It was not until I sat down at my gate that I felt my legs start bouncing up and down, a habit of mine that I would get yelled at for when I was growing up. I looked down at the Lonely Planet guidebook sat in my lap.
A series of text messages to my family and an overload of Instagram and Facebook posts ensued:
“Waaaaaaaiiiiit! I am going to New Zealanddddddddddddd!!!!”
I boarded the plane and fought the sleep that was creeping up on me. I needed to be awake for this flight. I wanted to be awake for when I flew into Queenstown.
And it actually brought me to tears – a mixture of pure exhaustion, adrenaline, sadness and accomplishment.
My landing in Queenstown was the most beautiful descent of all time. This right here was my bucket list – it was happening. I have been dreaming of New Zealand for years and years, and finally here it was and slowly revealing itself to me.
The clouds were strong and thick at first but eventually gave way to snow-capped mountains, the clouds circling them like halos. It felt like a game of hide and seek – little by little more and more mountain tops rose up from underneath the blanket of clouds. They looked like the spikes along the back of a dinosaur. Mixed in the crevices were bodies of water that were this illuminated mint-green, a color I had never seen before.
Holy shit. I repeated it to myself over and over. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
Slowly the jagged, snow-capped mountains became these tanned-earth mountains that looked like sandcastles. Trails zigzagged through them like snakes.
Sky diving here is going to be amazing.
The Queenstown airport is one of the smaller airports I have been to. We walked across the tarmac on through to baggage claim and customs. Just like Australia, there were dogs running along the conveyor belts, sniffing each bag and running amongst the crowds to make sure no one was bringing in anything illegal or suspicious. Of course my bags were checked just like they were when I got back in to Sydney. And once again, it was because of food. I forgot to admit I had peanut butter buried in my bag somewhere. Whoops. Sorry, New Zealand.
I grabbed a ticket for Connectabus – the local bus – for 8 dollars, and it was only about a 15 minute drive into town. I had yet to book accommodation but had no issues in strolling around to Nomads Backpacker hostel and booking a bed for the night – aside from the price of it.
29 dollars for a 10 bedroom dorm! I have not paid that much for a dorm bed since traveling Europe in 2007. In Asia, 12 dollars was an absolute splurge where you got the works – hot water, your own bathroom, shower and air con. Those were the nights we treated ourselves from life on the road.
Realizing that 29 dollars on a dorm bed in New Zealand was the least of my expenditure worries, I made my way to my room.
I felt almost uncomfortable at first – so out of my element. It has been two years since my last backpacking trip.
How did this work again? Just introduce yourself? Wait for someone to talk to you?
Luckily upon getting in to my room I met an Irish kid named Leighton who was outgoing right from the start. Easy introduction, easy, open and good conversation, and within an hour we were off making dinner together (obviously my contributions to this meal were mostly stirring things that needed stirring). Leighton had been living in Australia for a while as well, but he was managing a restaurant down in Melbourne and now looking for work in NZ.
“You should just stay for the ski season. I am. Never been skiing before in my life,” he said.
Suddenly it seemed like a good idea. Yea, maybe. I do not really have any plan at the moment. I just today – when I landed – found out that Australia…well I was waiting to hear back about a sponsorship opportunity. I had an interview with this newspaper the Daily Mail on Friday morning and thought maybe they could sponsor me to come back, but I did not get the job.
Last week I wrote about an opportunity that had arisen out of no where, and that was my interview with the Daily Mail Sydney that I had last Friday morning. I received a call from them Thursday afternoon and was in first thing in the morning for an interview. Though it felt like I had nothing to lose, at the same time it felt like my life in Sydney was on the line.
I am not so much gutted about not getting the job as I am about losing the opportunity to live and work in Sydney again. I wanted the chance to be responsible for my own life there and I wanted to be the one to decide when it was time for me and best for me to leave.
But regardless, Leighton and I enjoyed a meal of what turned out to be some delicious noodles that were soaked in soy, garlic, onions and ginger – though they looked sort of like a bowl of canteen slosh that had been sitting out unattended for days.
I remembered why it was that I liked backpacking so much – a delicate formula based on the people you meet, the cities you wander and the cultures you encounter.
