I want to write down in my diary that we went home. But we just went back to Wellington.
Elena, the last of the ‘Famous Five’ who hasn’t left Wellington, and I were in Hastings, visiting my old flat. And just then, no 12 hours after holding the loved ones over there tight, I find myself on the water between the North and the South Island.
The sea of lights, bidding Wellington one last farewell.
Now there is no house in New Zealand I can call home.
I am on my way by car. My plan: Travel to Queenstown and find a job offer for a skilled electronics technician.
Queenstown is said to be stunning. Who knows, maybe soon enough I will call that beautiful spot a home…
The visit in Hastings was outright wonderful! Being a guest where you formerly worked and lived for real, seeing the flatmates, being happy about the reunion, petting all the animals around the house, seeing the apple trees all naked and leafless. There was the feeling I only knew from my childhood, memories of a summer night with the family; where the greatest sorrow is the parents who will call for departure. Feeling carefree, feeling secure…
Not many New Zealand travellers will know how it feels to truly come back to a place. For that you have to have lived there for a while and return after some time. During a journey, this is priceless.
Even more tasty it gets when you can share the experience.
Just like a roadtrip with friends on a weekend or with a good friend or now, heading out of Christchurch alongside a French and a German girl, to get to Queenstown in three days’ time.
Marvel yourself at the splendorous South Island:
Mountains and streets.
Mountains and meadows.
Mountains and lake (Lake Tekapo).
Unbelievably beautiful, humongous, snowcapped mountains.
But the greatest moment was, when the cyclist I passed turned out to be Lea. She was one of the ‘Famous Five’ and travels the South Island by bike now. Without arranging anything, having only thoughts of solitude on my mind and out of the blue you get on of the most special kinds of encounters:
