The Post I Never Wanted to Write.

Well, the inevitable happened. Everyone will tell you that if you travel for long periods of time, there are a few things that are guaranteed to occur. What I think rates as number one is: you will get sick. Well, we addressed that one in my last post. When traveling alone, you will probably get lonely. And with extended travel, you will probably at some point be pretty tight with money. I have definitely touched on all of the above during the past year. The other thing is that, no matter how prudent you are, you will likely experience theft. This is why travelers are encouraged to wear those stupid body wallets under their clothes, why they sell all sorts of locks and chains and armoured gear, and why they tell you never to leave valuables in your car.

For most of my year, I got by with experiencing NZ as a relatively safe place. So much of the country is made up of farmland and small towns where you might not even have a key to your house. Yes, there are travelers everywhere so you do need to be careful, but for the most part I was fairly removed from feeling vulnerable or unsafe. I did have a couple food items stolen in one hostel, and a pair of trousers disappeared from my belongings at another, but I'd say two encounters with petty theft in a whole year is pretty darn good. I always kept my things packed away in my bag, even if I was staying in a hostel for more than a night. I preferred top bunks in busy hostels where I slept with a bag containing my laptop, wallet, and passport. On road trips I kept valuables with me - or, if necessary, hidden in the depths of my things. I lived by the notion of "out of sight, out of mind" and, near as I could tell, it worked. As they say, "opportunity creates a thief," so I made a good effort not to allow 'opportunity' to come knocking.

Welcome to Wanaka

When I first determined that I was definitely headed to New Zealand, it was right around the time that my brother, Keith, and sister-in-law, Cristin, were on their honeymoon. They spent three weeks traveling around New Zealand, and upon their return had quite a slideshow to present! They were able to explain their impressions of different areas of the country, and seemed eager to tell me where to live. Of all the places they visited, they recommended a town called Wanaka.

Wa-Na-Ka. It sounded so foreign at the time! The only way for me to remember it was by noting how it rhymed with Hanukkah. Keith described how it was similar to Queenstown (the adrenaline capital of the world) but less touristy. They assured me there were just as many outdoor adventure activities, but not quite as many shops or tourists. Cristin talked about the spectacular views and both showed off pictures from their visit. The town sits right on Lake Wanaka, nestled in some beautiful mountains, and, upon a bit more research, I discovered it has heaps of climbing crags quite close to town!

I was sold. Though, I continued to consider alternate places to spend a good portion of my time. I found that Nelson was also in close proximity to some outdoor climbing, and was also attracted by its location in wine country. Nelson is at the top of the South Island and competes with another nearby town for the most sunshine days in the country. I determined that both Nelson and Wanaka were going to be places to spend some time, and decided that Nelson’s weather sounded ideal in the summer, and Wanaka looked like the perfect ski town to spend my winter!

A Few Traveling Stressors

When we arrived at the airport in Auckland, we had to be there in time for my family’s international flight back to the states. This meant I was hours early for a domestic flight and, if you remember my security check from my flight down to Christchurch you will know how unnecessary that is. I checked in right away and noticed an earlier flight to Nelson; there happened to be space on it, so I changed my flight so that I would arrive in Nelson almost before I was meant to leave Auckland!

When I got the flight squared away and checked my baggage, naturally, I went to the gate to wait for my flight. It was somewhere around that time that I realized how unprepared I was to continue my journey. I had not arranged a place for me to stay that night, nor had I even scheduled a ride from the airport. I didn’t even know what was next – Working in Nelson? WWOOFing? Getting back on the Flying Kiwi tour? The only thing certain was that I would, indeed, get back on the Flying Kiwi tour, but that I would have to book that ahead of time and it most certainly wouldn’t be a last minute arrangement during peak season!

I hurriedly called a few backpackers (hostels) in Nelson, including some that I had been to before and remembered me well, but there was no space for that night! In the middle of dialing yet another number, I realized my flight had been called so I had to board the plane. I tried my best to put it out of my mind until I landed, but of course I spent the next hour on the plane thinking about where I was not going to stay that night (and how I would find a place that would take me, or what I would do If I couldn’t). My friendly Nelson couchsurfer friends would probably have been willing to help, but they were on holiday in Australia. I didn’t have a tent I could put up anywhere, and I began to wonder if I would end up like the girl I saw up at the Centre of NZ one night – sitting on a bench with a sleeping bag and a bottle of wine.