Well, well, it's Wellington!

As my friend/surrogate father, Jon, put it, "When you are left without options learning and change happen pretty quickly. That's what traveling does... It puts you in a situation where you have no other option but to adapt."

Since I am heading home soon, I made the trip down to Wellington to see people who have left quite an impression on me since I have been in New Zealand. It's funny how one city can hold almost all of the people I have grown to love in my short time here. Everything in traveling is accelerated and the bonds I have formed with these families and friends will be everlasting.

So after three great weeks of working and learning in the hippy, surfer town of Raglan, I said goodbye and bussed it down to Wellington to see loved ones. On the InterCity bus route from Hamilton to Wellington I realized this was the second time I had taken this very ride. The first journey felt like it was years ago...

My first trip took place during my second week in NZ when I was escaping an anti-American Kiwi host in Te Mata. This woman was mildly mental and trying to pull me into a bizarre power struggle I couldn't win. (I was staying in her house so had to grit my teeth and figure out where to run.) Emotionally exhausted and completely vulnerable I took the easy route and fled to a familiar face (my first friend in NZ, Euan) in Wellington. Bad habits are hard to break and I was repeating a pattern I have many times before: leaning when someone lets me and sticking with the familiar. If my former self had been sitting next to me on this bus trip I would have likely found her annoying and given a monologue-worthy lecture.

Regretfully my former self was not seated next to me, yet I was still rather annoyed. A tiny, bald Brit (Why are all the Brits I meet always so small?) with huge headphones was reclined next to me. Out of his phones the shrill, screaming voice of Steven Tyler was seeping into my ear space. How he was listening to music that loud with a relaxed face and closed eyes was baffling to me. Especially Aerosmith, I mean, come on my man! My frustration was only growing because due to effing Steven Tyler I could no longer hear the whistling man who had been sharing the bus with me during the whole trip. I never did get to see the lips those beautiful tones were flowing out of, but he had me captivated the entire bus ride. He could whistle anything including "I Love the Nightlife" and he even made a Lady Gaga song pleasing to my buds. Dear whistling man: "Although I never saw your face, I think I love you." It sounds crazy, I know but love is never rational. Think about all the men in the world who fall in love with a woman's fake breasts. At least the whistler has a God-given talent. Relationships have been built on lesser things, trust me.

Dis friggin' guy and his Aerosmith (my attempt at typing a Boston accent)

Getting back to my wandering mind on the InterCity: This case of déjà vu was pretty trippy... The first time I arrived in Wellington to meet up with Euan he was at a concert. Since he could not meet me when I got off the bus at the train station, he told me to "head into town." Unfortunately these were not clear directions since when I walked out onto the busy, city streets it looked like I was IN town. So I timidly slunk back into the train station to enjoy the architecture and my book. This lasted about thirty minutes. While into one of Thoreau's rants, I had a shiver come over me and looked up to see a man in cut-off shorts and blood-shot eyes lingering, staring, and smiling. After I stared back without a smile, he didn't flinch. So my next tactic was to run, or more realistically: gather my things, get up, and walk away. He followed. My stomach rose to my throat in shear panic. Just as I was about to throw my bags at him and break out into tears a woman who worked at the train station walked over and asked if I was okay. I responded, "I don't know" in a shaky voice. She looked behind me at the crazy man and said, "Come this way." I was led back to the security office, behind what I like to think was bullet-proof glass, and seated next to an enormous Samoan security guard to wait for Euan. After realizing what had just happened I couldn't help but feel mortified at the fact that I, a 25 year-old adult, was treated like a lost 12 year-old, separated from their parents. Upon Euan's arrival to pick me up, the embarrassment only grew until he said it looked like I was getting V.I.P. treatment with a chuckle. It was sweet of him to help me save face, but I knew what we were both thinking. Oy vey.

My second trip -- much less eventful. I got off the InterCity, found my bus and rode up to my friend's house. No questions asked. I know the city now and even if the man in cut-off shorts had been waiting for me at the station a second time, I would have likely started chatting with him, having a genuine interest in his craziness.

Jon was right, when you are left without options, you do adapt quickly. If you're a slow learner, get used to being humiliated and treated like a child. That is, if you're lucky enough to be in a country where people actually care about your well-being. The Kiwi kindness is certainly a rarity in this world. As liberating as adaptation may be, traveling doesn't let you revel in your confidence for long. If you're a devoted traveler your surroundings are always changing and hitting the road to a new world, new city, new people is a given. This world is too vast to only stay in your comfort zone. Plus I've never heard of any adventures that can occur while seated on a couch.

Gypsies, tramps, and thieves

As a Cambodian cafe owner said to me while I was ordering a flat white in Napier, "The world is round you know, the world is round. You have to get out there and see it, you must!"

My original plan when I came to New Zealand was to exploit (for lack of a better term) what the Kiwis are doing to live a more sustainable existence. Through my research, WWOOFing, and interviews I have learned more than I expected as far as living a more sustainable lifestyle (these details I am saving for my documentary, which was the original purpose for me coming to Aotearoa a.k.a. New Zealand). But on top of the environmental lessons this country has given me, I have grown as a person and a traveler...

Living out of a suitcase for months at a time is not for everyone. Being on your own and having only yourself to rely on is not for everyone. Questioning where you are going to sleep at any given night definitely is not for the faint of heart. What I have found is I quite like the transient lifestyle. My mind that used to be cluttered with loads of useless nonsense and worries has been opened to one thing while on the road: survival. A bit dramatic, I know but it's also true. When you are focused on the fundamentals in life, that is surviving. I can't begin to tell you all the things I've done and witnessed in this one post, but what I can tell you is what this country has shown me about myself and the world.

For starters I have come realize my old life back home was beyond excessive. Why anyone needs 50+ pairs of shoes in their closet is a mystery in itself and yet that's what I became accustomed to in the States. Here, I have been working and traveling with four pairs, which is still a bit much. Another aspect is the idea of living space. In the States, my fiance and I shared a roomy two bedroom cottage. In New Zealand, I have gone from living in a car (literally, I lived in a car) to just having a bunk bed available and that's it. In fact, while living in the car I hiked 17 km just to be able to lay flat on my back. This fully reclined position was available in a hut where I slept with about 40 strangers next to me, sharing the mattresses that spread across the floor. The whole time I was walking the track to the hut, I couldn't help but wonder what the world would be like if you always had to put in that much effort just for a bed (it wasn't even a bed, it was a mattress on a hardwood floor). To branch off of the living space... Travelers never really have their OWN space. You are always at the mercy of others and always infiltrating people's homes and lives. The hosts I have had, for the most part, have welcomed me into their homes with open arms. Before I came here I would have never even considered letting a perfect stranger stay in my house, let alone be a welcoming host. Seriously, they don't call it "Kiwi hospitality" for nothing. This is a real phenomenon and it's happening everyday right here in NZ! If any of this sounds like a struggle you should know these factors are secondary to the experiences you get out of leaving your comfort zone. It's not all daisies of course. It took me a long time to adapt to the world of traveling. In fact, I found myself clinging to anything or anyone familiar just to have that security blanket, but I had to learn those actions defeat the purpose of coming half way around the globe. You have to leave your comfort zone, you have to get used to not showering, you have embrace the fact that the odor you smell may very well be YOU, but on top of everything you just have put yourself out there. If you get burned, you learn. If not, you still learn. It's a simple life for the traveler and that's the beauty. Honestly I can't even tell you the last time I watched television. This lack of outside entertainment has made me offer my own, which has spurred a number of the adventures I have been on -- it all really came from trying to avoid boredom, simple as. (Sorry there's some Kiwi lingo for you "simple as, sweet as, thick as" it goes on.) This is not meant to be preachy. I certainly don't have it all figured out and am still very new to the world of travel. There are others who I have met along the way who would have a very different interpretation and give very different advice, but that's the beauty: there's no right or wrong way to do things. It's all up to you and what you make for yourself, not what other people, cultures, or the media says. You have a blank slate to do with what you want -- that's the adventure. More importantly, travel forces you to cut out the excess and become a minimalist. Even though you might be burning petrol and flying in planes you are changing your habits to do more with less. It's all so simple and it is one the fundamentals to a more sustainable life.

Where was I going with this? Hmmmm... Oh right, I am coming home soon, very soon in fact and I can't help but wonder how I will adapt to my old life back home. Editing the documentary should absorb my life for some time, but it's the little things that terrify me. Exhibit A: Trying to pick out an outfit when I'll have a closet full of options, not just a suitcase. I am literally terrified of this idea. To remedy this and avoid drama, I plan to sell off what I don't need. The other issue is I am not sure how long I will last staying in one place. In New Zealand, my longest stretch has been three weeks. THREE WEEKS! This might pain those I love back home, but I honestly don't think the travels are going to stop anytime soon. This world is round and I intend to see more. Simple as. The idea of spending the best years of my life working to enjoy actual living during my older years just does not sit right with me, it never has (which explains why I became a journalist). I can't be a corporate slave and I am incapable of conforming to the status quo. It's just the way I am. This trip has shown me how far I can move away from the comforts of home and I know I can go further. It's the challenge and the new faces that pull me in (along with the scenery). People are meant to be free and for me the road offers this freedom. For those of you who have had a dream to see distant lands and experience new cultures all I have to say is this: People keep asking me, "Why do you travel?" and the only response I have is, "Why not?" The life of a nomad has it's advantages and home will always be there. The people who are not willing to be there for you when you return are the people who are worth leaving behind.