepishly admitted they always dreamed of doing the same. Anytime I suggested that they do it, they all gave me paltry excuses, as if living here is a privilege for a chosen few. A couple days ago my brother said in passing, "I should have just moved here straight out of high school" and I can't help but echo his sentiment; I wish I knew about the Tofino life years ago; I wish I took his advice to come out years ago or listened to my mom when she suggested I spend the summer working at a resort. I never headed this advice because I didn't want to leave my friends or rather, step out of my comfort zone. I know now that when you jump head first into the unknown amazing things can happen and I'm not alone in my thinking. People here live life to the fullest, they don't stress about money or having expensive things, they don't care about climbing the corporate ladder, they travel and see the world but always find themselves back in Tofino, because Tofitians get it, they feel it too...
I love all the colours from the vibrant emerald green foliage, to the brilliant azure sky and the cerulean waves. I love that I'm surrounded by trees so tall I feel nearly smothered by their grandeur. I love walking through Vinyl Village and smelling the scent of sun-soaked cedar (admittedly, I also enjoy the tantalizing scents constantly wafting from Tacofino). There are so many things that I love but there are couple that I don't. The first being: Shit is expensive! Food is expensive, liquor is expensive, clothing is expensive. There's no doubt in my mind that the price is worth paying to live in this incredible place, but it all adds up and I can't imagine trying to get by when fall and winter comes and the tourism industry screeches to a halt. Apparently many juggle multiple jobs in the slower months in order to get by.
Another thing I don't love: there is no such thing as a good internet connection. It's hit or miss regardless of where you are or what company you're with. Downloading is excruciating; streaming is next to impossible and results in bandwidth overages which result in ridiculous bills (guess this is goodbye for now Netflix). This is, in fact, a blessing in disguise as there is a plethora of amazing outdoor activities that make watching television shows seem downright blasphemous. That being said on a hungover afternoon during a particularly rainy day I just want to lay in bed and indulge in House of Cards, is that so wrong? There are ways of combating this issue. There are many DVDs in constant circulation, there is a movie rental store with a good selection, and if you complain enough, people will usually be kind enough to take your USB and load it up with their own downloaded treasures (whether these exist from a time before life in Tofino or resulted out of extreme patience, I'm still not sure.)
A couple other things I've noticed:
Surf culture
Sure I expected most people to surf, but I didn't realize that out here it's a lifestyle rather than a hobby. This became glaringly obvious when I first arrived at a staff accom littered with wetsuits, full of boards, plastered with surf photos and stocked to the brim with surf videos and magazines. One of the first questions asked out here is, "Do you surf?" answer yes and it propels you into an entire conversation regarding the best spots, surfers, wind conditions, tides, waves, types of boards, brands of wetsuits, etc. Answer no or not really and the next question is usually "Are you planning to learn?" When I originally envisioned myself living in Tofino I thought I'd go out surfing on a few occasions throughout the summer and on the day of my first lesson I was nervous and hesitant, but within 5 minutes in the water I was hooked. I so badly want to learn, because I want to be a part of it, a part of something bigger, it's not something that one can easily explain.
Tofino Time
People here are laid back. They stop their cars in the middle of the street to chat with a friend, or stop what they're doing at work to catch up with an old acquaintance. Therefore running on "Tofino Time" is a real thing. It's not a matter of inconsideration or rudeness, people just do what feels right at the time. For example, maybe someone said they would attend your party, but the waves were so good and they were in the midst of such an awesome surf they just couldn't stop. By the time they finally got out of the water, biked home, and rinsed out their suit they were starving and decided to make some dinner. Then, their roommate had rented a movie and they sat down and began watching it and just never made it back up again. Rather than text you the entire explanation, they just won't show. You shouldn't take it personally, because plans change and people just go with the flow. Besides, you probably wouldn't have had cell phone service anyway.
I love all the colours from the vibrant emerald green foliage, to the brilliant azure sky and the cerulean waves. I love that I'm surrounded by trees so tall I feel nearly smothered by their grandeur. I love walking through Vinyl Village and smelling the scent of sun-soaked cedar (admittedly, I also enjoy the tantalizing scents constantly wafting from Tacofino). There are so many things that I love but there are couple that I don't. The first being: Shit is expensive! Food is expensive, liquor is expensive, clothing is expensive. There's no doubt in my mind that the price is worth paying to live in this incredible place, but it all adds up and I can't imagine trying to get by when fall and winter comes and the tourism industry screeches to a halt. Apparently many juggle multiple jobs in the slower months in order to get by.
Another thing I don't love: there is no such thing as a good internet connection. It's hit or miss regardless of where you are or what company you're with. Downloading is excruciating; streaming is next to impossible and results in bandwidth overages which result in ridiculous bills (guess this is goodbye for now Netflix). This is, in fact, a blessing in disguise as there is a plethora of amazing outdoor activities that make watching television shows seem downright blasphemous. That being said on a hungover afternoon during a particularly rainy day I just want to lay in bed and indulge in House of Cards, is that so wrong? There are ways of combating this issue. There are many DVDs in constant circulation, there is a movie rental store with a good selection, and if you complain enough, people will usually be kind enough to take your USB and load it up with their own downloaded treasures (whether these exist from a time before life in Tofino or resulted out of extreme patience, I'm still not sure.)
A couple other things I've noticed:
Surf culture
Sure I expected most people to surf, but I didn't realize that out here it's a lifestyle rather than a hobby. This became glaringly obvious when I first arrived at a staff accom littered with wetsuits, full of boards, plastered with surf photos and stocked to the brim with surf videos and magazines. One of the first questions asked out here is, "Do you surf?" answer yes and it propels you into an entire conversation regarding the best spots, surfers, wind conditions, tides, waves, types of boards, brands of wetsuits, etc. Answer no or not really and the next question is usually "Are you planning to learn?" When I originally envisioned myself living in Tofino I thought I'd go out surfing on a few occasions throughout the summer and on the day of my first lesson I was nervous and hesitant, but within 5 minutes in the water I was hooked. I so badly want to learn, because I want to be a part of it, a part of something bigger, it's not something that one can easily explain.
Tofino Time
People here are laid back. They stop their cars in the middle of the street to chat with a friend, or stop what they're doing at work to catch up with an old acquaintance. Therefore running on "Tofino Time" is a real thing. It's not a matter of inconsideration or rudeness, people just do what feels right at the time. For example, maybe someone said they would attend your party, but the waves were so good and they were in the midst of such an awesome surf they just couldn't stop. By the time they finally got out of the water, biked home, and rinsed out their suit they were starving and decided to make some dinner. Then, their roommate had rented a movie and they sat down and began watching it and just never made it back up again. Rather than text you the entire explanation, they just won't show. You shouldn't take it personally, because plans change and people just go with the flow. Besides, you probably wouldn't have had cell phone service anyway.
image from GoTofino.com
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