A Walk To Remember

Day two began early, and I was surprised to find myself actually excited about the prospect of getting up before double-digit AM. Will planned for us to drive about an hour north to an area called Matakana and "see what we can see." We were joined by two of his opera buddies, Sam and Warren (good folk, even for kiwi standards).

It turned out to be an incredibly beautiful day (again, even for kiwi standards) so we decided we'd first check out a local farmer's market at the center of town. It was reminiscent of a county fair - little children running around with handfuls of lollies (kiwi-speak for "candy"), vendors displaying their fresh fruit & produce, and old men jamming out to polka-esque tunes (I was surprised to see a banjo in their ensemble). There was even a man painted in a shade of tarnished copper, meant to look like a statue. It was only after I was two feet away that I realized it wasn't, in fact, a statue. Drop a coin in the basket next to him and he'd perform a little jig for you (once, even, he managed a pretty impressive robot).

After we were content with having seen what the market had to offer, we hopped back in the car and headed a little further north to Tawharanui Park - pronounced "Ta-Fa-Ra-New-E." The native Maori decided "wh" should signify a "fah" sound. Admittedly, this irked me more than it should have.

We arrive at Ta-fa-ra-new-e and immediately decide on a hiking route we'd like to take. Will, our trusty guide, decides to set us up with a 7k (approx 4.3 miles) walk around the park that should give us a view of everything the area's geography has to offer. With stops (both to bask in the natural beauty, as well as swig some much needed H2O because my skinny ass gravely needs to make friends with a treadmill), it would take around three hours.

We began our hike in good spirits, full of energy from the near-perfect weather. In short, during those three hours I saw more of what New Zealand had to offer in its stunning beauty than I'd seen in the two years I'd lived here as a young teen. The geography runs the gamut of terrain, from luscious, lime-green fields to thick, hunter-green forest meshed with crystal-blue beaches and jagged, charcoal-black slopes scattered about. It's as if God couldn't make up his mind what to color New Zealand, so he used the whole Crayola box.

What surprised me the most, and I truly found fascinating, was how my three other amigos reacted to the sights of the day. Each of them seemed just as taken aback by the sights as I did. Each of them openly exclaimed exactly how I felt - how simply gorgeous everything surrounding us was. That, I believe, is what sets kiwis apart from the rest of the world that I know. They understand and appreciate all the beauty around them. They don't take it for granted or become numb to its breathtaking power. I felt like I was sharing something entirely new with these other natives, and a part of me was extremely proud to have the opportunity to be around such good people. But, also, I think I was able to fully grasp how blessed and lucky I was to be in that moment, in a place where the magic doesn’t fade.

We made it back to the car in just over three hours. We all congratulated each other; all feeling a bit accomplished having completed this mini adventure. Everyone agreed it was time to eat, so we drove about a minute down the road to a mutual friend of the three (and member of their opera group) who, conveniently, was staying at their summer batch (a term that I best understood as a beach home, or getaway that seems to be shared by several members of a family). The woman, Emma, owned a home in this fascinating gated community that lined a little beach cove. Before filling our stomachs, we all put on our togs (kiwi speak for swim trunks) and dove in. Well, to be honest, I sort of tip-toed a few feet out, trying not to look like a total wimp for being put-off by what I'd considered cold water. Sam shouted out, "All you Yanks really are a bunch of pansies, huh?" I was, apparently, the stand-in representative for all U-S-of-A for the time being. Having to save face, and make sure ole' Liberty didn't look bad, I dove in with the rest.

We ended the evening with a saliva-inducing barbecue, consisting of the spare ribs and sausages Will had bought a day earlier, and some of the tastiest bell peppers you can imagine that Warren purchased at the farmer's market. Throw in some good conversation and good wine, and you've got yourself about as complete a day as one could ever hope to have (oh, don't let me forget to mention the banana and melted chocolate over vanilla ice cream for dessert).

I originally came to New Zealand wanting to find out more about myself. I wouldn't dare imply that one must travel across the world to discover things about themselves they wouldn't discover otherwise, but I'd personally be hard spent developing such perspectives in the town that I call home. Seeing the excitement in my friend's eyes at their own green wonder, listening to the laughter and feeling the joy of these people I'd just met, and doing it all in what still feels like a foreign utopia ... it’s difficult not to feel at peace. Compete, uninterrupted, peace. I think it's almost necessary, for me at least, to step aside from the norm, the expected, and the assumed, and give myself time to discover what truly matters, what truly makes me happy.

I’d better end the over-nostalgic here, as it's getting a little late and the night tends to leave me a bit moonstruck. In summary, I'm having a blast. I hope I haven't appeared to boast or brag, but I really want to try and articulate what a genuinely good experience I've had in this short amount of time.

With Peace,
John