Day 121 - Trees Everywhere

Trees are the backdrop for life, especially in New Zealand. I was continually fascinated by all of the trees here. There are so many different species and they make New Zealand so beautiful and diverse. The words below are not mine but a poem I found to be fitting with how I feel about the trees in this country. I spent so much time passing by forests full of incredible trees, hiking among them, using them for shelter and shade. They left me continually in awe. 

"For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely person. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the worlds rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only; to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk; in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and revel the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homewards, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness."

- Hermann Hesse, Baume (Trees)

Day 106 - Left To My Own Devices

Anyone who knows me has heard my many stories of my wanderings and adventures going slightly awry and not as expected. The possibilities are endless for misadventures when I am left to my own devices. These misadventures are a part of me and have become moments that I, for the most part, look back with great fondness. 

After parting ways with my German friend, I began my solo adventure further into the Coromandel, where I spent a night at a beach side campsite, Tapu. I stopped on my way to the campsite to chill on the beach and watch the night sky and this happened...I was even using a flashlight and still stepped in a massive mud pit. This is what happens when I am on my own and left to my own devices. 

I decided to take a drive further up the Coromandel, found a few lovely views along the way, but it was just not the same travelling alone after all my time spent with a travel buddy. My desire to explore and continue on the adventure started to wain and I made the decision to turn back around and head down south to be with my friend and her daughter in Wellington. So here started my solo journey back down south. 

I made it a bit of a mission to just get back on the road and drive south without making too many stops since I had travelled this area quite a few times. I decided to go west and ended up in Whanganui. I was checking out a market that I had heard about so wandered down along the water, checked out the shops and enjoyed the sunshine for a while. Walking back to my car, I saw a note on under the wiper on my windshield that read, "you have a flat tire....don't drive off!". Upon inspection, I did in fact have a flat tire. I appreciated the note but was very discouraged about the tire since it was early evening on a Friday meaning all the shops would be closed until Monday. So here began my adventure of the flat tire. Now typically, changing a flat is not all the difficult. However, without the proper tools it is very difficult. Turns out I only had part of the tool that takes the lug nuts off. Which I only figured out after I jacked the car up. So being the thrifty human I am, I tried a number of things, including a spoon and fork until I decided to give up and start asking people for a proper tire iron. I asked about 4 people before I found someone who actually had one in their car. He was so kind, even offered to help me with his 3 children hanging off of him. I declined the help and said I would just appreciate the tire iron and would leave it in his car when I was done with it. 

With the tire changed I made my way to the library to use the internet to figure where I would stay for the night. And it just so happened that my kiwi friend was at the very same library. I shared my conundrum with him. He immediately was on the phone and within minutes I was following him to his friends house who had an airbnb in her backyard, where she ended up letting me stay for the whole weekend in trade for some brewkies and good company. It was a lovely weekend spent chatting about life, sharing stories of travel and enjoying the energy of her kids running around the backyard. Another moment in life to appreciate the kindness of strangers. 

Monday came. I said my farewells to my new found friends and made my way to the tire shop. After the unexpected delay and purchase of a new tire I got back on the road with just enough time to see a colour therapist my friend had told me about. I was intrigued by her story of this man so my curiosity got the best of me and I stopped by his house for a colour reading before I left town. This was a very interesting experience. This man was one of those people who had travelled the world and met incredible people in each country, taking knowledge and learning traditional practices from each encounter and bringing it all back to his home in New Zealand. It was definitely one of those experiences that was meant to be. I love learning about different cultures and practices of healing. It is always a mind opening experience. 

Back on the open road this was my home for only 3 hours more. I stopped along the way and picked up some delicious berries and stopped at a quilt shop to pick up some absolutely beautiful New Zealand made fabric prints. 

Arriving in Wellington, I bid farewell to the open roads of New Zealand and contented myself to enjoy my last few weeks in the windy city with my dearest friend and her daughter. 

This is the start of a whole new adventure. 

Day 102- The End of the Epic Adventure of the Canadian and German Travelling NZ

After driving north to spend the night on the coast in Te Kauwhata for a night of relaxing and fun along the Coromandel Peninsula. After what would be our last pancake breakfast together, we drove to the southwestern end of the peninsula to Thames. A small town with a library where my my German friend could solidify his plans for Vietnam. I was so tempted to tag along with him but, alas, I did not. Probably a choice I would eventually regret but that is okay. 

Regrets teach you lessons for next time.  

After a short drive to Auckland, and a quick lunch break at a viewpoint just outside the airport, we sat eating and enjoying each others company before my friends flight left for Vietnam. Sitting watching and listening to the roar of the planes overhead was very bitter sweet. Adventure was calling my friends name and he absolutely had to go.

 

It is difficult to accurately describe the experience of meeting a stranger while travelling, bonding with them in a certain way that makes you feel immediately safe around them...enabling you to trust them and travel around a country with them for months, sharing space, however big or small, sharing food, stories, incredible moments....moments of awe, happiness, sadness, struggle...moments of strength, weakness and vulnerability. Until you have had this experience you will never be able to understand the bond that is created between two humans who did not even know each other existed until they met on a foreign land and decided to adventure together. It is a truly special experience that I hope everyone in their own way gets to experience at one point in their life. I feel truly fortunate and blessed to have been in the same hostel room in my first two weeks in country with my dear German friend. To have spent enough time with each other in Paihia to realize that we wouldn't mind travelling with each other. And to have made the decision to meet back up after parting ways, to hike the Tongariro Crossing and continue on adventuring together. Which was the start of our trip in our wee, very touristy, rickety station wagon. Meeting new friends along the way from all over the world. Trying to avoid hitting hedgehogs and possums...and keeping the kea birds from eating our car and stealing our cooking supplies.  Teaching each other our native languages along the way. Blasting German tunes as we drove along the winding roads. Happy to drive 80 km/hr down the New Zealand highways, sometimes slower, especially on the roads with vertical drops offs, no shoulders and only little wooden guard rails to catch your fall....no rush, no care in the world, taking in every sight and place that we possibly could. Pure bliss is what it was...in one of the most diverse and beautiful countries I have been to yet. I would not trade any moment of this adventure for anything.

Day 100 - Hobbitan

Next on our East coast blitz was Matamata where the shire resides. We drove there, could not find an open free campsite so ended up camping on the roadside. It was actually kind of nice. Little did we know we were literally only a couple kms away from the shire at that time. We did not find this out until later when we got on the tourist bus that would take us to the shire and we drove past where we slept. We spent the day in Matamata, and found the coolest Op Shop. I bought a beautiful 80's style low lawn chair. It completely cooking time by the wagon at night. It was perfect and only a couple of dollars. I don't recall if I have talked about Op Shops but they were some of the best places I went to in New Zealand. An Op Shop is a second hand store and New Zealand legitimately has the best stuff out there. I would move to New Zealand just to furnish a house with amazing things I have found in second hand stores. So after a lovely day wandering Matamata, we boarded a tourist bus and made our way to Hobbitan. Seriously, the view of the rolling green hills, covered in sheep, with wind blown trees on our way to Hobbitan was absolutely beautiful. This country continually takes my breath away and sometimes I do not even understand how it can be so beautiful. And now for a whole wack of pictures because there are no words necessary for the rest....