New Zealand

New Zealand continued to teach me a lot of important lessons and offered me so many memorable experiences. Since meeting Niamh and Gareth, my Frienz friends only multiplied. Once the group grew to about 6, we made many excursions together.

We went to see the Auckland war museum. I spent hours in this museum, marveling at the beautiful exhibits and learning about how New Zealand's indigenous Māori culture thrives to this day in modern New Zealand. My favorite exhibit in the museum was the Māori council meeting house. The building was moved into the museum and visitors were allowed to walk around inside and admire all of the intricate carvings on the wall. The museum was loud and busy, but upon stepping into this warmly lit room I was instantly overcome with a sense of peace. For a while, I was the only one standing deep in the wooden temple. The craftsmanship required to create such a beautiful place baffled me. The rest of the museum was amazing as well, with exhibits on the volcanoes that formed the islands, ceramics and mummies from all around the world, detailed maps and stories from Māori mythology, and finally the Second World War from New Zealand's perspective. I walked back from the museum with Gareth and Nina after discovering the electric scooters we rode there had since been claimed by other museum-goers.

On another day, I took a ferry to Waiheke Island with Hagar, Sophie, Niamh, and Laura; from Israel, England, Ireland, and NZ respectively. We rented bikes and headed down the island roads towards main street. All but me and Laura had booked a zipline ride further down the road, but I decided instead to explore the little island town and relax a bit. Initially, I hoped to get a massage. This plan was rearranged when I found out that all the spas and massage studios on the island just happened to be closed that day. Instead, I went shopping with Laura, had some drinks by the beach, and got a quick tarot card reading inside of a beautiful little shop called Greatest Friend. After the ziplining was done, we joined back together and rode our bikes through the pouring rain to a small fish and chips restaurant with no indoor seating and a small bench out front.

During nearly every free moment I spent with this group, we found ourselves playing a game called 21. Shout out to Gareth for introducing this game on the first night. For anyone who doesn't know the rules, the group counts up from 1 to 21 one at a time rotating clockwise. When 21 is reached, the person who said the final number gets to make a rule: "replace the number 15 with a tap on your head", for example. Niamh became quite fond of replacing a number with the name of one of it's neighboring numbers, producing ridiculous sequences like "One, two, five, eggs benedict, six, seven, seventy seven, nine, nine." If anyone makes a mistake, they start again with one. The game brought us so many laughs and just as many frustrated outbursts, but there was no better feeling than completing the sequence with no mistakes.

Once I became ready for some more alone time, I took the recommendation of my new local bestie Ashten and took the 2 hour trip south to the Waitomo Glowworm Caves. When I got there, I discovered my tour group consisted of me, a couple from Ireland, and the tour guide. We started the adventure by abseiling (rappeling) down a deep narrow hole into a dark cave under the earth. We ziplined into the belly of the cave and then plunged into the freezing cold water carrying inner tubes to sit on. Because of the small size of our group, we got to explore deeper into the cave than most other groups with our extra time. Our guide, Katie, was very knowledgeable about the science of the cave and the bioluminescent larvae that lit up the cave ceiling. She held a perfect balance between keeping it professional and goofing around with us in the cold water. We climbed up the faces of two waterfalls to some narrow tunnels that brought us back out of the cave. The whole experience was so surreal and probably the most fun I had all week. After the tour had ended, I drank some warm tomato soup with my new Irish friends who ended up driving me in to the nearest town so I could catch my bus. By the time the bus arrived on schedule, I was so relieved that New Zealands public transport finally came through. I got on the bus with no further questions and almost immediately fell asleep.

When I woke up, I decided to check my location on my phone to track my progress. Of course, the map revealed to me that I was now about 6 hours south of Auckland- I had gotten on a bus going in the completely opposite direction. After some deep breaths, I took the unexpected detour like a good sport and had a delicious chicken burger off the next stop. I walked around and got to know my next home for the forseeable future: the cozy town of Taumarunui. I did some investigative research. The next bus to Auckland would leave at 2pm the next day. There didn't seem to be any taxi companies with service in that area, so I entered the nearest motel and asked about a taxi ride back home. Naturally, at 3 dollars a kilometer a 300 kilometer taxi ride would have cost me nearly a thousand. No thanks. A room at that same motel, however, was a little more manageable. After exploring a little and comparing the prices of some other rooms, I decided the Alexander motel was the one. While the delay wasn't ideal, I embraced the spirit of adventure from the moment I got off the bus. By the time I stepped into my private motel room carrying my breakfast basket for the next morning, a cheeky smile took up my whole face. That is, not before I walked into the wrong room and looked down the hall to see the lady from the front desk, frantically yelling to me that she had given me the wrong key. My experience in the motel room was healing to say the least. I closed the curtains, turned on the TV halfway into an episode of Below Deck, and basked in the silence of a room which contained only me. Back at the hostel, my giant 12 person room would have to be ok without me.

I'm aware that I'm starting to fall behind with my posts. There's so much going on (all good don't worry) that it's hard to find the time to sit down at my computer. I suppose that's a good thing. Some of you may know I'm already in Bali, but for the sake of storytelling I'll be making one more post about New Zealand before I dive into Indonesia. That will also give me some more time to settle in here.

I'm thinking about everyone back home and everywhere else! I appreciate all the times you guys reach out to me. Know that just like the blog, any lack of correspondence over text or anywhere else is not personal. It just means I'm having heaps of fun and am still learning how to manage my time. More than anything, this trip has never stopped teaching me important life lessons much bigger than just how to travel. I remind myself that if nothing else, this year will make it so much easier for me to navigate the world later in my life, because I will have gotten a nice and early start. I will remember to stay humble and grateful and welcome any (safe) experience with open arms.

Peace and love!
Jonah