Journey

Hello all,

So I managed to escape. It's not what they generally teach you to do. But it is the best means I can find of just making it all go away. It was good. I light up inside every time I get the opportunity to tell someone about it.

While I took my proper camera with me, I mainly take photos on my mobile, so here is photographic highlights of the journey in 120 images. I even managed to keep the self portraits to a minimum for you:
Part One
Part Two

My journey really began on Thursday. I realised that I have been sitting in this same chair (yes, I am in it again now) for as long as I can remember. Although I am sure I took a break this year, to the snow, to somewhere, I actually cannot remember. It felt as though I had not escaped since last summer. Of course, (and as Coralee will quickly learn if she hasn't already) de Freitas' don't put anything off. Yeah, she knows this!. Without thinking of eminent wedding planning and my worldly responsibilities I hastily booked my train ticket to Wellington, departing the following morning. Trains are a great mode of transport. Not only are they quite efficient and will probably have to (well, hopefully) become far more central in our lifestyles in NZ, but you get to see the country like you have never before. And although the ticket price is comparable to flying, you don't have to pack up your bike into a box for the trip.

After leaving home (twice) forgetting various pieces of equipment I raced to the train station to be on my 7am train. Breakfast consisted of a Charlies Refresher drink, which is yum by the way, and a Nashi Pear, what I would like to think of as the most thirst quenching of all the fruits.

The train was not at all empty as I had imagined. In my mind I had an entire carriage to myself to sprawl across with my bike. Instead, it turns out it is set up exactly like an airplane with numbered seating (not any more spacious than a plane) and my bike had to get packed away with all the commoners' luggage. Now this thought frightened me, that my bike would be out of my sight. I waited and watched them load it on personally, to make sure she was tucked in just right.

Well, the train hadn't got as far as Hamilton and we hear there has been a derailment and we will be hoarded onto buses to National Park. Not only did this mean that I would miss out on half of my soul-searching train journey, but it meant that once again, my bike had to be manhandled and crammed under a smelly (and super retro) bus.

This time my bus left before I could observe my bike being safely loaded. So I made a quick prayer to the bike gods and forgot about it as much as possible. Buses suck, compared to trains. But I still got to see parts of the road (that I have driven a hundred times before) in a new light. I saw rolling pastures and riverbanks and factories that I have never been given time to appreciate as I zoom by in a car.

the wait at National Park was horrible, it took hours, but finally we were off. the train, having just come from Wellington, was facing the wrong way which meant all the seats were facing to Auckland, while the train was travelling to wellington - all the passengers were forced to face backwards. Not being one to appreciate this backwards way of viewing life, I headed for the outdoor deck, which it turns out is a little caged space no bigger than a bathroom.

Anyway, as the train finally departed, the deck proved its radness. The train rockets along at almost 100km/hr and it is more like a roller coaster ride. It was loud though. I am sure I lost just a little of my hearing. We passed over gorges and rivers and through pastures, wetlands, coastlines and forests. It was everything I wanted the ride to be. Me, my iPod and some time to myself. I stood on the deck for all of 6 hours until we arrived in WEllington slightly behind schedule as night set in.

Mom was there for a work trip, so after a race on my bike down the (deserted) mainstreets of town I headed to Massey where there was some student art on show. As much as this was cool, I came to ride.

I soon found out where all the people hang out in the Cuba Precinct and had some food and coffee (and chocolate!) with mom and just had a good night. While mom was reluctant to share here hotel with me at first!...we crashed there and had another morning of coffee, meeting colleagues and just chilling in town.

Mom made me visit Te Papa, but again, while this was ok, I just wanted to explore. Once I saw her off in the afternoon, the journey really was allowed to begin.

I love to ride my bike in the city. I actually cannot think of anything that is more therapeutic for me at the moment. I forget about whatever, and focus on the road ahead, planning lines through cars and wondering when the light will turn yellow, and whether I will be able to slip through the gap.

Lately I have been attracted to the concept of riding my same bike, but in different cities. Something about this feels to me similar to the ship that traveled from port to port in search of whatever it pleased. I came close to getting my bike to Los Angeles earlier this year, and can't wait to (hopefully) (please coralee) take it to NYC and Toronto and Vancouver next year for Becka's wedding. In your own city, you become familiar with your surroundings. You know the cracks in the pavement to avoid, the steep hills, the timings of the traffic lights. You can forget to look up and be thankful for your surroundings. The city is a beautiful place. Millions of people's lives collide, deliberately and otherwise. You never know what will happen, and if you do, well you can just find somewhere new. There are always places that you haven't been before. And if there isn't, well then there are surely places that are changing daily. I love the port for this reason. While the park can stay the same, the pigeons, the fountain - the port is different all the time. Even more so, the port is always alive!

Where was I, yeah, So new city fun. I explored til late. There was a hardcore show going on, Antagonist, from Auckland, even some friends of mine were down for it. Only, call me silly, but I'm too scared to turn up to a show of 15year old punk kids alone. Cam didn't txt, so while I was outside the show, and could hear the music, had the $7 cover charge in my pocket ready, I never went in. Instead I booked in to the backpackers and cruised around some more.

I'm not sure if it's because wellington is more compact, or what, but all the nightlife seems to happen in a small area. I rode around into the early hours, in much the same way as I love to do in auckland, watching drunk people try and hook up, seeing people trade drugs and just enjoying the freedom of flying by them on my bike.

I found the skatepark that night too. Managed to truly waste my bike, using the sweet bowl ramps and whoop-de-do rollers and stuff. I wish someone had been there to take a photo of the trackbike in the skate bowl. I tried unsuccessfully to do so myself.

So I crept in to my backpackers dorm and crashed for the night.
After checkout I was ready for another day of riding.
I've been writing for a while now eh, I dont expect many people to really still be with me.
Today I went further afield. Rode some amazing tunnels. Mashed some crazy hills. Went far from town and back and around the coast and just pedalled until I couldn;t anymore.

Back in town I sure deserved lunch. Plum cafe on Cuba Mall made such a nice breakfast with mom the day before I got one again. Yum. Veggie Plumster. Get one. seriously.

So I could have stayed another night, but my legs could barely move. I felt as though I had seen the wellington I wanted to. The alleys, the old buildings, and the choice hills to bomb. I picked up my rental car relocation, complained to them about charging me ridiculous insurance and set off for home.
I hate driving.
More so, I hate driving at night,
To top it off I was driving alone, and in the rain. It was boring. But after sitting on my butt for 7 hours around abouts I made It home

Only, I couldn't sleep. I wasn't ready to be back.

Wellington was all I wanted it to be. Although it's probably not the grown up thing to do, I hope I continue to run in the face of the things that weigh me down.

For those three days I managed to forget about $1500 phone bills and $19,000 weddings. I was able to ride, and marvel at how red the organic capsicums were, and how intricate asparagus flowers are. I had breakfast on the wharf early in the morning. my heart shivered when I breathed in a realised that the water was not moving at all.

My train journey took me past a massive wind farm.
It reminded me of driving across California with Tilly

I thought of Japan, where you could be in a train across the country and never really leave the densely populated urban areas. How different is that to my journey where I barely saw anything but green. I am reminded of how differently we live. And how much I need to live differently in order to stay alive. To retain this feeling.

I think to myself how often in conversation we can say things that are worthless. Things that do nothing but fill space. Discourage. Offend. Or do nothing good at all. I aim to only speak positive, uplifting words of encouragement. Thoughtful words that force people to question what we think of as normal, right. There is not enough time available here to waste on...

It's ironic how beautiful the gorse plants are. In full bloom. Brightest yellow. Yet they are prickly and considered a pest.

I'm beginning to feel ready to get back and finally finish this thing..and start something new.

I really don't know how to narrate a good story.
Believe me. In my mind everything is a certain way.
The challenge is to be able to get this stuff out in a way that you might see, even for a moment, how i see.

For years now this has been on my mind. Probably the minds of many artists and novelists etc too.

I felt rested. For a moment. And now that I am back, while it doesn't feel much different, I know that I had a great time. And my desire to do it again has not been subdued, rather, it has only intensified. Time for a trip to the big apple?

thanks for being there for me.
I'm learning what it means to be human. And what's more, for the most part at least, it is pretty choice.

XO