Fush and Chups - Two months in Aotearoa New Zealand

One of the main attractions in Taupo is access to the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, a epic 'must do' one way trek between volcanic craters. And a decision, i.e. was I going to do it? For the carless, the trek involved paying 120 dollars for a shuttle bus to pick you up at 5.10am, to drop you off at the start at 7am, then walking for what was billed as 8-9 hours. It featured such delights as a 'hard ascent', followed by a 'difficult ascent' up something nicknamed 'the devil's staircase'... and then a 'steep descent' followed by 'easy descent' and culminating in a further 2 hours of 'long descent'. God. I had absolutely no idea at all whether I was fit enough to do it. I couldn't remember the last time i'd even walked for an hour non-stop! Agh. Dilemmas, dilemmas, and no one to share my worries with. The hostel man on reception had said 'ah you'll be fine!' but without a glance at my physique or further question...

I needed to get to the South Island, fast! Rumours were that the sun was shining there and everyone was having a great time. An intercity bus took me to the next stop south.  Arriving in Rotorua I decided to walk from the bus stop to the hostel. This 9 minute stagger with my 14 kilo rucksack nearly did for me. I felt my leg bones disintegrating within. This however was a 4 minute improvement on my last PB, which was 5 minutes. I don't think the bag is going to get any lighter, so I'll have to beef up. I was only in Rotorua for one night, and happily I'd booked myself onto a tour of the geothermal Maori village that afternoon. Still raining hard, so the waterproof trousers, jacket and walking boots got their first outing.  Our Maori guide had a distinctly pissed-off tone for the duration of the tour. Hard to know if this was because it was pouring with rain, the endless stupid questions tourists like to ask, or just her general manner.  ' Look folks, don't put your h...

Luckily the international arrivals terminal was operational again post-terrible-flooding, and apart from a section of squishy floor you couldn't tell it had more recently resembled a paddling pool. After a late arrival, I woke the following day in the airport hotel to more pouring rain and another long-imagined hotel swimming pool opportunity that wasn't going to happen. Everything outside was wet, the sky grey, the air humid. I felt anxious about part of the city being flooded and not knowing where that was. I also realised i'd left my NZ power adapter in Malaysia so had a mini-panic about running out of phone battery and not being able to get anywhere. I think I was quite tired...  I got myself over to a a lovely hostel in the Ponsonby area, called the Verandah Parkside Lodge, and my new backpacking lifestyle began in earnest. The buzzing kitchen was full of twenty-somethings (ahem!) chatting about hikes and tents and food and bookings. We woke up to five people in our fo...

Day two was a hike in the jungle with Tracy, a lovely KL-based play therapist friend that Pippa had introduced me to. I was very excited about this, as a) Pippa is an excellent human so its a pleasure to meet any of her friends, and b) it meant getting some insight into what actually living in this city might be like.  We arranged to meet on the other side of the city, a 20 min car journey from my hostel. Getting there turned out to be an adventure in itself, as I'd decided I was going to take the local bus, which would take over an hour, taking a circuitous round-the-houses route... and I had no internet outside of wifi zones. I had to get up extra early... did some early-morning roaming of the streets, discovered you need a special pay-per-use card to get on a bus, and couldn't get on the bus I needed to take to get me there on time. Then I had to retreat back to the hostel's wifi to order an uber, which ultimately got me there 30 mins early. Oof! Slightly stressful start...

My taxi driver from the airport was a cheerful chatty Indian Malaysian man, who brought me up to speed on the current state of affairs in Malaysia. In particular the realities of living in a country run by a Malay Government, when not Malay yourself. Apparently everything is weighted in favour of the Malay people in Malaysia, so Chinese and Indian students have to gain higher scores in school than Malay students, to be on an even footing. Malay people are able to buy property at less cost, and are able to borrow money on more favourable terms. However, despite our tanking economy and the embarrassment that is Brexit, taxi driver man said if he was going to leave Malaysia then London would be his number one choice of destination. He dreams of living in a meritocracy where skills and effort are rewarded fairly. Wow. Can't believe we've still got it. People in my bubble are so busy lamenting the latest Tory misdeeds that its easy to lose sight of the plus points; we still live in ...

Departure day arrived: I woke up to read the news that Auckland was flooded with unprecedented climate breakdown related rains. Man. I know we are seeing heatwaves and floods in the UK too, but i'd been harbouring a growing fear in recent years that travelling further afield is a riskier business, and lo and behold, I hadn't even landed and it had begun. I had a final lunch with my mum before catching the tube to Heathrow. All packed, and after what felt like weeks of agonising over how many trousers to bring, a cack-handed waiter managed to smash a glass of red wine all over me. Aargh no... 'You stupid man' I wanted to shout at him; 'I am not like normal people...I am now a TRAVELLER! I have to wear these trousers for the next 15 hours!'. They were alright in the end. Khaki turns out to be an ideal colour for going to war. I mean, abroad. The flight was fine, the seat next to me empty so had half a seat extra to spread out into as I tried to sleep. Every couple...