February 8, 2011

It is absolutely impossible to paint the picture of what I see and where I am at the moment. I am in a pretty blue and green striped hammock in the shade with tiny pieces of warm sun poking through the surrounding plant life and hitting me softly, on the face. On an arm. There is a lovely warm breeze that fevers up the treetops so they craft a beautiful symphony - combined with the cacatas cherps - of openness, nature, peacefulness, joy and hope. I am in Hopewell, which is on a pretty desolate coast along one the hundreds of little sounds and waterways that make up the Marlborough Sound on the northern part of the South Island of New Zealand. Are you keeping up??

I am overlooking calm turquoise waters that look only like the waters I’ve seen in the Virgin Islands. But the rest of my view looks worlds away from the Caribbean. As it is.

Luscious mountains surround me as far as I can see in every direction beyond the sound. Only a few homes sit on these hills and the rest is untouched exquisiteness. I can see a boat that’s been brought onto land but that is really the only sign of human life anywhere. There are luminous birdsongs and one lone seagull suspended in the light winds at the shoreline.

Inside my little hammock I am on my laptop (!) (SHAME!) and enjoying a glass of New Zealand Pinot which tastes lovely, as the lightness and delicateness of the wine perfectly fit in with my surroundings. I am reflecting on the kayaking we did this morning on these lovely waters.

This is a stark contrast from last night. After taking a 3-hour windy ferry from Wellington (on the southern tip of the north island) to the south island we drove into the sounds to a basic campsite which offered a flat place to sleep right on the waters and a picnic table. The rest we had to wing, which would have been much easier if it didn’t start downpouring right after we erected the tent in the early afternoon. Being the master campers we are we were perfectly protected from the cyclone surrounding us in Dean’s huge rain-proof, yet incredibly well-ventilated, tent. From what I could tell the well-ventilated part was a huge selling point for him, so I’ve got to give a shout-out to the ventilation. Woop woop!

We went to sleep pretty early, as we have been so far each night, and also woke up before 7... AS WE HAVE BEEN. This is nonsensical for me because I love to sleep late. But even on Sunday I woke at 6 and went for a jog to watch the sunrise. What the hell is that all about!?

Speaking of, Saturday we were in Rotorua (N Island) and went to a great festival, Raggae-muffin. The raggae was really good and while we grooved I sat in slight culture-shock (really culture-adjustment that overwhelmed my thoughts). It was mostly early-20s Mauris (Mauris are the ‘Indians’ of New Zealand and in Rotorua 35% of the population). They look Hawaiian a bit. They are beautiful and dark-skinned with beautiful features. The women have really big bellies. The men seem much skinnier and toned than the women. Another score for me. ;)
There we stayed in a hostel that was noisy all night and reminded me I’m old.

I am traveling with a very handsome Dean who I met in Barcelona through my friend Richard in October. We don’t know each other well and I swear if you bumped into us here, in this blue-green water-surrounded heaven, you’d never know we were nearly strangers. Traveling with anyone is a bit scary, and traveling with someone you just got a good vibe from can range from really fun to suicidal. Luckily we are floating on the really fun side and we are enjoying the easiness of being remote with nothing scheduled… no where to be, no one to see, nothing to do… our only task is to enjoy every moment and every piece of this earth we are exploring, and to laugh, respect, and relax. And for that, I am so grateful. And putting away the technology.

Peace xo

January 17, 2011

I’m sitting on a Lufthansa flight from Orlando to Frankfurt, and then BCN. 2 glasses of wine and a xanax in and my heart is still aching. I had a great time with my parents, spending a month in Hernando with them, living in their rental house with my puppy and kitty. My heart breaks leaving all of them. Although I didn’t grow up there, it is my ‘home’ in the states now, and after this month it really does feel like home. Waking up, walking the dog, then stopping in to see my parents and have a coffee. Then going back to my place and going for a hike with the dog. Then going home, cooking something super healthy and fresh. Then heading to the rents for happy hour, which sometimes starts at 3. I guess this is what life is like when you’re retired. Unfortunately my mid-life crisis and pseudo retirement is ending soon since I don’t have the savings to do this forever. But I do have a lot to look forward to and now I know. Doing yoga overlooking the slowly flowing lake, with birds bobbing for food while the dog looks ridiculously confused at me and then gently sniffs and licks me while I’m trying to meditate. It really is a little piece of heaven.

Tomorrow I will be in a new apartment I’ve never seen in a new neighborhood of Barcelona. I love change. Today my feelings are bittersweet. I am pained but what I am leaving. I am a little nervous about living in a new place. I’m also pretty excited about learning about a new hood and meeting new people. It feels good to feel. I feel loved and blessed at the moment. My heart is intact. The next few months bring more travel and adventure, and hopefully love and not heartbreak. To be continued.