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While spending four months living the life of a city dweller in Wellington, I constantly felt the draw of the South Island. Subconsciously I put it off. I told myself it was inconvenient, and it was too much money to visit for just a weekend or a week. I had plenty of time. Besides, I knew that I couldn't just visit the South Island. I had to live it.
Living in Wellington, snuggled up to the dining room table with a coffee in hand, I spent endless hours filling out job applications. For each application, I spent an average of five hours perfecting a cover letter. I would reorganize my CV for each one, highlighting appropriate skills and deleting others where necessary. The jobs I chose to apply to were ones that I craved to fill. Grown up jobs with titles such as Regional Conservation and Volunteer Manager, Marketing and Communications Co-ordinator, and Refugee Trauma Recovery’s Programs and Service Coordinator. I wanted to use my skills in project management and coordination to have a positive impact on the lives of others. I want to be an active and contributing member of my new community and to be a part of
an organization whose work I was passionate about.
After weeks, I had not received a single reply. After moping around the house feeling inadequate and lost, my kiwi flatmates Mike and Jodi, told me that it is not uncommon to wait months before hearing back from a job. In fact, Jodi's current job was offered to her almost three months after she applied for it. By the time she got the call, she had forgotten that she had even submitted an application. New Zealanders take their time.
Up to six weeks after submission, I received rejection letters from every single job. Disheartened, I looked for not so professional positions. I applied to serve food at a restaurant down the street and clean two houses each week for elderly women. I also applied to teach classes as an aerial instructor, and even responded to an ad looking for a lingerie model at $80 an hour.
The only one to call me back and offer me a job was the lingerie modeling.
In the wake of my flatmates moving out of the apartment, my failed job hunt, Jhene heading to Fiji, and my potential career as
a lingerie model, I knew it was time to move on. I sold my bed, donated my cute teacups and candle holders, and packed everything else I owned into my car.
I am once again a vagabond on the road. This time headed to the South Island.
At 6:00 am on a morning in early April, I loaded the final items into my car and headed to the Inter- Islander Ferry terminal. For $174, we were both headed for Picton. Standing on the top lookout deck, I watched Wellington slither into the hills as we made our way to the harbor. I was usually always on the other end looking out. The reverse perspective was invigorating. As we passed by the houses speckled on the hills of Island Bay and Owhiro Bay, I remember my long walks and picnics on their rocky shores. Only a fifteen minutes from my house, I could go and feel the fresh breeze from the sea and hear the music of the crushing tide. It allowed me to feel alone and at peace in the city. The reverse perspective was invigorating, and I felt the excitement build in me. I am
Emerald water
(I feel like I am back in Alaska!)headed off on a new adventure.
Though you can see the south Island from the North Island, the ferry ride takes about three hours. As the crow flies, it is 44 miles (70K) from Wellington to Picton. As we approach the South Island, the ferry navigates its way through the Queen Charlotte Sound as if holding the secret key to a labyrinth. The landscape shifts drastically from rocky pillars shooting out of the water to soft green hillsides. Rich evergreen trees touch the base of the emerald green water just kilometers from where bare skeletal trees cover a dry hillside.
The North Island confused me with its breathtaking beauty. I can see that the South Island will push my standards of natural beauty even further.
Once in Picton, my car and I are efficiently on the road in no time: headed the wrong direction. Taken back by the inland scenery I can't bring myself to turn around for at least 30 minutes. Once back on track, my next path weaves along a road around the sounds. At each turn, I can't believe that what I am looking at is real. The greens. The bursts of
The faithful iron horse
Drove two and a half hours to Motueka from Picton. fall colors. The clouds shifting in and out of the mountains across the sounds. The blue and emerald of the water. The Pukekos and their monstrous chicken feet crossing the road. And the sheep: even after living in New Zealand for five months I still get flutters in my stomach at the sight of fluffy sheep. I take my time on the drive, stopping to absorb the scenery.
I am headed to Motueka to WWOOF on a lifestyle block for four weeks.
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taracloud
Tara Cloud
The road to a new adventure!
Excellent move! While those jobs you applied for sounded fantastic, WWOOFing and exploring that glorious South Island seem outrageously wonderful too. When I opened your blog and saw your map (thanks for including it) and that incredible route, I knew we were in for a great ride. How lucky that you happened on that adorable hostel--surely, a sign of good things to come. Best wishes!