The Promised Land

I’ve made it to the promised land, and it lives up to the name.

The last post was written midst of my scramble to clear out of Rotorua. I couldn’t afford it much effort because I was busy tying off loose ends like getting my hair cut, writing cards, gathering my junk, and of course, saying goodbyes. Now that I’m through the other end, I must write before my memories go stale.

My first few days with Tom and Robbyn have been amazing. Admittedly, I’ve spent a lot of time I could have been writing lounging about reading a novels my parents helped pick, but I’ve fully indulged in my opportunity to wind down a little. After a few weeks of steady work and full time van living in Rotovegas, I’m more than happy to chill.

Tom and Robbyn have been fantastic hosts. It’s nice to get to know them a lot better now that I’m older. Talk about being surrounded by inspiring people. And they’ve been so generous to me. We do a lot together during the daytime, especially showing me around. Don’t get me started about the food situation. I’ve been eating so well since I arrived. All the berries are in season too, more on that later. First, let me recount what happened earlier in the week.

As I’ve said, Friday was my last day at Zippy’s. I shouldn’t have expected it to be easy. Of all the days I worked, this was easily the busiest. Naturally, I struggled to keep up (so did everybody else). At one point we were completely out of rolled cutlery, there was food to serve, tables to clear, no space for trays on the drying table, one still in the sanitizer, and a stack of plates a mile high next to the already-full sink. I had barely caught up from the lunch rush when my shift ended. If I can avoid it, Friday will have been my last day in hospitality.

After work I had to run around like a chicken with its head cut off. First I bopped over to the library to finish a card for the guys at the shop. Then, I went to deliver it to them and get all of my crap that I had been storing in the back. I met local ripper Sam Shaw while I was there. We made plans to link up again when he races the Enduro World Series at Northstar next summer. Next, I stopped by Gary’s house to deliver his card and say goodbye. He gave me another bag of lettuce, then he and Soma started emptying their fridge into my cooler. I literally had to leave for them to stop giving me food. Never have I met such generous folks. I’ll remember them.

I had to gas it back into town to get my hair cut before the place closed. Normally, I would have had it cut a month earlier. I was debating leaving it long, but there would be too much of an awkward in between phase before I would have a flowing mane. My last stop was Zippy’s to say goodbye and order the meal I had earned from my earlier shift. Hugs all around.

At the showers that evening, I made a new friend. Brent, a van dweller and former convict who had turned his life around, chatted with me for some time before giving me a bowl of curry from his custom specked Ford Transit, positive guy. I returned the favorite by sharing some of my dark chocolate from mama’s shipment.

The next morning I saw no point in sticking around, so off I went. It was somewhat emotional, mostly a relief. The weather was nice which kept me happy.

I didn’t stop for much on my way to Wellington. My first stop was to fill up at the super cheap gas station on the way to Taupo. I took a little detour off the highway in the high desert adjacent to the Tongariro national park, which contains dry plains and stunning volcanoes. I stopped again for a coffee in a dinky town along the way to charge my Chromebook. My only other stop was beneath a bridge of a river to read for awhile in a peaceful setting.

In Wellington, I fueled again at Pak N Save before finding my way to my selected freedom campsite in Owhiro Bay. When I got there, all the camp space were taken, so I parked in the adjacent lot and made dinner. A ranger came and demanded to see my self containment certification. I had to dig it out of my suitcase to show him. Then, another camper approached me asking if I wanted a roof rack for my van. He and his partner used to have the same van and they saved the rack. I told him I’d think about it.

I recognized a group of three guys I had seen at the showers in Rotorua the week before. They remembered me too. The three Frenchmen were childhood friends in their mid twenties who apparently liked each other well enough to cram into a self contained van for an entire year. They pulled out an extra chair for me while I finished my dinner. They had some leftover rice which I added to my salad. I brought over the 15 pack of Heineken the bike shop guys had sent me off with. A little while later, a space opened up, so I lunged at the opportunity to move my van into a legitimate freedom camping spot. Finally I could relax and enjoy the evening with my new friends. We stayed up late, and I realized before I went to bed that I had missed my chance to get the rack which I decided I wanted. Too bad.

I wanted to make the most of my single day in Wellington. Everyone had been telling me there was great mountain biking to be found, so I whipped out my phone and took a look at Trailforks. Sure enough, the area is mottled with trail centers. Makara Mountain Bike Park appeared to be the best, and it wasn’t too far off.

The parking lot was nearly full, and I took my time eating something and getting ready to ride. I had to borrow a hand pump from someone returning from their ride to compensate for air lost to effusion from my tubeless tires. A guy pulled into the spot next to me, so I asked him which trails I should ride. We ended up being ready to take off around the same time, and he invited me to tag along on the climb.

We set off up a beautifully graded single track climb that reminded me a lot of trails in California. My new friend Adam set a good pace, which I had no trouble matching on rested legs and a light breakfast. At the top, we were surrounded by a beautiful three-sixty view of the ocean, rolling hills with wind farms, and the Wellington harbor. We rode the ridge trail partway down the mountain before climbing back to the top. It was steep and rocky and felt just like a trail called Mile in Pacifica, California. Then we came down a snaky, technical trail called vertigo. At one point, you cross a ladder bridge over a stream, then make a sharp 270 degree turn uphill and duck under the same bridge with your tires in the water. At the end, Adam and I exchanged numbers for another ride when I’m back through the area.

 

The rest of my day was spent in downtown Wellington. I got a shower and post-ride van lunch before heading to the Te Papa museum. It was one of the best I’ve ever seen, or at least been able to appreciate with my newly earned adult status. My favorite exhibit was about the Anzacs in the Gallipoli Campaign. They had created larger-than-life-like sculptures that were incredibly realistic down to the glistening beads of sweat on soldier’s foreheads. I spent hours in there.

I knew I should get back to Owhiro Bay soon enough to get a space, but I took the time to walk up and down the waterfront to get a feel for the city. There’s a public high dive in the center of the boardwalk where people can plunge into the harbor from probably 10 meters high. Further down there were people slack lining over the water. The weather was great for swimming, and, being Sunday, people were out in droves enjoying the city. Wellington has more of an alternative vibe and is big enough to be interesting but small enough to avoid a lot of the negatives of life in Auckland. If it weren’t known for being so windy, I would love to live there.

There were no spaces at Owhiro Bay, so I parked at the mouth of the lot and waited with my book. It was stressful because all the spaces were filled by other freedom campers, and I didn’t expect anybody to leave for the night. About an hour in, somebody left. I slid in there before anyone had the chance to rob me of my place to sleep. Finally, I could relax. The campers next to me handed me a beer.

I woke up at 6:15 Sunday morning to get to the ferry line by 7:00. I ate breakfast in line before boarding the vessel. They make everybody leave their cars on the vehicle deck, so I had to pack my bag with everything I needed for the 3.5 hour journey across the Cook Strait. I mostly read the whole time with the exception of getting up to look at the views when we entered the Marlborough sound. As we exited the ferry into Picton, I noticed the van belonging to the guy with the roof racks. Damn! I had missed him again.

I was blessed with a third chance. A few miles down the highway, I saw them again pulled off on the side of the road. There was no way I’d miss them this time.

I didn’t have enough cash on me, so I followed them slightly out of my way to a town called Blenheim where I could use an ATM. We made the deal in a parking lot. $60 bucks, not too bad!

Lunch was made at the side of the road in the green mussel capitol of the world, Havelock. A mom and daughter who were parked next to me suggested I take a swim in the Pelorus river if I was on my way to Nelson.

When I got to the river, I got in line at the cafe to seek some local knowledge on the best place to go for a swim. They barista told me to go right under the bridge I had driven over! Easy enough. Sure enough, the river was narrow and deep, sided by high rocks to jump off. I got a girl to take a video of me jumping in. The water was warm. It was very similar to one of my favorite places, Sooke Potholes on Vancouver Island, BC. After my swim, I set off for Tom and Robyn’s.

There was a warm welcome awaiting me in Mapua. Tom and Robyn showed me around, and I finally met Rex who lives in the garage. Tom and Robyn have created an amazing sanctuary for themselves perched atop a ridge overlooking the Tasman Bay and Richmond Range. The sunny weather complimented my introduction. The backyard is full of tasteful landscaping overflowing with citrus and stone fruit. Robyn keeps a neat little garden, which is erupting with its summer bounty. I can’t forget to mention the giant jar of peanut butter waiting on the guest room bedside table, decorated as a Christmas present. Paradise. That evening we dined on Manuka smoked salmon and a boysenberry cobbler that rocked my world.

The next morning after a cup of coffee and my first steamed egg, Tom took my out in his Cobra for a little job-hunt cruise. We went up the bay to Motueka, where I had the chance to check out the bike shop I have since applied to. We took a scenic route back and met and stopped to meet Neil who runs the local cherry operation. The shop position is for three days per week, so I may want to supplement my time there with cherry picking while the season lasts.

Without any cash on hand, Tom and I ran back to the house and grabbed bikes to return for the fruit. This area feels a lot like California wine country, at least what it might have been like 50 years ago. We spent the rest of the day chilling. Chicken dinner.

Wednesday I had to drop my application off at the bike shop. After doing so, I did some exploration up near Abel Tasman park. That evening, we attended a movie at a local theater called the Gecko. We watched 11/9, a Michael Moore film about Trump’s rise to presidency. A storm picked up while we were inside, and we drove home through lighting and torrential rain. How suiting.

The next morning, Tom and Robyn took me for a bike ride to a winery out in the local hills. There were picturesque views along the way, and the food at this place was incredible. They had a really good chef who made careful and decorative arrangements of our meals. This little winery felt like it was hidden from the rest of the world, yet a few others trickled in while we relaxed outside. After another excellent boysenberry cobbler, Tom challenged me to a game with his custom corn hole setup. He whumped me. Will have to practice.

On Friday we went to the World of Wearable Art museum in Nelson. They also have a car collection on display, so there was something for everybody. The costumes, which are used in an annual performance in Wellington, are the elaborate creations of artists around the world. They compliment the display of the wearable art with clips from the actual performance. The car collection was impressive, and they even had a mint example of an FB Rx-7, just like mine back home.

We stopped for lunch at Eddyline Brewery and Pizzeria on the way back in hopes to meet the owner, Mic Heynekamp. He wasn’t in, so instead, we had an excellent lunch and I got to check the place out.

That afternoon, Tom and I made a custom fruit picking device using a bamboo stalk and a carefully bent piece of wire. We tested it by hooking down a few apricots from the upper reaches of the tree. Later, we went into Mapua for some groceries and found the most amazing gluten free bread I’ve ever had at the local bakery. After dinner, Tom and I tagged along with Rex back to a tavern in Mapua for a drink and live music. Good times all around.

Saturday was fun. After the coffee ritual we went for another bike ride. We rode down to Mapua where we waited for the ferry to take us across to Rabbit Island. Then, we rode down the island along the beach to the bridge at the other end. From there, we winded along a well built path the rest of the way to Richmond, where we pit stopped at a cafe before turning around to come back. The entire ride was somewhere near 50km but mostly flat. Tom and Robyn’s neighbor had reached out to her friend’s son who’s around my age. It turns out he was having a little gathering and I was welcome to come meet him and his friends. After lunch of a fantastic quinoa salad and fresh Gazpacho, I took my van into Richmond for the party, not knowing what to expect. The host, Josh, was actually originally from Saratoga, California! Small world. I got along well with everybody there and ended up staying awhile. I got a call from Coppin’s telling me to come in for a trial day today, Sunday. Great news! Now I’m scrambling to finish writing so I can eat breakfast and head in for trial.

Oddly enough, this week here has been harder to remember than my days leaving Rotorua. The South Island rocks, and I’m already so much happier. I’ll have to keep up with the blog a little better than I have been so it’s not such a challenge to remember everything. And of course, I’m still working on remembering to take photos.