|
february 28, 2001
I love how the world can continually astonish me. I come to a place that I can sit and stare at for hours and think that there is nowhere else in New Zealand that could compare and, two days later, I find that other place. I also love the fact that much of the beauty that is here has to be worked for. I spent the last two days kayaking on Doubtful Sound in Fiordland. My arms and upper back are aching and all the bits of exposed flesh are covered in bites from the literal swarms of sandflies (really only the backs of my hands while kayaking). But it was worth it. If you need to realize how small you actually are on this planet, kayaking among enormous fiords will definitely help. We even had four bottlenose dolphins swim under our kayaks and, in the morning as I waved off the sandflies swarming my head, I saw a sole seal swimming past in the calm waters.
Similarly, last week I hiked up the Copland Valley on an overnight hike. For most of the way, as I battled mud, rocks, rivers and an active landslide area, I was utterly alone and was rewarded at the end with a beautiful valley with natural hot pools. The hut at the top was a trifle crowded so, for dinner, I packed my food up and headed up the valley for a solo picnic. Those of you who know me may have noticed that I have a lot of trouble with patience and slowing myself down. That night, I made myself sit there until the sun had lifted off the valley floor and I was completely in shadows. It was rewarding in a cliche kind of way, with the last of the sun glowing on the snow on the mountain peaks. I felt like I was sitting in a postcard.
posted by tina 2/28/2001 11:08:13 AM
february 24, 2001
I was hiking the Queen Charlotte Track last week with an Austrian guy. He was by all accounts a very normal person. He was thirtysomething, a high-school teacher back home and was on sabbatical for a year to travel around the world. He also was incredibly obsessive about taking really good photographs. Now, the Queen Charlotte Walkway runs along the Marlborough Sounds which are very beautiful. The hike, while very lovely, does not provide a walker with hundreds of fabulous viewpoints. At the first viewpoint, Mr. Austrian man decided that he would not take a photo because he didn't want to waste film on what might not be a spectacularly stupendous photograph. As the day progressed, however, it became increasingly clear that a similar panaromic opportunity would not arise again. As he became aware of this fact, his enthusiasm and conversation waned dramatically. By the end of the day, he had completely ceased talking and lapsed into a full-scale pout. Can you imagine a thirtysomething Austrian man in a full pout? Well, you don't want to have to see it, especially when it's over something so completely stupid. Too many people here are living their travels through their cameras. I love photography and I leave it to those who can take photos with some skill. But there are too many people out there with video cameras (these people are really the worst - I saw this one Dutch guy filming our campsite for about fifteen minutes one night and then he was at it again in the morning) or other cameras who forget to look at the world through something other than their many different lenses.
Anyhow, today I am in Wanaka and I hiked up Mt. Roy which gave wonderful views around Lake Wanaka and onwards to Mt. Aspiring. The only problem is that the track cut through farmer's fields and I had to walk past cows and sheep. I hate to admit it but I am a city girl at heart and, for some stupid reason, cows kind of freak me out. So there I was winding along a switchback, when I came around the corner and found myself face to face with two big slow cows. I stood there for a moment and literally considered whether or not I should just turn around and go back. One of the cows stared at me for awhile, deemed me as not a threat and went back to grazing. I still stood there like a doorknob. Finally, I kind of cut across some steep pasture to the next switchback, my heart pounding in my ears, trying to tell my body to calm down. The cow kept staring at me and I actually thought about what my possible escape route might be, in case the cow decided to run at me to attack. Yes, I sincerely feared the attack of the killer cow. I passed by without incident but under the keen watch of nearby sheep, which don't scare me unless they are in a very large group.
Ah, New Zealand, home of killer farm animals.
Tomorrow I head to Te Anau and am off for two days of kayaking on Doubtful Sound. And that concludes the bragging portion of this post.
posted by tina 2/24/2001 03:00:05 PM
february 22, 2001
From my wise friend, Alex, with whom I traveled in China:
"Maybe people travel because it makes them feel balanced. It's easy to find equilibrium when moving, something like a bicycle. Only a few people end up learning about themselves while traveling; the other ones are too busy imagining themselves."
Anyhow, isn't it always the way that, as soon as I complain about something, I am proved wrong a thousand times? I've been meeting interesting and intelligent people left right and centre over the past few days. I should keep my mouth shut a bit more. Think before acting and all that.
I'm in Makarora in Mt. Aspiring National Park (is that a great name for a park or what?). I'll be in Wanaka for the next two nights and will probably post something a bit more substantial then. I love this country. The end.
posted by tina 2/22/2001 01:47:25 PM
february 18, 2001
Well, that last post was pretty snarky of me wasn't it? The day after writing that entry, I promptly met several interesting and intelligent people. My gripe has not been entirely disproved though. Last night over pizza with the bus driver and a few other people, the driver was trying to convince me that there is this entire subcategory of "office people" who are mundane and boring and unable to communicate effectively with a wide range of people. They are not creative and really are a waste of space. According to him, there is also this other group of "travelers" who are far more flexible and creative and interesting in a struggling artist kind of way.
What a load of crap. First of all, most of the conversations that travelers have are only interesting because their lives at the moment are constantly changing and moving. They mostly only talk about where they have been, where they are going and that they would like to do. It's all about swapping travel stories and bragging about who has done what. Of course conversation doesn't lag when there is always some travel thing to talk about. And secondly, most of the people who are traveling aren't struggling that hard. The majority of them are white upper to middle class people who can afford to buy a plane ticket and support them for several months of travel (I'm not excluding myself here really).
Anyhow, I'm out of time here at the internet place; I just wanted to add those two bits. I did an insane hike today up over the Franz Josef glacier and my legs feel as if they are made of lead. I've been doing so much hiking that there has hardly been a day that my legs aren't aching from previous exertions. It's a good feeling though. And I still might try out this rock climbing wall tonight. A guy from Vancouver who is here guiding glacier walks said he could show me how, seeing as I am a first timer.
posted by tina 2/18/2001 01:21:02 PM
february 16, 2001
I'm beginning to wonder why people travel - what motivates them, what drives them in such a situation. The reason I have been thinking about this is that so many of the people that I meet seem very empty. There seems to be this impression that people who have traveled a great deal are more worldly or have some kind of insight into the world and human nature than others who remain rooted in a single place (read this though - the first quote). There are travelers here who seldom leave the bars in the night, spend the following day recovering from their hangovers, and seem limited to racing around the country as fast as they can. They talk shit every night and rehash banality after banality in all their conversations. It has reached a point where I am actually surprised when I meet someone who has interesting things to talk about or has read a book that is not by Tom Clancy or Sidney Sheldon. This saddens me for, while I do think it is important to meet people from all walks of life and from different backgrounds, it is profoundly frustrating to meet so many caricatures of the most boring people on the planet.
I am also wondering whether or not I came to New Zealand and Australia at the wrong time in my life. I met a couple of Irish guys in Nelson with whom I had a good time (talking shit over beer can still be a good time once in awhile). However, alcohol seemed to play a big role in their activities here in New Zealand. When I jokingly talked about how people were often hooking up with others while here, one of them explained that he had already had in the previous two and a half weeks, "one ride and four kisses". I looked at the other and he explained that he had already had, and I quote, "two gallops." This kind of thing, while not completely out of my realm of understanding, coincides with having had to fend off a fair number of passes - some welcome, most unwelcome - and makes me wonder if this is the wrong place to be doing this. Four years ago, perhaps it would have been more welcome but not now.
Then there are moments when I realize that I am in exactly the right place. I went for a bushwalk around Paparoa National Park this morning, on my own. I came off the trail muddy, sweaty and absolutely happy. Similarly, while in Abel Tasman National Park a few days ago, I camped on my own after a day of sea kayaking and hiked on the following day without once feeling lonely. Maybe it doesn't really matter much where I am. I'll probably discover that the things that I am looking for are just down the road from the house I've lived in all my life.
Patriotism can be a fine thing in measured amounts but when you are the only nation from which travelers overtly display their nationality, everyone else snickers behind your back. There is a hostel in Rotorua that will provide a free night of accommodation to any Canadian traveling without a flag on their pack. I used to have the flag but, while I was traveling in China two years ago, I used my knife and tore it off. People here are consistently surprised when I tell them that I am Canadian yet I don't have the flag. Many people assume I am American, not because of the accent, but because I am one of the few Canadians who don't display my nationality so visibly. While I explain to others the reasoning for Canadians doing such a thing - primarily to identiy themselves as not being American - I am increasingly realizing how silly and rather unfortunate it is that we are the only nation that does it. I am very proud of who I am and where I come from and I will tell anyone who asks but I don't see the need to shout it out to everyone else around me. I understand that international attitudes towards Americans are not particularly favourable but it just takes a moment to ask. If someone is going to make an assumption about who they think I am because of my nationality, they aren't really worth taking the time with anyhow.
Finally, I am tired of people questioning me as to why I "don't look Canadian." What exactly does a Canadian look like? I used to let this slip by when someone questioned me but now I don't let it go so easily. My mom may have been born in China but she has now been in Canada longer than she was ever in Asia. She is more proud of being a Canadian than many other people I know who were born in Canada. I don't think her racial background makes her any less of a Canadian. So when people say that I am half-Chinese and half-Canadian, I patiently assert that I am completely Canadian and so is my mother. The difference is in our ethnicity. I don't think that I should allow people to propagate the perception of Canada as a great white homogenous nation. I'm still surprised when I hear seemingly educated people making the same comments. Perhaps I am a touch too politically correct?
Tomorrow I will go down to the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers and then an overnight trek to some thermal hot pools. I have re-discovered the great outdoors since arriving in New Zealand.
posted by tina 2/16/2001 06:24:49 PM
february 8, 2001
The tour guide explained that one of the dilemmas of social documentary photography is creating objects of beauty out of what is often human misery.
"This is a beautifully composed photograph," he explained.
We are looking at the back and shoulders of an emaciated child, leaning over a fence, his mother's hand at his neck. It is a stark black and white photograph, and the play of light reflects dully off the burnished black skin covering his skeletal back.
"I find it so difficult to look at this kind of thing, " says one woman as she turns her back on the photograph. She sidles away, heels scuffling along the hardwood floor.
Ten minutes later, I hear her talking about what she will have for her lunch.
posted by tina 2/8/2001 07:25:33 AM
february 6, 2001
I never thought it would be possible to love another country so much. Maybe I'm just in the initial stages of culture shock I've been warned I will experience. I've been in New Zealand for just under three weeks and I can't get enough. My departure date has already been pushed back a week and I will be pushing it back for yet another week so that I get enough time on the South Island. So many people who I have met here have tagged this country on as an addition to their Australian working holidays (I did it too) and I am discovering that this is a big mistake. This country deserves a serious separate look all by itself. Rolling along in the bus today from Turangi to Wellington, I could hardly keep from smiling out the windows.
I have just spent the last week punishing my body in various ways. First, I did the Tongariro Crossing with an English guy I met. He and I are both quite competitive and were determined to remain in front of all the other hikers. As a result, we blazed along the trail. The Crossing was amazing. If you have ever wondered what walking on the moon would be like, this is about as close as you can get.
Two days later, I hired a guide (I splurge when I travel) and paddled a canoe for three days down the Whanganui River. That trip has so far been one of the best experiences of my time in New Zealand. My upper back and arms are screaming at me today but, for the last three days, I have had the utterly rewarding experience of being very dirty and extremely exhausted - particularly after one mammoth day of nine hours hard paddling - knowing that I traveled big distances on my own power. The Whanganui is an extremely isolated river, miles and miles away from civilization and once you put in at Whakahoro, there is no turning back for 90 kilometres. I learned to read the water in the rapids and I caught my first fish ever (okay, so it was a small trout but it tasted good). For two nights, my guide and I were the only two people at the campsites along the river. It felt incredibly satisfying to be so far away from everything. I'm looking forward to more outdoor pursuits in the near future. I have some more hiking and kayaking coming up in the next few weeks.
I expected to miss home more than I do. Although travel is a totally immersive experience and there are always things going on, I really expected that I would still feel pangs of homesickness. So far, there has been absolutely nothing. I think this may be because of the slump I was in the for few months prior to leaving. I was very unhappy with the way things were going before I left and I could hardly wait to get away. Other than the important people in my life, there really isn't that much to miss. And, with all due respect to my friends and family who I love very much, this trip is in part to remove myself from them for awhile. I've mentioned this previously but I think that it's more than just getting out of my comfort zone. It really is for me to be solitary and able to consider things alone without interruption, something that I have been profoundly enjoying over the past weeks. My parents are actually coming out to New Zealand and Australia in the coming weeks and, to be absolutely horribly honest, I am not looking that forward to seeing them for even the short time that we will be together (probably a few days). It's too soon for me to be reconnecting with people from back home. I'll probably still be happy to see them though.
I'll be in Wellington for a few days and then it's off to the South Island for the Queen Charlotte Walkway and Abel Tasman National Park.
posted by tina 2/6/2001 04:14:01 PM
|
