Settling into the Unknown

When I retell the tales of my travels the events seem more exciting, more entertaining and a lot less scary. When my memory has had time to smooth the edges and extract the periods of time where I experienced delays, anxiety and discomfort the stories are sifted down to the highlights, the good fortune and fun.

Almost every night while I was on my own I had no idea where I would end up, let alone where I would sleep, which was fine earlier in my travels with the car and five other people, but alone it’s a bit worrisome. But, every night I was provided shelter by a number of generous Kiwis. It’s easy to have faith after things work out. The anticipation of the unknown was also a bit addicting and thrilling. Until day 13, when I arrived in Te Anau, and the thrill exhausted my emotions and my resourcefulness felt depleted. I was tired from travelling with strangers all day, evening was setting in, I had no where to stay, I was tired from caring my 20kg pack so I’d hid it in the city bushes. Desperate for a bit of comfort and familiarity (and wanted to let my family know I was alive), I phoned my sister. After a measly five minutes of talking my phone card died.

I hung up the phone, checked that my bag was still hidden in the park where I’d left it, sat by the lake and stared out at the mountains. Behind me was a small Presbyterian church with Reverend Lamb’s phone number. I called him on my cell phone – I’d caved to using the cell phone, which probably will cost me more than if I’d payed for accommodation every night – and asked if I could set up my tent in the church yard. I would have camped in a proper campground, but in a resort town like Te Anau all camp sites are 10 km outside the city and cost about $20 per person. I didn’t have transportation or the will to pay to sleep on the ground.

“You’re welcome to set up your tent, or you can stay with my family, my wife and two boys (ages 14 and 16). We have a guest room you can stay in. How many nights do you think you’d want?” “Where are you?” “I’ll pick you up on five minutes.”

Two sunny days later I left the security of Lambs’ lake view home, which had a private spare bedroom with a queen-sized bed. They’d loaned me a bike and directions to trails and hiking (the Kepler Track) and treated me like an invited guest.

Revived, I hit the road early on the 23rd, ready to make my way from Te Anau, which is in the south part of the South Island, to Nelson, which is in the north part of the South Island and where I would be spending Christmas, but not sure I would make it intime for the Christmas day feast.

One car carried me from Te Anua to Christchurch, a seven hour journey, and a second car drove me four hours from Christchurch to the doorstep of the lake house in Nelson Lake, which was two hours out of his way, but he was feeling charitable and avoiding his family’s Christmas. I was the first to arrive for the Christmas holiday even though I had travelled half a country and the later arrivals lived one hour away and had their own vehicles.

Things worked out, which is easy to see in hindsight.