Wat Phra Kaew, Bangkok

Thailand is everything I thought it would be: hot, humid, insane traffic, friendly people, amazing temples, scam artists, tiny streets, unfamiliar tastes and smells, long train rides, cheap food, hard beds, unbelievable sunsets, and best of all: an adventure every day.

I arrived in Bangkok, a little shell-shocked, five days ago following an 11 hour flight from Auckland. I stayed at Shanti Lodge Guesthouse in Thewet, and I highly recommend it.

My birthday breakfast

After a somewhat ambitious walk to Khao San Road and back, I crashed hard and woke 12 hours later on my 37th birthday (yaay me!). I decided that I would find a way to see Wat Pho, even though travel in this city of 12 million people scared the crap out of me. I managed to get kinda/sorta lost on the way to the river taxi pier, but this was a good thing as I met a lovely Argentinian couple along the way, and we ended up spending the day together visiting not only Wat Pho but the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew as well.

Martin, Mayra and me

Bangkok’s heat is unbelievable. It is so hot and muggy, your sweat sweats. A lot. Spending our first day in Thailand wandering from wat to wat may have been a bit foolhardy, but we saw some of the most incredible things. Thai architecture is very ornate and opulent. No expense seems to be spared on temples or palaces, something that is a little jarring when you see how poor the countryside is.

The next day I travelled solo to Ayutthaya, the ruined former capital of Siam. Id been wanting to go there for ages, ever since I started looking into coming to Thailand. I stayed at Cheung Lumni Village, which was beautiful but sort of isolated for my tastes. I dont think there was ever more than 10 people staying there, which was meant it was nice and quiet. It also meant that it was difficult to meet people to do things with. I ended up renting a bicycle for the day and riding around town to see the ruins.

Wat Phra Mahathat

The ruins did not disappoint. They were incredible, and it was very easy to imagine how the ancient city would have looked before it was destroyed by the Burmese almost 500 years ago. I spent a full day sightseeing, and only made it to two locations: Wat Phra Mahathat (home of the lovely nestled Buddha head above, and Wat Phra Si San Phet. The Historical Park is HUGE.

I had originally intended to go to Sukkothai after Ayutthaya, but the relative loneliness changed my mind. I took the morning train to Chiang Mai, and arrived in that northern city twelve hours later. Im staying at Libra Guesthouse in the Old City, and its lovely, however there is morning construction near by that does not endear itself to me. I will stay here at least one more night though, as I like the convenience of already being in a place (I hate my luggage and am loathed to move it again any time soon).

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Taking Flight at 90 Mile Beach

Sorry for leaving you all on such a down note, the last few weeks have FLOWN by and I am now in Thailand. A quick recap:

My friend Amy flew over from Australia (where she was visiting from the US) and came with me up to the Northland. We went to Whangarei and Tutukaka (on The Perfect Day boat trip to the Poor Knights Islands — fantastic!) and Paihia (where I took the highly recommended AwesomeNZ Cape Reinga day trip) together before going separate ways.

Whangarei & Poor Knights Islands day trip

Paihia and Cape Reinga/90 Mile Beach day trip

After Paihia, I headed back south and went to Raglan, to the most amazing backpackers in all of New Zealand. Karioi Lodge is an eco-retreat about 10k from town, and is also the home of the Raglan Surf School. I spent 4 days there and FINALLY learned how to stand up and surf, go me!

After Raglan, I headed back up to Auckland for my friends Ash and Elisa’s wedding. It was held on Ash’s parents farm about an hour out of Auckland and was a simply magical day. I took a few photos, but Elisa has asked that I not post any online so Im honouring that request.

I really should have left NZ the day after the wedding, as I ended up just faffing about Auckland for two days before leaving for good. I really enjoyed my time there though, so it wasnt too bad. I stayed at Oaklands Lodge in Mt Eden (where I watched Team Canada win Olympic Gold, w00t!), and wished that Id chosen that suburb to live in when Id first arrived. It was so lovely, with great brunch spots, markets and shops. Oh well!

I thought I would be more emotional about leaving New Zealand, after having been there for so very long. I love the country, but I think deep in my heart I always knew I would be leaving and so didn’t become as attached to it as others I know. So much has happened in the last few weeks, and I really would like to sit down and reflect on how I think my time there affected me (because it definitely has!), but that may not happen for a few weeks yet as Ive landed in Bangkok now and am kind of reeling from being here. Entry on BKK coming soon though!

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1. Almost tiki-tour time! I’ve finally reached the point where I am close...

There is a kiwi bird somewhere in there. Seriously.

So. To itemize the things making me feel frustrated:

1. My weight. Yep, still at #1. I saw a photo of me from Rainbow Serpent and boy did I look terrible. They say pictures never lie, but they do represent a moment in time. And at that particular moment, I looked like a house. The image has been with me since I saw it yesterday and Im unable to shake it.
2. I wasnt able to go dolphin swimming today because of rough seas. The boat still went out, and Amy went with it, but because of the choppiness of the water I chose to back out and get a refund. I was absolutely miserable on the 2 hour Kaikoura trip, I can just imagine how a 6 hour one would be. Ive been taking an anti-motion sickness pill called Sea Legs for some time now, but I dont think it could have handled these waves. As I only have one week left in NZ, I wont be in Paihia long enough for the waves to die down (they said it would be ok by Sunday or Monday) and do the other things I want and need to do before leaving on March 2. Id been looking forward to this trip for a year, and Im feeling a little frustrated and betrayed by my body. I had to cancel doing the Tongariro Crossing because Id twisted my ankle, and now this. I know a huge part of having an enjoyable travel is to be flexible with your plans, but again, Im just feeling like Im getting in my own way and it makes me sad.
3. Im itchy. Something bit me on Friday night in Auckland, on my leg, and the welts still wont go down. Id assumed it was mozzie bites, but Amy thinks that I should have it looked at as a week later they are still red, sore and well, welty. *sigh* I also have bites on my chest, arms and tummy and with the crazy humidity we’re having, I itch all the time. Ive been putting a topical cream on them, and taking an antihistamine, but its not really working. I really would rather to not see a doctor, as visits are around $50-80 depending where in the country you go. I’ll pop by the chemists tomorrow and see if they cant help me any
4. Things are breaking. My point and shoot camera broke (the lens wont retract), leaving me with only my very heavy and obvious DSLR. One of my two pairs of pants ripped today, and as I took the belt off, I noticed thats falling apart too.
5. My bags are still way to freaking heavy, and I dont know what else I can send home or toss out. The carry on bag that I impulsively bought in Melbourne weighs a tonne and Im thinking that it may have to be left behind as when I have my camera and laptop in it, it weighs at least 8-10kg. I feel like a pack mule

So there you have it, my whinge of the day.

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Me and my new friend Megs at Market Stage

I’ve been back from Australia for a few weeks now, but have been finding it really hard to sit down and write my thoughts and experiences on the things I’m doing. I guess that is a sure sign that I’m having a good time!

Before Kiwiburn, there was Rainbow Serpent. I had gone last year with Stephanie, Alex and Tim. This year, Steph and I had a new and fantastic crew to run with. Our experience this year could not have been more different than last years — where in 2009 we camped in tents in the back of beyond (aka Boganville), and ate food cooked on the hood of the car (no joke), this year Stephanie was one of the Brain Children behind RS’s very first dedicated theme camp.

Nargile Lounge sign and head table

The Nargile Lounge was a Middle Eastern hookah and bellydance venue. A US Army tent was bought and transformed via billowing fabric, beautiful lanterns and hand made and painted tables. Cushions were strewn about the tent, and all who wandered by were invited in to sit for a spell and enjoy something a little different than the doof that the festival so amply provided.

Kat and Amy dancing at sunset

There were about a dozen of us in total, including my good friend Katherine from Christchurch who flew over for this adventure with me. We arrived in Melbourne a few days before the festival and helped with a bit of the final preparations on the tables. We headed up to the festival site a few days before it officially opened to put the camp together. It was a lot of hard work, but in the end, completely worth it.

Me, in a tutu, at Rainbow Serpent!

Before the festival, Kat and I had a few days to spare so we took a mini road trip along the Great Ocean Road. The weather was lovely (for the most part), and we saw some incredibly gobsmacking scenery. On the way back to Melbourne we stopped off at a park and managed to find a tree with not one, but FIVE koalas living in it. Sa-weet.

To be perfectly frank, Im finding it really difficult for me to recap everything now, as I feel like anything I write now will not do the time I spent in Australia justice. I had an amazing time, and met some wonderful new people (most of whom are for keeps!) So, here are a few photos, I hope you will forgive this complete and utter cop out of a post :P

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The Man

Many years ago I learned about the four elements: Air, Fire, Water, and Earth; each one corresponding to a cardinal point on the map, a selection of human emotions and its genders, the seasons of the year, a rainbow of colours and a vast array of gods and goddesses from a multitude of humanity’s faiths. The elements, it would seem, represent all of humanity and the thoughts and realities that each of us can create or experience.

Kiwiburn flag and poi

Until now, my only Burning Man experiences were Decompression parties in Toronto. Wildly spectacular, with everyone being encouraged to not only attend but participate in the evening’s goings-ons. When I was invited to go to Kiwiburn, on the North Island of New Zealand, I didn’t really know what to expect save that I knew I would be welcomed with open arms and that I would meet some incredible people over the course of the event’s four days. I hoped that it would be similar to what I knew, but with a healthy dose of nature (and Kiwi ingenuity!) tossed in for good measure.

The Paddock

Arriving at Kiwiburn, the gate was set up so that you were properly greeted and birthed into the world of the Burn. With this year’s theme being “Elementality”, we were asked to choose between one of four gates to pass through to enter into the festival, with the intent that this would be the thing you would try to incorporate into your Kiwiburn experience. Usually, when faced with this type of choice, I would pick Water or Fire. A quintessential Pisces, I tend to gravitate towards all things Watery. I can be moody, dreamy, emotional and creative. I love Fire for its warmth, vibrancy and passion (although I also have a healthy dose of respect for it); I often joke that I am Steam. Yet this time I picked Air, the sign of imagination, creative development and new beginnings. I’m at a rather special time in my life right now, travelling extensively for the first time ever, wandering from place to place with no real intinerary (something that shocks my nearest and dearest, no doubt). I feel as though my life has changed irrevocably after this past year while living in New Zealand, and that things New and Filled With Potential are coming my way. So, Air. I passed through the gate, crawled through a fabric tunnel, and left the default world behind (while proudly ringing a bell and proclaiming “I am not a virgin anymore!”).

Marian, one of my travelling companions and Burner extraordinaire, gets welcomed into Kiwburn

Where Burning Man is held on the playa, in the desert of Nevada, Kiwiburn lives on the gently rolling paddock. It is lush and green, with cattle often seen roaming about not too far away — its scenery is classic Kiwiana, with the only thing missing being a flock or two of sheep. The site is fortunate enough to include a freshwater lake, brisk at first but eventually becoming refreshing and cleansing. Best of all, it came complete with a floating pirate ship!

This is either madness or brilliance

Megs and the giant kaleidoscope

I think that most of all, the things I liked the most were creations that nobody was around to take credit for: a tea party set up in the middle of a field, windmills on top of a burm, heart shaped containers filled with lollipops, a cookie tree, led-filled balloons that looked for all the world like giant bobbing gumdrops.

Goody goody!

Another favourite of mine, was the Illuminati theme camp. In addition to a killer dance camp (which included a psytrance dj from Montreal, whose name I cant remember sadly), the Illuminati appeared at various times throughout the festival to perform one of four elemental rituals; I was lucky enough to catch two: water and fire.

Illuminati in water

... and in fire

Kiwiburn, as a Regional Event, follows the 10 Principles of Burning Man (radical inclusion, gifting, decommodification, radical self-reliance, radical self-expression, communal effort, civic responsibility, leaving no trace, participation, and immediacy), and I really do feel that KB and everyone there strove to manifest all of these things. A decommodified zone, no money was exchanged between participants; instead gifts were freely given. I was pleased to receive a set of handmade fabric poi (which I sadly left behind in the RV I was travelling in), and an anklet with a heart-shaped charm on it (the latter given along with a shot of whiskey!). Everyone shared, and it seemed that everyone had one another’s back (literally, with Sun Spot stations dotted about the paddock with free — and highly needed — sunscreen!)

The Man at night

Of the four elements, Fire is naturally the most beloved of Burning Man and its Regional Burns (of which Kiwiburn is one, now in its seventh year). At Kiwiburn, fireplay was taught and encouraged by Balrog’s Playpen, a collective of fun-loving people eager to spread the joy of lighting things on fire then swinging them about your head on metal chains, staffs, whips and fans. It’s been several years now since I first caught the fire bug, having learned to spin fire poi at home in Toronto, but not having spun fire for over a year and with little interest in doing so now, I was content to sit on the side and photograph those playing about in the darkness. This was definitely Air coming into play, as much time was spent fiddling and exploring the various settings on my camera to produce the results I envisioned. I had an interesting conversation with a Burner from the States, about photography. He had lost all of his snapshots in a transcontinental move many years ago, and since developed the view that its best to keep ones memories in my head. For me, photography isnt so much about capturing memories as it is sharing the things I see, do and experience with those not with me.

Balrog, I presume?

Of course, the Main Event was the burning of the Man. This year’s effigy seemed quite large to my virgin eyes (although Ive been told the one in Nevada is many times taller!), and lovingly painted with elemental symbols. Fire, among other things, is the element of creative destruction. Fire emolliates what it touches, consumes it, leaving only ashes behind. Yet from the ashes comes rebirth, like the phoenix, or more temporally, the new growth of a forest after a fire has raged across its floor. I get the feeling that the symbolism behind burning the Man is of a similar vein; I also think that maybe it’s different for each person and am eager to speak with my Burner friends about it in future and get their thoughts on what the Burning means to them.

The Temple, pre-burn

In addition to burning the effigy, two other structures were set alight. On the second night of the festival a giant Norse Man, constructed by an American named Otto, was burned. It was at once poignant, beautiful and pretty damned impressive considering it was a labour of love. On Sunday night, following the burning of The Man, The Temple was burned. Based on the temple that gets built in Nevada, participants were meant to write farewell messages or prayers to the gods (or whatever higher being one might invest faith in). From what I gathered, not too many people realized this; a high number of those there this weekend were Kiwiburn virgins like myself, so weren’t aware of this intention. Hopefully next year more will scribe their messages, as there is something satisfying watching The Temple burn, seeing flames lick at the place you have left your message, and know that your words have been sent out into the world.

Megs' first firefan burn

While on the topic of fire, Megs, one of my travelling companions (who I met at Rainbow Serpent only the weekend before), discovered a love of fire fans this weekend. I watched her blossom from uncertainly moving the unlit fans about in daylight, to coyly moving them about like a pro while lit on fire at night! It’s been a really long time since I watched someone discover the intensity of fire play, and it was thrilling to see. It also reminded me that it’s been a while since I learned a new skill or art form, so now Im eager to spread some creative wings of my own as soon as possible!

Nicole!

I met so many lovely people over the weekend, some of whom I suspect will be friends “for keeps”. One of them, a vivacious Aussie named Nicole, brought up the thought that we should have a special term for festival friends. You arrive as strangers, and create intense relationships with people. You can spend the entire weekend sharing food, laughter, dances, emotions and ideas all without knowing your newfound friends’ personal stories, and in some cases, their real names!

Megs and Marian. I was @ Kiwiburn because of these two ladies.
Thank you so very much for such an incredible experience!

The inclusion I felt at Kiwiburn was a beautiful thing. I often struggle with feeling accepted in my day to day life, unfairly comparing myself to those around me. Am I skinny enough, interesting enough, playful enough .. basically, am I good enough to be there? Silly, but true. I’ve gotten better with these issues over the last few years, but at Kiwiburn for perhaps the first time ever, I didnt feel as though I was measuring myself up to the creative people around me. I felt instantly welcome, a part of a special family. Everyone was dear, and it was a sublimely comforting thing.

Kiwiburn at night

So, and the end of it all, how do I look back and regard my time on the Paddock? I can’t say it was life changing, but it was life affirming. After so many months of not being around Burners and their type (wildly expressive, openly loving, slightly crazy, and madly creative) it really drove home for me that I need more experiences like this one in my life. As I wrote earlier, I feel as though I’m on the cusp of a whole new chapter in my life (we can call it Kelly 3.0) and I just cant help but feel the values and personalities of Kiwiburn are exactly the sort that I need to be encouraged by and surround myself with on a regular basis.

I’m excited to be on the homeward journey now, and although it’s been a few weeks since I said goodbye to Christchurch it’s only just now that the enormity of what I’m doing is beginning to sink in. It also only just occurred to me today that I have less than three weeks left in New Zealand. After 15 months, the last few weeks have snuck up on me and while I’m eager to be in Thailand, I cant believe I’m saying goodbye to my adopted home so terribly soon.

Written in Taupo and Rotorua, North Island, New Zealand

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Roos coming up! No, not really -- but I did see koalas!

Woah. How did I get so far behind on my posts? I must be out having too much fun, I’ll tell you what! I’m currently in Rotorua, one week into my North Island Tiki Tour. Ive been to Oz and Rainbow Serpent and back, and to Kiwiburn, NZ’s regional Burning Man event. I have lots of stories to tell, so sit tight. I’ll try and get them written up for you soon! I have lots of exciting and interesting plans in the works, 2010 is shaping up to be my best year ever!

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Sam, my trusty steed

When I was a kid, a good chunk of my summers were spent up at Fraser Lake Camp near Bancroft, Ontario. While it was a Mennonite camp, it was also awesome with lots of fantastic activities to keep our pubescent minds safely (okay maybe not-so-safely considering some of the goings-on) occupied: sailing, canoeing, archery, arts & crafts and possibly best of all, horse back riding. Sure, they were more ponies than horses, but when you’re a kid a pony is a horse, and that’s all there was to it. I went to FLC for three years, and by my last year I was an old hat at horse riding: I knew how to brush them down, clean their hooves, put on their bridle even. We rode bareback, which is a little shocking now that I think about it — esp for a Christian camp! – but I was able to mount and dismount my horse like nobody’s business.

The last summer I was there, I had two somewhat traumatic horse-related incidents. For all my equine “expertise”, I didnt really know what I was doing. I had no idea how to comfortably trot; cantering and galloping were out of the question. I could get the horse (ok, pony) to stop, usually, but that was ok as it wasn’t a riding camp after all! One day we’d been out riding in the forest, and were heading back to the barn as the session was drawing to a close, and I was in second. One of the other kids was having trouble with their horse, so the councillor dropped back to help then out. The minute they left me, my horse (knowing it was nearly back to the barn) kicked it into high gear and took off down the path at warp speed (that would be the speed immediately following a cantor), throwing my bareback riding self in the process. Not wearing a helmet (this was the early 80s after all), it’s amazing I didnt crack my skull open on a tree, or get trampled on by another horse. I was ok, spooked, but I lived to tell the tale.

A lovely fellow in the Marlborough Sounds

The other incident, and Im pretty sure this was the same year, was a lot more serious and may be part of the reason why the camp no longer offers horse back riding. As I mentioned, I was old hat at cleaning the horses and knew how to act around them. My friend Sara (who would, many years later, become my maid of honour) was having trouble getting her horse to lift its hoof for her to clean. My horse was already done, so I said I would help her out. I came round to her side, and bent over to pick up one of the horse’s front hoofs. What no one knew was that this horse had been kicked (or something) by another horse, and was really freaking sensitive about anyone or anything getting to near to her flank. So when I moved in beside her and picked up her hoof, she reared around, grabbed my calf (yes, as in my FLIPPIN’ LEG), and threw me away from her. Screaming and yelling and crying my 13-yr old head off, the councillors swore the horse only “nipped” me, or that she just gave me a “fright”. The massive ankle-to-knee black and blue bruise and massive swelling that appeared shortly thereafter kind of put an end to that line of thinking. I WAS BIT BY A HORSE!

So, all of this in mind, it’s been about 20 years or so since Ive been on a horse. I love horses (like many a girl), but after that summer I wasn’t so keen to get on one again. The years passed (holy smokes, I cant believe I’m writing about something from TWO DECADES ago!) and I just hadn’t had many opportunities to try it again until Katherine asked if I was interested in going horse trekking in the Marlborough Sounds. Absolutely, I told her. It sounded novel and romantic and exciting — and was something Ive been wanting to try again for many years. This was a perfect opportunity!

Shane, our ever-patient guide

The day we went out to the ranch Marlborough experienced a rare overcast and blustery day. It was drizzling a bit, but that wasn’t enough to stop us! Neither we nor the horses were made of sugar, after all. We were met at the aquataxi dock in the Sounds by Shane, the quintessential Kiwi cowboy who runs the Marlborough Sounds Horse Treks with partner (wife?) Sandy. He was a character from the get-go, a real joy to meet. We knew who he was straightaway from his cowboy hat and oilskin coat. The ranch was about a 20 minute ride from the docks, which gave us time to get to know Shane and hear a bit about the land we would be riding through. It was a shame it wasnt better weather, as the original plan had us riding along a beach.

At the ranch we were immediately met by my new best friend, Wolfie the German Shepherd, who made sure we were okay before letting us near the horses. Shane took pity on us, and provided us with oilskin coats to stay warm and dry in, and cowboy boots for us to wear too (we’d both shown up to go horseback riding in sandals. Oh yes, we were completely unprepared!). Katherine was introduced to her horse, Cloudy, and I to mine, Sam. Cloudy was a rather large horse, so I was relieved to get the smaller mount (although by the end of the day, I would wish it had been the other way around).

Oilskin coats are so very not flattering on me, but I was grateful for it
as it was very windy and chilly at times! Photo by Katherine Kearsley

After a brief lesson on how to get the horse to stop (“Woooooh” ) and we were off. Straight away I had issues, as I dont think Sam understood my Canadian accent; he pretty much refused to stop when I “wooooohed” him, which meant that right from the start he was in control. Which, as even I knew, is not a good thing. I really did try though. I tried not to sound panicked when he ignored me, or when wecame frighteningly close to the ass-end of the horse in front (visions of us getting a swift rear kick to the head swam before my eyes), or even when he decided to take off at a trot I tried not to freak out too much (although I was wondering where the seatbelt on the saddle was). Shane had infinite patience with me, and helped me to regain control on more than one occasion. I eventually learned that the best way to get Sam to stop was to guide him towards a patch of leaves or tall grasses as a snack always stopped him in his tracks.

Bringing up the rear. Photo by Katherine Kearsley

Despite not being in control of the horse, I had a really good time. The weather sucked (not going to lie), but being on the horse totally made up for it. While Sam didnt like stopping for me, once I learned to ease up a bit on the reins and let him relax we actually got on rather well (read: he didnt throw or bite me). We walked alongside the road for a bit, then turned in through a few grassy fields. We went into a manuka forest, then down through a cow paddock (I’d never been so close to a bovine before, that was neat!), finally walking across a stream and back home. In all, we were gone for about 2 hours.

Sandy and Lone Arrow

Back at the ranch, Sandy introduced us to her stallion and his progeny along with a few of the other horses being stabled there. Her pride and joy, Lone Arrow, had been profiled in Horse and Pony and she was rightfully proud of him. It was a rare treat watching horses rolling around on the ground play fighting with one another too! Never thought I would see THAT!

I’m really glad I didnt give up on riding the horse or ask Shane if I could get off and walk (both options ran through my head). Like I wrote about the other day, it’s really important to me to move beyond my comfort-zone more often and try new things — especially things that at first I may not like. I dont want to go through life fearing experiences, I want to embrace them! I figure it’s okay not to like everything I try but that it’s important that I at least give it a go. I still have a month of travels in New Zealand before I leave for Thailand, and for certain I will be adding a few more Potentially Scary or Uncomfortable New Experiences™ to my plans.

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Playing with the golden sand at Torrent Bay

After all of the rainy weather on the West Coast (yes, I know — it’s a rain forest, it’s supposed to rain), it was great heading north to Marahau and Abel Tasman National Park, one of the sunniest spots in New Zealand. We arrived super late at The Barn, did in a much needed bundle of laundry, and crashed. This was the only night of the trip where I didn’t sleep well, the Sea Legs pills I was taking tended to knock me out pretty hard. But for whatever reason, sleep eluded me this night, which was perhaps not the greatest night of the trip to not get a good night’s rest as the next day was my most active one (plus it was New Year’s Eve!).

New Year’s Eve day dawned, and Katherine drove me to Abel Tasman Kayaks and parted ways (she was taking a water taxi out to meet the yacht we were spending NYE on). After a brief lesson with the kayak guide, Nick, we loaded up the truck with the boats (they’re boats, right?) and drove pretty much across the street to the beach (hey, beats carrying them — those suckers are heavier than they look!). As I didnt have a partner, I was paired up with Nick in the kayak, which was amazing as not only did he know exactly what he was doing, I got to hear a running commentary on what we were paddling past. Plus he did more than his fair share of the work (which is also awesome as my arms were pretty stiff towards the end of the trip).

Watering Cove, Abel Tasman National Park

While I loved kayaking, I have to say that I was a little disappointed with the length of the trip and from what I heard from a few others in the group I wasn’t the only one. Our “half-day trip” was over roughly two hours after hitting the water and I felt as though we hadn’t really seen anything. After going back and looking through the different tour options on their website, I think I chose poorly and should have gone with one of the more expensive options. Having taking the first of the “full day” tours (they counted in a 4-hour walk back to Marahau), I definitely feel that I short changed myself and know now to book a longer trek. If I were to kayak Abel Tasman again with this company (who were great, and I definitely would go with them again), I’d pick either the Torrent Bay Treble, or Seals & Remote Coast.

Perfection!

That said, the beaches we stopped at in the Park were as good as the advertising: soft sand, turquoise water, cobalt skies — it’s no wonder the kayaks were yellow, they contrasted perfectly with their surroundings! Kayaking wasn’t difficult and it reminded me quite a bit of canoeing from my Fraser Lake days. The Sea Legs pill I took the night before did its magic and I was perfectly fine on the waves (seriously, where can I buy these in bulk?).

Watering Cove, Abel Tasman National Park

Our tour ended at Watering Cove, so I set out on foot towards Torrent Bay to meet up with Katherine and our friend Florence, who was joining us from Christchurch for the holiday. I walked the first part of the track with a really nice German couple (those Germans, they love to hike!), although I suspect they were in much better hill-tramping condition than I was. The hill up from Watering Cover was pretty steep, and had me breathless by the top of it. The views were spectacular though, and totally worth the effort!

A top the hill from Watering Cove

We only walked together as far as Anchorage Bay, as they weren’t going all the way to Torrent Bay. This was the first time Ive ever hiked alone through anything, and I was pleasantly surprised not to feel vulnerable or at risk. Being in New Zealand has definitely dulled the “single female traveller” paranoia that I picked up in North America (for no good reason!), and I thoroughly enjoy being able to venture out into the wild and not be afraid to go around every single turn or bend.

Taking a well deserved break

Although, to be fair, it’s not as though the Abel Tasman Coast Walk is the barren wilderness. I came across many other people along my three-hour walk, many of them single women. The path is very well defined, and impossible to lose. I was really surprised at the variety of landscape it took me through: the tops of the hills were very dusty and dry, with hard packed desert-like pathways and scrubby bushes, while the bottoms were super lush and rainforest-y, with rivers and ponds and bridges. Best off all there were NO SANDFLIES OR MOSQUITOES! Happy New Year to me!

Parts of the track reminded me of Ontario

A scenic leaf-stained river. The colour comes from the tannins in the fallen foliage

As much as I enjoyed my walk through the Park, by the time I reached Torrent Bay I was kind of over it and just wanted to chill. All of the ups and downs of the path — and there were PLENTY — had left me sore and tired (again, lack of sleep the night before didnt help), and I was eager to meet up with Katherine and the others to have a cold drink and a snack. As the kayaking trip had ended an hour earlier than expected, I had a bit of a wait till being fetched from the beach. I didnt mind though, as it gave me a chance to lie in the sun and warm up (the last bit of the walk was through the forest and was chillier than elsewhere that day).

I’m not really a boat person. I like the idea of boats and while I definitely appreciate a fine looking yacht, they just aren’t for me. I feel like a fish out of water on them (literally, I’m a Pisces, ha!), not knowing what to do or how not to get in the way, I worry that simple things are breaking some kind of boating rule, and dont get me started on how to use the toilet (*sigh*). Even the terminology is lost on me. Add that to my awesome tendency to get motion sickness (there isn’t a Sea Legs strong enough to quell my shaky legs, it would seem), and I’m one tense lady once I’m on board, something no amount of alcohol seems capable of relaxing. (Although interestingly enough, I never had this problem at home while tooling about Lake Ontario (Kajama!) or on other smaller lakes. Ferries are fine for me as well. Its just open water that does it, I guess)

Full moon rising over Torrent Bay, Abel Tasman National Park

I wish I could have been a better guest or travelling companion while aboard the Dreamcatcher, but I felt so very out of place and uncomfortable. I was a bit relieved when my exhaustion from the day’s activities forced me to retire an hour before midnight. Yes, this was the first time in about a decade (maybe more) that I wasn’t awake to ring in the new year. From what I hear it was a splendid party, one I would have loved in other circumstances. The park set off fireworks from a barge, then everyone descended on to the beach to party hearty until the wee hours of the morning.

New Years Day dawned gloriously bright and shiny, or so I am told — I slept in till at least 9am (apparently to the consternation of the man whose yacht we were on). It wasn’t intentional, but the Sea Legs knocked me out so completely and on a regular basis that I was sleeping pretty hard core nearly every night of the trip.

Sailing back to Nelson

The original plan had been to spend two nights on the boat, but with bad weather coming in they were sailing back to Nelson that morning. I knew that as much as I didnt like being on boats, Katherine loved them, so I said yes to joining them for the sail. For the most part I was fine. As long as we were moving at a fair clip I couldn’t feel the rocking and swaying of the boat. The trip back to Nelson took about 3.5 hours, and it was maybe only halfway through that the sea sickness took a hold for real. We had turned the motor off for lunch and were kind of bobbing in the water. Not thinking about it (because, again, total n00b here) I went downstairs to get my plate of lunch and was pretty much lost my legs out from beneath me. Returning to the deck (ooh fancy boat terminology!), I couldn’t shake the discomfort, my stomach — while not queasy — just didnt feel right. I glued my eyes to the hills along the horizon, as they didnt move. Eventually I ended up standing up, hanging on to a rope or something for support, and swaying with the boat instead of sitting. Eating was out of the question.

I was the weakest link, and felt awful about it. I felt as though my being there and feeling this way was ruining the experience for everyone else, but there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. Id taken the sea sickness pills, done all the right things. But, as Kat told me, either you have sea legs (the real ones, not the pills) or you dont. And I definitely didnt. After a while, lunch finished and we were under way once more. The intensity of my discomfort faded and eventually I could try to enjoy myself a little again.

I’d had a lot of trepidation about spending time on the yacht. The fellow was someone Katherine had met through CouchSurfing, and I had a lot of trouble agreeing to go on his boat as he had no references or verifications on his profile page. The way the system works is that you set up your page, you participate in pub nights and events, you host or surf with other people and eventually you have a network of contacts who can vouch for you and who have left recommendations on you. There are also ways to verify your location with the organization. He had none of this, and I was insanely wary. It seemed like asking for trouble. Yet as our week went on I came to see that my not going with her would be a bit of a logistical nightmare (how we would meet up, where, when, how to contact one another when there is no cell phone range in the Park). Kat had met the fellow several weeks earlier while she was in Nelson and sussed him out a little; she felt it was a good situation. Plus, when Flo said she was coming too I began to feel a bit safer (strength in numbers and all that). I’m super happy to say that none of my fears came to pass, and despite this not being the shining moment of our trip, I’m glad that I went.

Part of the reason I came to New Zealand was to step outside my comfort zone a little. So far I’ve been pretty tame, sticking with what I know. There is precious little chance I would have spent any time at all on a yacht (a yacht!) had Katherine not arranged it, so while I didnt love it, it was a good experience for me in trusting others and trying really new things. Maybe each time I go to sea it will get easier for me, who knows? At least now I know a little of what to expect ahead of time and can maybe relax a bit more and be able to enjoy myself in future.

No related posts.

Honeycomb Caves

After leaving Hokitika, we continued up the West Coast towards Karamea. One of Katherine’s favourite places in New Zealand, our plan was to spend a few days there kayaking and exploring the Oparara rainforest and caves, then walk the first bit of the Heaphy Track, one of New Zealand’s famed Great Walks.

The West Coast Road (aka State Highway 6) is rated one of the most scenic drives in the world, and for very good reason. Regardless of weather, the place is simply mesmerizing; I wondered if people ever got tired of driving along there. Although it was raining, we stopped for a look-see at the Punakaiki Rocks. Also known as the Pancake Rocks, thanks to the stacked appearance of its 30 million year old limestone, the spot is famous for its massive blowholes at high tide. Sadly we were there somewhere closer to low tide, and while there wasn’t much blowing going on, it was still worth the stop and look (even in the drizzle!).

After Punakaiki, we continued north along the highway, eventually turning a bit inland towards Karamea. I was really looking forward to this stop as we were spending more than one night here. Up until this point, we’d been on the move every day and I think we were both looking forward to not having to pack/unpack for a little bit. The original plan had been to do a river kayak trip followed by a guided tour of the Oparara valley and Honeycomb Caves, but as it had been raining the guiding company called off the kayak trip (the river had doubled in size), and we chose to postpone our cave walk till the next day in hopes that the skies would dry up a bit. So, instead we had a really nice chill day at The Last Resort (where I wrote the Fox Glacier recap, I’m a little behind!), drinking lots of wine (at $40 a bottle, eep!), going through our numerous photos and just generally enjoying ourselves. We had some really lovely meals too: for dinner that night I had a shrimp and scallop filo pastry puff parcel that left my mouth watering even after Id finished eating. Hands down the best meal of the trip!

A leaf-stained river in the Oparara Valley

Thankfully the next day dawned with only a wee bit of rain, so we packed up the car and set out to meet our guide. The Oparara Caves are a protected system and the only way you can get even close to them is to have a DOC-licensed guide take you in. I’d never gone on a bush walk with a guide before so it was a bit novel to be able to ask about plants and wildlife along the way.

Multicoloured ferns in the Oparara

The caves were magnificent, and not what I was expecting at all. My only prior caving experience was near Austin Texas, back in 2000, and that was basically a hand-held, dont cross the velvet rope, ooh look there are multi-coloured lights, with a booming voice-over bellowing “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth…” (seriously) presentation. Not so here in Godzone! We were lead into the cave down a damp and slightly slippery slope, and cautioned not to grab hold of the very thin rope that served as a barrier. It was there for the cave’s safety, not yours!

Cavegirl extraordinaire! Photo by Katherine Kearsley

Inside the Honeycomb Cave

Our group was small, maybe eight people, so it was easy to get into the nooks and crannies of the cave. Only recently discovered (1979), “the caves are also home to the largest and most varied collection of subfossil bird bones ever found in New Zealand. More than 50 bird species, many of them extinct, have been recorded.”

A moa skull inside the caves

After the tour, which took about 2.5 hours, we drove over to the start of the Heaphy Track. We were a little short on time as we still had to drive to Marahau that day, but we both really wanted to check out the track, the Nikau Palms in particular.

The start of the Heaphy Track

The Heaphy, what I saw of it, is amazing. Super lush vegetation, palm trees and ferns every which way you look. The start of the track is marked by the massive (and slightly daunting) Kohaihai Swingbridge, which added a bit of manic (in my case) thrill to the walk.

Hanging on for dear life, and smiling all the way! Photo by Katherine Kearsley

The Kohaihai Swingbridge from afar

A pebble-strewn beach, no Nikau though

Once safely on the other side, we set off in search of the bit of the track that had a) a beach, and b) Nikau Palms. We’d both seen plenty of photos of this spot and knew it was somewhere near where we were. Although we saw a few of the iconic trees, we never found the beach although we suspect it was Scott’s Beach, which we didnt have time to reach (plus, it had started raining again).

Visiting this wee bit of the track made me realize how much I would like to do the entire track some day. I love being outdoors, but I dont have any hiking skills whatsoever. I camp fairly regularly back home, but it is nowhere near the sort of thing required on the Great Walks, and I really don’t have the gear for it right now. I definitely plan on coming back to NZ, and since I’ll have done all of the touristy things during my time here now, I can dedicate that future trip to tramping and camping till my heart’s content.

On the road again, we drove back to Westport (or maybe it was Greymouth — not sure, cant recall), we left the West Coast behind and headed north to Marahau and the start of the Abel Tasman/Golden Bay portion of our trip. The journey took us through the Buller Gorge, and again, was just beautiful. Not for the first time was I thankful I had 20gb of memory cards for my cameras! Although it was raining slightly, the sun was fighting to break through the clouds from behind us — the perfect formula for rainbows! And rainbows there were: I counted at least eight (!), although Kat reckons it was the same one just moving about. No matter how you look at it, it was magical and very picturesque.

Related posts:

1. South Island Road Trip — Fox Glacier, Lake Matheson & Hokitika Karamea – Not sure how we got to day 5...
2. Almost tiki-tour time! I’ve finally reached the point where I am close...

Fox Glacier helicopter flight! from Kelly Knights on Vimeo.

On the third day of our road trip, Kat and I took an AMAZING helicopter flight up to Mt Cook and Fox Glacier. On the way back down from the glacier I was super lucky enough to be seated in the front of the helicopter; this is the video of the flight down.

Related posts:

1. South Island Road Trip — Fox Glacier, Lake Matheson & Hokitika Karamea – Not sure how we got to day 5...