[Even More Things] I Have Learned . . .

Jaysus. Is it that time already?

Time, time, time . . . fickle, fleeting, contrary thing that you never appreciate until it's very nearly gone. New Zealand is fourteen and a half hours ahead of Newfoundland (as of this writing), a daily reminder that time is a thing that is constantly moving ahead of you. When I left home, I had big plans, but even bigger uncertainties. Now, that entire journey is something established, a story with a definitive start and end point, and my own story must continue outside of the framework of that one. That's life though – enjoy the things that have happened, but always remind yourself that the best is yet to come. Always.

Still, I want one last look back at the past year, and the things that I'm going to take with me for all the years left to come. I've hobnobbed with Alex Trebek, climbed Mt. Doom (and thrown the Ring in it), swum with dolphins, surfed in the Pacific, trekked with llamas, gone to a sold-out rugby match, cruised through Milford Sound, meditated, bungy jumped, skydived (skydove? went skydiving?) hand-fed a giraffe, had my original artwork appear in a Lower Saxony Scouting magazine, appeared on national radio, soaked in a hot pool, found out if New Zealand has any talent or not, went from one end to the other, hitchhiked over 1000 km, drove around 3000 km on the wrong side of the road, went 38 nights without sleeping in a bed at one point, and over the course of it all, guess what, b'ys? I have learned:

• People are good. Be good to people.

• If someone asks you where you're from, and you start that answer by saying, “My parents live in . . .” that's never, ever cool.

• “Newfie” isn't always a bad word. I don't love it, and will likely never use it to describe myself, but I've heard it touted in enough different accents to be able to admit that context is everything.

• There are plenty of good reasons why someone can't travel. Still, if you say,“I'd love to travel to such and such a place, but . . .”, then you need to look hard at what comes after that but. If it starts with “I have to . . .” then you're forgetting something critical: you don't have to do anything. At all. Some smartass could say you have to breathe, but no you don't – you'll die if you don't, but that doesn't mean you have to do it. Anyway, the point is this: whether we like it or not, everyone who is reading this or ever will read this is going to be dead someday. And when that happens, the number of years it took you to finish your university degree, that job you had when you were 24, your bank account . . . none of that stuff means anything. So, if you put your life into perspective and still want to go on an adventure, then do it now, because I guarantee you you'll never be in a better state in your life than right now. And if you figure that the other stuff is more important, then that's great, I totally respect that – but stop saying how much you'd love to travel, because you've picked a different path, and coveting another one is just greedy.

• Don't ever underestimate the value of a home-cooked meal. You can put a price on instant noodles and frozen vegetables, but fresh meat in actual sauce? Ohhh buddy . . .

• Bring along a sleeping bag.

• We're heading to that town 100 km down the road? Deadly, but no, it's not an hour away.

• Things that look stupid: wide-brimmed hats and wearing your detachable daypack around the front. Things that are surprisingly practical when backpacking across New Zealand: wide-brimmed hats and wearing your detachable daypack around the front.

• I was totally present in a couple of very minor earthquakes (the biggest was a 4.9 in Hawkes Bay). Admittedly, that's not something I learned – it's more like something you're learning, I just wanted to wait until the last possible minute to admit it so no one freaked out.

• You can be in Paradise, living your dream, and still feel lower than low and want to run away back home. You can get over that and feel stronger and happier than you ever have in your life.

• WiFi is expensive in New Zealand, but you're either desperate or not creative enough if you pay a cent (if you pay for it in central Christchurch, then you're just a moron). McDonald's offers it for free, a lot of Telecom phone booths have a router, and some libraries will hook you up. If you end up in the middle of nowhere and absolutely need to check Facebook, try to find a hostel with free WiFi – it'll be worth a couple extra bucks a night.

• “Wh” is pronounced “f.” Stop laughing when people are from Whakatane.

• If you line up a job, give them a phone number.

• The only way you can master this world is to master yourself first – and that doesn't just happen. That's a lifelong process, but worth it every step of the way.

• Jealousy is the absolute worst thing you can take from listening to someone else's adventures. Inspiration is the best.

• Wheels from Degrassi is the only Canadian I've ever heard pronounce “about” like a Canadian stereotype. I don't, and I don't care what you think.

• Bourbon sucks when you have it a second time the next morning.

• If you're staying at a hostel and getting up early or coming in late, have the stuff you'll need taken out and put together so you don't have to root around, wake everyone up, and still not find everything.

• When you're packing to go on a trip like this, put all your stuff together. Then, take out one pair of jeans, one pair of shorts, and two t-shirts.

• Repeat the above step. Oh, and get rid of one of that extra pairs of sneakers too.

• As far as clothes are concerned, clean is a really rough approximation.

• I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Ruby Frost.

Either that, or I just really dig The X Factor: New Zealand

• Every farmer's paddock lock is different, and they like them like their wives: the way they found them. That's almost definitely sexist, but it's what they say down here – either way, lock the damn gate when you're done.

• In the months leading up to New Zealand, my SWAP registration was a comforting safety blanket. Within a week of arriving, I knew I could (and would) do totally without it, and will save my money next time.

• There will be a next time.

• Don't be afraid to get help from other people. There are plenty who will go out of their way, but they won't do everything for you either (or if they will, don't take it – that's a lame cop out).

• I'm ready to go to law school, to cut my hair, comb it neatly, and tuck in my shirt. But there's always going to be that part of me that was able to live out of a backpack in 2013 and eat gross (cheap) pasta, sleep on lumpy mattresses, and tramp like a nomad through New Zealand.

• There's always going to be an even bigger part of me that knows what a lucky, undeserving bastard I am.

The fact that I survived 6 and a half months in New Zealand is testament to one thing: I'm not completely stunned. The fact that I had a great time, however, is testament to the kindness of a lot of people, to whom I'm pretty grateful: Lynn Palmer and Larry Stephan, for laying the foundations; Joyce Switzar, for my first New Zealand lamb, New Zealand kumara, and New Zealand friend; Jane and Stewart Wright, for a truly exceptional welcome to a whole new world; Noah from Korea, for joining me up Mt. Doom and hitchhiking back to Turangi with me; Megan Martinello, for a night out in Wellington to regain my sanity; Shane Mckay, for the whiskey (even if you are a cheap bastard); Eva and Marcia Fantuzzi, for selling me on WWOOFing; Jennie Osborne and Ed Dodd (and Michael Caine), for the wine and escape from Blenheim; Dave Hamilton, for the view; Lindsey Le Milliere, Dorothée Schmidt, Rhys Findlay-Robinson, Anaȉs Guineberteau, and Michelle Gunton, because picking up poop each morning would have been a lot lamer on my own (and because reconvening in a different time and a different place was always awesome, from Dunedin to Milford Sound to Wellington); Mike Moore, for the bearings in Christchurch and hokey pokey ice cream; Fergus O'Byrne, Colm and Cara McGrath for the most unexpected welcome and invitation, and everyone else in Methven who helped paint the town green; the Oswalds, for a Kiwi Easter and plenty of German sweets; Rory Hannan and Mark Turner, for showing me the beauty at the edge of the world; Des Cooper, for the birthday pounamu and the lessons in spirituality; Hilary and Graeme Finnie, for the colours of the season and pints with old farts; Alan Wilson and Norma Mathieson, for the tiki tour and welcoming home; Ian Todd, for throwing me to the deer herd; the crowd in Queenstown, Dave, Jess, Frankie, Sam, Patrick, Go-Go, Courtney, Louis, and Leona, for stupid fun; that girl who showed her boobs, cause that was sick; the cop outside of Cromwell who probably saved my life by pulling us over; Luke Wigram for the open doors, and everyone else who joined in the conversations in Wanaka; Olivia Lerner, for riding shotgun on the Great New Zealand Road Trip; Lawson Bracewell, for reading the stars; Sam and Jonas, for being part of that collective consciousness when the rest of the world was still asleep; Ross and Averil Smart, for trusting me to watch the farm (and Toby); Linda Perrin, for taking me through the forests of Wellington and making pies with me; Gary and Rosemary Severinsen, for Masonic conspiracies and Star Trek; Mark White and Heraina Martin, for letting me join the whanau; Shona Patterson, for opening up the north for one last adventure; anyone who slowed down to pick me up on the side of the road (good on you, cheers, merci, kia ora, danke, 谢谢to all 43* of you); Matthew Byrne for Polly Moore (and her for more than she will probably ever know); Mom and Dad for pushing me to do this, the patience, the support, and for the Home Connection; and anyone who rolled their eyes, laughed, and actually listened to these stories. 

        

        



    

       

  

                

From the most sincere part of my beating heart, thank you for all that. Thanks for coming along on the trip of a lifetime. Thanks for waiting for me back home – I'll see you soon.

Cheers,

rb

* That number doesn't count the rides I got from people I knew but would otherwise have had to hitchhike. By my count, that's about 10 extra lifts . . . but who's counting?