Valeda Scribbles

Before it gets lost amongst the new memories and experiences that are going to keep accumulating by the day like the snow did this winter, I’ve got to capture all of the amazing from the last two weeks in Greece with Mom. First off, in case anyone reading this doesn’t already know (which is unlikely), I got DAMN lucky by being born to the most inspiring, driven, caring, fun, age defying mom out there. So when she asked if she could maybe join me in my travels, I didn’t hesitate for a second. Then she proceeded to dive into research and with only having traveled internationally once before, proceeded to develop an incredible itinerary that perfectly balanced ancient history with active time in nature, city time with serene escapes, tourism with culture immersion. First we spent a day amongst the awe-inspiring monuments of ancient Athens, making our way through the Acropolis, which was essentially the city’s royal temple and celebratory grounds. From there we saw the ancient Agora, the first ever “market place” that all future western civilizations would come to be based on. We saw the first Olympic stadium and buzzed through the Acropolis museum. In all we walked about 12 miles on Day 1 and capped it in one of the adorable streets full of cafes with tables spilling out to the streets with local Grecians drinking & dining all night long.
Aside on history and Athens – A couple years ago I experienced my first “history high” when visiting Naples & Rome, yet the lavish city of Athens was buzzing millennia before Rome was even established, resetting the bar that would be pushed ever higher as the trip progressed. The more I learn and spend time in the remains of ancient civilizations, the more I appreciate them and recognize that 2000, 4000, even 9000 years ago we were not so different than we are today. Not only at our human core, but even when it comes to daily life. Sure, technology has evolved, but the elements of our daily lives are essentially the same. We work, gather and prepare food, clean, raise families, teach our children, socialize with friends and family, celebrate, have sex, imbibe, travel and play. Rather than look at the advancement of civilization as a straight line ever increasing, it seems to me that we have periods throughout human history where we rapidly advance and grow but then experience setbacks and a halt or even decline in progress and quality of life due to war, religion, over population, decline in health, or as is the case now, commercialism. I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing though, who knows what development and flourishing cultures the next millennia or two will bring?
Day 2 in Athens brought a walking tour with a local volunteer guide who accompanied us for a couple hour stroll through some lesser traveled streets and her favorite neighborhoods; a more intimate view of Athenian life. Later that evening Mom had the genius idea of reserving a dinner table on one of the many rooftops with a view of the Acropolis lit up at night, so I’d called for a table at GH Attikos, steps from our hotel, and the night that ensued was nothing less than “θεσπέσια” (pronounced “thespecio”, the word for “delightfully great” that our waiter taught us. The food: moussaka (one of my top 5 favorite foods in the world) and the local bolognagse were decadent. We became fast friends with our aforementioned waiter Yannis (who actually pouted us some wine leftover from a table that had departed). We capped the evening watching the full moon raise of the Athenian hillsides.
 

The next day we made our way to the island of Naxos and after our 3 hr ferry ride were greeted by the perfect white village spilling over the shore, a scene captured on every grecian postcard and a million instagram shares. It really does look that storybook. That color blue really does exist without a filter! We made our way through the Labyrinth of the walled capital city, and after a handful or two of wrong turns eventually came across our rental which we soon discovered had the best rooftop patio in town. We got lost a little more, walked along the waterfront, and spent the necessary time understanding the cryptic bus schedule for our next days journey…
So after getting up at slightly past the crack of dawn, the next day we made our way back to the bus station, and after we were joined by the local kids headed to school, ascended the windy narrow inland roads to arrive at the Mt. Zeus trailhead. Mom and I climbed past natural springs and caves, scrambling the lesser traveled trail to the summit, encountering only goats on our ascent. After spending a few windy minutes and taking an obligatory selfie, we made our way back to the base via the standard route and realized that’s where all the people were! We walked back to the nearest town, and to the next town, where we found a perfect cafe nestled in the old city’s main square to split a roasted pepper “pie” (wrapped in phyllo”. We then hopped the bus for our next stop, the ruins of Demeter, stunning white pillars set against the island countryside. Then we hopped back on the bus, and after watching the sun go down from our balconyhad a fairly mellow evening back in Hora. The next day we took out a pair of bikes for a cruise down the coastline and past numerous white sandy beaches before it was time to hope the ferry to our next destination: Amorgos!
 

The ride over was stunning – especially the Anakoufonisi island group, A newfound tourist destination looking across to an uninhabited island with cliffs that rose directly out of the water. We cruised into the sleepy port of Katapola on Amorgos to see our AirBnB host’s father, Constantinos, leaning up aside a post with a handwritten 8″ x 11″ sign reading “VALEDA”. He grabbed our bags and delivered us to our oh-so-perfect abode with a veranda overlooking the harbor complete with hammock and padded benches, and we knew we would be quite all right calling this home for a few nights, even before leaving us with a bottle of his homemade Raki. After spending sufficient time taking it all in and watching a spectacular sunset, we made our way down the few steps to the restaurants on the water for a while grilled fresh fish and couscous with loca fruits and goat meat.
The next morning we got back to putting miles under our feet. We were dropped off at the outskirts of the old city and made our way down to Hozoviotissa Monastery, a church built into the hillside about 2000 years ago hanging over the turquoise Aegean. We stopped by the timy beach at the base of the cliff, then started our trek following the path over the ridgelines down the island, a route that has been utilized for millennia. We passed numerous white washed churches perched on hilltops, cabes providing shade for herds of goats, ruins from towns long ago, and a multitude of view points straight out of instagram. Hours later we arrived in the port town of Aegiali and had ourselves a leisurely seaside snack before hailing a cab back to our seaside home.
——
Before I forget, we got pretty good at rudimentary greek, thanks to the cheat sheet Mom prepared. So far in Bulgaria I slip and habitually use the vocab after using it regularly for two weeks! That night we took advantage of the kitchen in our apartment and had mom’s leftovers & Constantino’s Raki for dinner. Having quiet nights in a comfortable home are underrated when you’re on the road all the time!
Amorfos – Beautiful
Thespecious – Incredible
Neh – Yes
Ya – Hi
Ya Sou – Hello, Cheers
Efhoristo – Thanks
Signome – Sorry, Excuse me
Kali Mera – Good Morning, Good Day
Kali Spera – Good Afternoon
Kali Nichte – Good Night
—–
The next day we took a “leisurely” stroll up the hillside the explore the old city, another network of seemingly even more maze-like passageways, and apparently intentionally so to protect its inhabitants. After a lunch including the educational experience of peeling whole cooked shrimp, we decided we hadn’t had enough hiking yet that day so we walked up to the ancient Minoa settlement, inhabited from 1000 to 400 BC, and instead of going back down the trail we’d ascended, we took a “shortcut” and bushwacked our way down from the peak through bushes and brambles on an approximately 40 degree slope. Have I mentioned how much I appreciated that my mom and travel partner is equally as up for adventure and exploration? I can’t imagine travelling with the average almost-64 year old American!
 

We were on the ferry before daybreak the next day and watched the sunrise from the boat. It was another beautiful trip, but the entrance into Santorini was a rude awakening from the serenity of Amorgos. Apparently Greece is experiencing the same social unrest common the world over, and the lower and middle class workers are protesting for better wages and benefits. No better opportunity to make their voices heard than when a ferry full of hundreds (maybe thousands) of tourists is exiting a ferry. The protestors on motorbikes, pickup trucks and 4-wheelers al laid on their horns and obstructed the only road leading from the port to the expanse of hotels, restaurants and shops above. This was a fairly appropriate tone to set for our stay on Santorini. The landscape of the island is stunning (its the remains of a volcanic crater, cliffs plunging to the sea at its interior and gentle slopes becoming sandy beaches on the outer perimeter. There must be a building code for all grecian islands because every structure is bone white; from afar the cliffs and hillsides appear to be snow-capped. But that’s also telling of the density of development. Over the course of our 4 nights, moments of incredible beauty and awe were interspersed with times of frustration, waiting on busses that didn’t come, constantly fighting through the hoards of other tourists in the tight streets of Fira & Oia, and annoyed attitudes from service people used to the entitled antics many visitors exude. But there are perks to the developments tourism brings, such as watching a stunning sunset over the Aegean while tasting local vintages at Santo wines. We also found that tourist dollars (or the promise thereof) enable communities to research, preserve and present archeological finds like ancient Akotiri, Greece’s Pompeii, a city deserted and buried under a volcanic eruption in 1627 BC, now uncovered and and available to visit. Perfect frescoes from the residence walls 4000 years old. Like on Amorgos, we trekked from the capital of Fira across Santorini’s cliffsides and ridgelines to the high-end tourist destination of Oia. There were others on the route but the crowds quickly dissipated just outside of city limits. We spent an afternoon kayaking the beaches of Santorini’s outer coastline, with impressive cliffs bookending the beaches. we were constantly reminded of the volcanic nature of the island, traversing from red sand beach to black sand beach, passing through an area where the rockfall exposed layers telling the tale of millennia of eruptions. We picked our own fish out of the case and ate them whole at a seaside cafe, and followed dinner(after climbing the 200+ stairs back to town) with craft cocktails and a killer live DJ. The night before our (successful) attempt to go dancing found us in Anywhere, Earth with US pop music and spring-break-esque clientele feeling anything but Grecian. (We managed to have fun nonetheless :)). I’d be a horrible human to complain about spending 5 days in Santorini. But I’m entitled tosay that Amorgos is rivledged to have its beauty yet unspoilt by crowds of tourists and stores of 4000 Euro handbags.
 

We caught a flight back to the mainland, said farewell to the greek isles (I never did learn how to say goodbye in greek) and spent out last night in a quaint beachside town close to the airport, more of a locals vacation spot. We ate some delicious meat, drank some too-sweet wine, and exhaled at how lucky we’d been to spend such a magical two weeks in Greece. And yes, in total we’d walked 126 miles according to Mom’s fitbit, which doesn’t account for the miles biked or kayaled, nor does it give extra credit for stairs ascended or mountains climbed. We also managed to sample the whole spectrum of grecian cuisine: moussaka, whole fish, squid, gyros, bisteca, cheeses, meats, salads, ice creams, baklava (in all its many forms), yogurt, honey, nuts, and of course wines, appertif and digestif liquors of all varieties (they’re complimentary, how could you not?) Raki, Ouzo, Mastica (my personal favorite) and all the forms of coffee beverages; mom finding an afternoon Nescafe frappe on an almost daily basis. We did good Mom! She headed back to the states and I ventured on to continue my explorations!
 

 

As mom & I are buzzing across the Mediterranean from Athens to Naxos it feels like a perfect opportunity to reflect on where I am and where I’ve been over the last seven months. And holy crap, it’s been a lot. As much as I couldn’t have predicted it all a year ago, every step along the way has felt right and exactly how it should be. What an amazing experiment demonstrating how glimmer of an idea can so soon become the life you’re now living.
Quit Job – Check
Pack life into storage space – Check
Live on boat sailing between remote islands in the South Pacific – Check
Ski bum for a winter – Check
And my goodness, what a checkbox it was! Looking back, I skiied EXACTLY 50 days this season, with a solid month straight of those being powder days. Beyond that, every ski mountain and town came with its own unique experiences, people and atmosphere. It feels almost unfair that I got that much incredible skiing in places I wanted to visit anyways. I’m not going to say it was all luck, but I couldn’t have asked for it to have evolved any better. In all I skiied 21 resorts, put about 5000 miles on the car, and had 22 legit powder days. I also wondered how good of a skier I could become if I dedicated myself to it for a season and wasn’t confined to weekends and vacations… and this just in, skiing every day DOES make you a better skier! Who knew! I think back to days at Mt. Baker at the beginning of this tour, and following locals through 1-2 feet of fresh snow a consistency unlike any I’d skied before was kinda hard at the time! Their advice: turn less, even though that face drops out of sight in a few yards and yep there’s cliffs around here but trust I’m not taking you off one right now (if you can keep up and watch my line). As the ski days racked up I got used to instantly tweaking my form for a new snow consistency, and also recognized that my skis had lost their flex so upgraded to a pair that responded again. In trees I started seeing my line 2, 3 and 4 turns ahead instead of one, and in more open terrain I stopped picking my turns and Just. Skied. Down. I never got truly fluent in French when I was in highschool, but I got to a point where certain words were no longer the translation of their english counterpart and instead they held meaning on their own. In the same vein, I started thinking skiing – no longer thinking “turn here”, “adjust your balance here”, but just responding to the snow and the slope in front of me, “thinking” less and less with every day. Seems like a perfect analogy for this journey… Have an idea, do your research and make some plans, but the less you try to “control” every move and the more you accept and respond to what comes your way, the more you’ll enjoy it and get to experience it fully.
Volunteer for and experience SxSW – Check
And on top of all that, just to make this tale even more storybook, I met this incredible man in Rossland BC, the quaintest and most authentic of ski mountain towns, during their Winter Carnival on the dance floor of a killer brass band concert that I scored tickets for an hour earlier. After 4 days in Rossland, he joined me to ski in Nelson BC for 4 days, then we met up again in Sandpoint ID for 3 days, and I swung through Rossland again for 4 more days on my way back down to the states properly capping my two-month tour through the Northwest. And then we roadtripped from Denver to Tahoe and back to volunteer for the WinterWondergrass music festival. And he just so happens to also be travelling through Europe this summer. There’s so much more I could say on the topic, but being that this blog is for public consumption I’ll summarize by saying I feel INCREDIBLY fortunate. Thank you Universe! For the boat, the snow, the guy, the friends, the family, the freedom, the booming Denver real estate market for (hopefully) fluffing my travel budget just a smidge… For the ability to be HERE (which literally is Greece, but figuratively is Anywhere, Earth) living, exploring, experiencing, connecting, seeing, learning, and appreciating 🙂 Onwards!

---

Initially I didn’t think I’d have much to write about during my ski bumming phase of the trip. Skiing is something best experienced, not described. But in my pursuit of powder (which I’ve successfully found – jackpot!) I’ve also discovered a plentitude of generosity which I really want to capture and share. I’ve been taken under the wing time and time again by people I’ve just chatted up on the chairlift or met at the bar. In Park City friends of friends Lindsay and Wolff set us up in their house and fed us, along with playing tour guide around Park City. At Sun Valley an older man took me around the mountain all morning while we chatted about our lives. Then at Mt Baker within minutes of walking into the bar I basically was given an open tab and offered a free room to stay in by the owner of the bar, hotel next door and restaurant down the street. Here at Red Mountain I was given a 1/2 price list ticket from sometime I met at the sold out brass band show that I stumbled onto a ticket for, and thereafter also offered a free room in their house. I’m not going to pretend that being a single female in a ski town isn’t an influence, but the generosity has always felt genuine and with no ill intention.
And the snow… Oh the snow. Every day I’ve skied over the last two weeks had been a powder day, with no signs of things changing in at least the immediate future. There’s moments where I start to think it’s losing its magic, but that thought vanishes with the very next untouched turn throwing a cloud of flakes around me.
Other highlights: great weekend in Park City with Colorado friends, being dragged up to the stage by new friends for an open mic night in Sun Valley followed up by a sweaty Tuesday night dance party, a fumbling karaoke performance in Glacier, WA (who knew the lyrics to No Diggity came so fast?), volunteering to help out bussing tables and bar-backing at that same bar, another locals mid-week dance party, this time in Whistler, showing up in Rossland, BC just in time for Winter Carnival and finding a ticket to a sold out brass band show, the free mountain host at Red that took me to his powder stashes all afternoon, and an idyllic starlight skin to a tiny hut for dinner by candlelight…
Stats so far:
Days since leaving Denver: 20
Driving days: 5
Miles driven: ~2500 (I’ll check when I get back to the car
Resorts visited: 9
Snowbird
Snowbasin
Park City
Sun Valley
Stevens Pass
Mt Baker
Whistler
Red Mountain
Days skied: 15 (one uphill at PC)
Nights slept in car: 4 (Lindsay & Wolff’s driveway, outside of Sun Valley, at base of Stevens pass, parking lot in downtown Rossland)
Nights in people’s homes: 10
Nights in hostels: 2
Nights in Whistler condo: 4
Powder days: 10
Snowbird:

Snowbasin:


Sunrise skin at Park City:



Sun Valley: Stevens Pass: Mt Baker: Whistler:


Red Mountain: Backcountry hut outside of Rossland: Ferry across Upper Arrow Lake to Revelstoke:

Preface
Oh New Zealand… What are we going to do about you. When I made up my mind to be home in Maine for the holidays and realized that the best flight options had a layover in Aukland, I figured I may as well extend my trip for a week (I’d have done more but Christmas isn’t exactly a flexible date). So yes, I was only in New Zealand for a week, and therefore limited the trip to the North Island, but it was long enough to get the jist. New Zealand is beyond beautiful. It’s less like that really smart kid in class that you admire, and more like the one that is naturally good at everything and stop-traffic beautiful, while still being super down to earth and friends with everyone. Like that time in 6th grade where I got pretty much all of the awards at our class graduation, so I made sure to act super ditzy for the two years of junior high. But apparently New Zealand didn’t get the memo, because the more time I spent there, the more they showed off that yes, they really do have it all. Volcanoes, hot springs, dramatic rocky coastlines, deserted sandy beaches, islands galore, coral reefs teeming with fish, turtles and dolphins, lush jungles, rolling green hillsides complete with vineyards, and caves with glowworms (GLOWWORMS!). But that’s just the natural features. Socially, they’re crazy progressive but aren’t full of themselves about it. Females have the right to vote since 1893, and they had their first female prime minister in 1997. Their current prime minister is 37, the youngest female head of government in the world, and even she’s beautiful. Their standard grocery stores are filled to the brim with local, organic, sustainably harvested (and crazy delicious) products. People of indiginous polynesian descent, the Maori, make up a sixth of the total population and are very prevalently represented in politics, sports, and throughout the country’s culture rather than being hidden from view. Locals all know the names of their indigenous birds and trees. Even morning pop-radio hosts are smart, witty and funny. They embrace the campervan culture and even have a yelp-esque app where you can see your closest parking options with prices, reviews and contact info. The only thing I could really find that sucked was the gas prices, and even that made sense in the effort to reduce consumption of fossil fuels and encourage the use of hybrid and electric vehicles, which looked to me to be working. So yah New Zealand, way to show off. Ugh.
——–
My first day on New Zealand was actually a bit of a cluster. I stayed at my friend Olivia’s house after arriving at the airport late the night before, which was a wonderful respite, and we had a leisurely delish breakfast out. I then headed over to pick up the campervan I rented for the week. After loading it up with my stuff and making sure my music was sufficiently connected to the stereo system, I promptly came within a couple meters of getting T-boned due to looking the wrong way when exiting from the rental agency. Apparently training yourself out of a lifetime of instinct isn’t instantaneous. In addition, apparently all of Aukland took off ontheir christmas and summer holiday that very afternoon, so I was in constant traffic(and navigating the endless chain of roundabouts) while going through my crash course (not literally thank goodness) in left side of the road driving. I got to appreciate the scenery more as I put miles between me and the city rush and took in a stunning sunset en-route. I arrived at my chosen campsite after dark, made a quick dinner/next day’s breakfast & trail lunch from my farm-stand-stop supplies, made my bed and called it a night. I dozed off while taking in the night sky through the campervan moonroof, complete with a falling star and a few satellites.
I was up before the sun the next day and the surrounding volcanic peaks were illuminated by the dawn glow, with not a single cloud trying to get in the way – a very good sign for my planned hike across the Tongariro Crossing. By 6:30 AM I was off to join the masses on the trail. Tongariro is a very popular “tramp” for both Kiwis & tourists alike, but for good reason. The hike tok me through hillsides with volcanic rubble, cinder cone skylines, and gradually up to brilliant blue, turquoise and green sulfur pools and vents. I wasn’t alone up there, but the scenery was so fascinating that my company didn’t detract from the experience.

I caught my shuttle back to town, grabbed a snack and a coffee, and headed down the road to continue my kiwi explorations (which, sidenote, I did eat the best kiwis of my life while down there. Who’da thunk?). I rolled my campervan past Lake Taupo, so massive that upon first glance I thought it was the ocean.

I made a pit stop at Kerosene Creek for a dip, which was an entire river that I’d guess was around 105 deg F. It felt glorious to lie in for about a minute or two, than was comfortable to sit in about halfway for a little while longer. My body and especially my feet thanked me for the soak after my 6 hour hike. Then in a spur of the moment change for plans, I decided to continue onto Mount Manganui to spend the night and start my tour of the Comorandel the next morning. I found a campsite and wandered out to the bustling town for a burger and a beer, and I stumbled upon this brewery that I wanted to take home with me. Before I even saw the inside of the place, I tried a few of their brews and was impressed (that’s saying a lot for this Colorado Beer Snob). The menu looked creative and delish too. I wandered around after ordering and discovered that the “inside” of the restaurant was actually set up to resemble the picnic area at a campground, complete with a DJ stand set up on a makeshift gazebo platform (playing sweet tracks too). This led to a back bar and seating area that was a legit replica of your best friend’s house. I struck up a conversation with a couple at the “dining room table”, and originally planned to take off after dinner to hike Mount Manganui for sunrise…. buuuut the music didn’t stop, the picnic tables were pushed aside and a dance party materialized, and I can. not. walk away from a dance party. There will be other sunrises Plus, I’ve looked at this from day one as not just a trip to explore mountains, coastlines and ocean reefs, but also to really immerse myself in the societies I visit and really get to know people along the way. What better way to experience local culture than a Saturday night on the dance floor? 🙂
The next morning I took the opportunity to sleep in, make breakfast, eat it on the beach (well half of it, damn seagull!) and meander through the local farmers market before continuing my Cormorandel crawl. Not far out of town I saw two young guys with oversized packs looking for a ride, so I shared my excess of space with them up the coastline. The boys, fresh out of HS in germany, accompanied me north while we would our way through the hilltops over the ocean shores below. I dropped them off just before stopping at Hot Water Beach which I mis-timed not once but twice during my trip. Apparently a couple hours before or after low tide conditions are such that you can dig a hole down to a hot spring that will fill up your private beach hot tub. But I was too early, the beach was too busy, and a little impatient to get on to the other places I wanted to see that afternoon – so next time!
From there I continued on to Cathedral Cove, just a few minutes up the road. Here, my timing was perfect. Trailhead parking is continually full in daylight hours, but it was close enough to sunset that I snagged a spot. Then I saw an overlook trail that advertised an additional 45 minute hike on top of the already 45 minute round trip walk to cathedral cove, and although the main hike route was very heavily visited, I had the overlook to myself. And this is where I stop trying to find more descriptive adjectives for the beauty of the NZed coastline. Sure, I’ve got pictures, they’re really pretty, but you should probably just go to experience the offensive amount of beauty yourself. Not only did I have the overlook hike to myself, but a bit of googling revealed that it was ok to stay parked in this lot overnight, so I stayed put, walked down to the brewery down the street for dinner and woke from my van bed to sunrise over the pacific and the rugged island-speckled coast. Have I mentioned that I kinda like vanlife?

The Cormorandel tour continued in the morning, curving around bays, over improptu isthmuses, bordering sparkling beaches, with occasional intermissions of fresh smoked mussels (yum) and roadside avocado toast with a view.

That afternoon I exited the Cormarandel and fond myself in Kiwi wine country, so as they say, when in Rome… I continued on in time for my sunset date with the Mangawhai Heads Hike. Insert more expletives for ridiculous scenery here. And once again i was by myself the whole time. Oh, and the sunset. #nofilter. I had the quaintest little campsite just over the dunes from the beach, made a killer dinner of couscous, veggies, and leftover mussels, and fell asleep once again in my happy haven.

Because – I had big plans for the next day. First, after breakfast, I made my way to the Waipu Caves, because apparently in a bunch of caves scattered across New Zealand, there’s glowworms. I didn’t know what to expect, but it sounded cool and there was a cave nearby, so why not swing by and see what all the fuss was about? I followed my gps, pulled into the campsite parking, and followed the signs to the cave. Sure enough, here’s a cave. I walked in, turned my headlamp on green-light mode so as not to hinder my night-vision, and started wandering around a bit. It was a cool cave all right, but nothing out of the ordinary caught my attention. It was right about then that something sparked my attention in the distance, so I carefully made my way deeper inside the cavern. Someone practically turned on the lightswitch – I suddenly became aware of the numerous pinpoints of light shining all around me, like constellations of stars but within arm’s reach. They were like lightning bugs, except they didn’t flicker or fly. Each one was tiny, and I went close to the cave walls where the glow was coming from to try to see the creatures emitting this light, but I could barely see the tiny bug that put on such an impressive show with her friends. It was stunning. Oh, and once again, I was in here alone. There are a couple of these caves that may have vastly more glowworms, but they’re also expensive and very heavily visited. I’ll take my experience, thanks! It would take a long exposure camera to capture the sight, or just a google search and cut and paste skills. Like this:

The glow worms and I said our goodbyes, and I was on the road again, headed up to the Bay of Islands.

I heard it was beautiful, but best seen from a boat or above. So I chose above, annnnd then figured if I was going to be up in the air in a plane anyways, why not take advantage of the situation and jump out 🙂

It had been about 7 years since I’d last skydived, and before that was college, and even this time was every bit as thrilling as the first. But sorry, no photos, I’m too cheap to upgrade to the video package and am more interested in capturing the experience firsthand. I basked in my adrenaline high that afternoon by renting a kayak and exploring the bay, stopping at beaches and caves on islands I passed. I met up with some of the staff from the skydive shop for a happy hour, then retired to my van. Ahhhhhh….




If it wasn’t clear yet, I’d been on a daily mission to stop and watch each of the sunrises and sunsets throughout my travels, which mind you were at around 5:30 AM and 8:30 PM. So the next morning I left my campsite and relocated to the beach to make my breakfast, watching the sun creep over the islands in the bay before setting South.

I was open to going where today took me, with the ultimate destination of Piha on the Western shore not far from Aukland. If the route said scenic, I took it. If there was an overlook or a detour with a view, I stopped.

Further south I passed a cidery that was just opening for lunch, perfect timing, I was hungry (and thirsty!). I got to Piha by mid afternoon after what felt like forever but was probably only an hour on some insanely windy narrow roads. I had thoughts of “this will probably be nice, but I’m not sure it’ll be any more impressive than the views I found on the Eastern coast”. But I got to the beach, and yup, stunned again.

And then… the sunset. I was all set up to watch this sunset throughout it’s departure behind the Tasman sea. As it lowered, it looked pretty convincing that a bank of clouds would obscure the view of the sun melding into the ocean. Which I would accept in the name of the”not always getting what you want” theme from a few posts ago. But then at the very last second, the clouds parted enough to see the last few glimpses of the sun over what appeared to be a far off island that I can’t seem to pinpoint on maps. It was spectacular.

I had a nightcap at the Piha RSA, the local veterans club but also the only bar open in Piha past 8, and soon thereafter called it a night.
After breakfast and a beach walk, I rolled back to Aukland to drop off my home for the week and head off to the airport. Although it was sad to be leaving NZed, like my friends on the boat I knew I wasn’t saying goodbye, just “see ya later”. I’ll be back in early spring of 2019 for sure with my parents, and I foresee New Zealand being a home for a little while in the future too. Its too offensively good not to consider…

Well, I got my wish… the day after I stayed in my bungalow writing, reading, and recouping, I awoke fresh and full of energy.  Thank goodness.  Now time to make bad decisions! (Didn’t I mention something a couple posts ago about making all the good decisions? Well, it’s payback time…)  With my health and energy returned I was eager to go check out the blue hole I’d heard about on the other side of the island.  I mentioned this to Vomalehi, and she offered to coordinate a ride, but I promptly corrected her – “oh but I plan to walk there!” Their other guests had given me rough directions and estimated it would take about 2 hours walking one way; Vuro and Vomalehi estimated more like 4.  I then occurred to me that 4 hours was closer to what I’d read in the guide book, but I felt up for an all day walk, it was all on roads after all, how bad could it be?  I assured my hosts “I love adventures!” and with that announcement to the Ni-Vanuatu gods, my fate was sealed to embark on much more of an adventure than was necessary to go visit the Malo blue hole.
The walk started out innocently enough, just a sprightly saunter down the dirt road (in flip flops of course, this is just a road afterall!).  I was elated to be up and about, and resumed the customary smile and wave with everyone I encountered along my journey.  But I had a destination in mind so I kept the pleasantries to a minimum and bounded ahead, snapping a few photos here and there at quaint homes and sparkly beaches.  I had my audiobook playing in one earbud and took in the sights while immersed in the story of the New York Post journalist who went insane for a month due to a viral infection.  Highly reccommended if you get the opportunity. Anywho, there was pretty much only one road on the island, and I followed the rough directions I was given as I encountered the landmarks of significance.  “Stay on the road at the three story house”.  Well the road takes a sharp turn inland, but I’ve got instructions so who needs to ask this nice man who waved if I’m headed in the right direction! Up the road I go, and although it goes not just inland but STEEPLY uphill, I do not hesitate, because I’ve got energy and I like hills!  After I get to the top, I figure it might be time to look at the satellite view map I’d wisely downladed and dropped a destination pin for seconds before leaving, and lo and behold I was off course by at least a mile.  So after making sure I’d ascended to the point of having the best view of the scenery below me, I turned around and headed back the way I came, again waving at the nice man working on the three story house and this time headed back along the coast in the direction of the blue hole.  After a little while I came across the school, the second landmark I was supposed to “stay on the road” for, so I continued rambling ahead, knowing from the satellite view that the blue hole was connected to the ocean by an inlet so I’d at least see that as an indication I was there.  And I kept walking, and I kept walking, and sure enough, I FINALLY came to the inlet.  Yey! It was this bright turquoise color that was stunning it itself.  I figured at this point I would find a path to access the blue hole proper somewhere nearby.  I found a faint path that soon faded into the jungle, but figured I could just follow the banks of the inlet to the blue hole.  This is where my decisions went from questionable to downright stupid.  Would I just bushwack through the forest in order to walk around my familiar lake in Maine? Not by choice! And here I am in the thick jungle on a tropical island with a cornocopia of critters I am clueless about! In flip flops!
In summary, lets just say I fought my way through dense rainforest for at least a couple hours before I realized exactly how huge this blue hole was (and therefore how long it was going to take to get to the proper access path by bushwacking) and I ended up making my way back to the road in order to get there “the easy way” after all.  This time when I encountered a few friendly locals on the path ahead, I put my ego aside and asked politely for directions to the blue hole path, and they pointed me towards my destination with a smile.  I arrived at what looked like a very pretty turqoise lake, thinking “this is nice, but not necesarily worth the hype”… until I jumped in, and found that the perfect turqoise lake not only revealed itself to be huge beyond the mangroves that masked it from full view, but it was also the temperature of bath water.  Ahhhhhh…. I soaked my struggles away, with no other humans in view, for a solid half hour, before I mustered up the effort to change out of my suit and head back down the road.  I figured at this point that I’d hop on the first car that passed (hitching rides is not only customary in this part of the world but is often offered to any pedestrian the driver should encounter), but as it turns out there was not a single vehicle heading in my direction for the entirity of the 2.5 hour walk back.  I rolled in around sunset, chuckling at my missteps with my hosts and assuring them I was ok.  My feet were destroyed from cuts, blisters, and further irritation to the collection of wounds I’d already been nursing prior to the day’s outing (things don’t like to heal quickly in the tropics).  Turns out I’d walked around 20 miles and had been gone around 8 hours.  But hey, “I love adventures!” :-p