A South Pacific Adventure

I am sorry for having taken a hiatus. I love writing, and sharing this beautiful adventure with you has continued to be a rewarding and beautiful if not moderately challenging endeavor. It did not take a toll, but it did become harder. Not harder in the sense of wanting to quit, but harder in the sense that I almost felt like I was sounding redundant and being too critical of my own writing, like the writing itself wasn’t good enough. So much so that I over thought a lot of it and didn’t want to post. Also I am just staying busy giving myself every opportunity I can. I am a traveller and a story teller and I love that about myself, but sometimes the hardest part about being those things is collecting your thoughts and making sure they are conveyed on the page the way I want  them to be. I have rewritten my post about the Milford track 3 times. I still do not think it showcases the track in a light that does it justice. So, after today and tomorrow the blog will be all caught up. I...

Checkout was at 10 and I had made one mistake in my calculations the day before. I knew I would be coming back to queenstown but I had yet to book a room anywhere, or figured out what to do with the rest of my clothes while I was hiking. The hostel I stayed in for the one night was a little too center of town for me. The atmosphere had a “kids out of school on wild vacation” feel rather than a quiet backpacker kind of place. I grabbed my stuff and found a place on the edge of town that was a fair price and asked them if they had a bag room I could lock some stuff up in while I went on a hike for a couple of days. They said yes so I booked and I was ready to go.  Bus pickup was at 1 and to conserve funds the only other thing i purchased while in town was an extra bottle of water so I could carry a little more while on the track. Got all my stuff organized and made some calls home then I waited. when I got picked up and we started driving out of town, I made it all of about 15 m...

I think I’m gonna like Queenstown. My bus driver into town is blaring music and has the look of a bearded biker gang member. After everyone makes it on the bus, he turns the music up a little louder and steps out to have a smoke.Yeah definitely gonna like this place.  Queenstown itself feels small. But as we ride in it is apparent there is a lot of different demographics of people visiting this place. 5 doors down from a outdoor shop is a Luis Vuitton. The boardwalk has hikers, tourists, wealthy visitors, and student looking persons alike. It feels like a cross between a sleepy mountain town, with a little bit of night life, splashed with a casino, that exists solely for the tourists and adventure seekers. When I flew in at noon I had a very specific list of things I needed to get accomplished. So I am just gonna list out what those things are and then elaborate as needed.  Book hostel - I needed a place to stay for the night.  Pickup shelter tickets for ...

It’s 2:40 am. The airport opens at 4. I’m rolling back over. I assume    employees are starting to arrive. The door that I have foolishly camped near seems to be opening and slamming closed more frequently now. 3am rolls around and I am up. I get dressed in my tent and greet the employees that walk past me with quizzical looks. Since I look homeless, I may as well try to come off as a friendly homeless person.  4am. The airport is open now. I make my way to the men’s room to get what I can only in loose terminology describe as a wash. Brush teeth. Fill water bottles. I get to the check in point and I have a problem. My bag is too heavy. Scratch that. Both my bags are too heavy. I have never encountered a company that has a weight limit on carry on bags. I get a trash can and start throwing out stuff. All my candy and some food, gone. A couple guide books, gone. And now for the fun part. Being I have a lot of hiker clothes in my bag the easiest way to cut more weight ...

So throughout my time in Sydney I have been helped by the workers at the hostel I have been staying in. The Jolly Swagman backpacker hostel(never get tired of saying that outrageous name). They have been nice enough to allow me to prod them with questions about the city and just genuinely give me help or advice when I ask for it. Between the employees I have met there is Sam, Joe, Adrianna, and Ark(no idea if I’m spelling this right). Adrianna and Sam have definitely had to put up with me more than anyone this week and I am immensely grateful for their help. If I were ever to return to this hostel, I would be excited to see either of them if they were still there. Sam is a hilariously energetic Man with a knack for food and wine that brings his dog to work every day. No matter how hard I tried, that dog does not give a rats that I ever came through the door. Always quick witted, he was always an interesting person to talk to and get an option from when it came to just about anything. ...

Let me just say, I said I went to sleep at 10 the day before.. that was a lie. I slept for like an hour and then some ruckus in the common room caused me to get up and find a birthday celebration with free home made cake. It was carrot cake. The frosting was home made cream cheese. Not that I’m a starving backpacker, but I am not above looking desperate for some home made cake. Also happy birthday to.... Kate?  5:50am rolled around too quickly. With cake and birthday shenanigans I was still in bed well before midnight. My bunk is still a summer camp slab of springs and metal bars. The only difference is that I know that my jet lag is still taking a toll on me waking up early. But this morning there was an extra something added to the “cant sleep” cocktail. My bunk mates had at some point the day before opened the window. No worries. Little airflow to empty out the hiker funk and so one of them could smoke out the window. They however did not close the window. Some time just be...