I haven't really been up to much

Putting Auckland on my list was a bit of a mistake. I wrongly assumed that because I didn't actively dislike Auckland, I would probably like it if I went for longer. But it's too big and nerve wracking and I totally misjudged it. I have been up the sky tower (and will post a photo of the views), to the aquarium, bought a Ukulele, gone swimming, and plan to go to the zoo. I was going to visit the zoo today but I'm near paralyzed with fear and am too scared to leave my room. Oh that's a Surprise. My accomodation is on the 32 floor of a posh apartment building that's all polished marble lobby and 8th floor spa and swimming pool. I wasn't too bad when I arrived but I spent a considerable amout of time, about 6 hours working out how I could tell her how unhappy I am with the sate of my room and bathroom while I waited for her to get home. In the end I resolved to ask her for a hoover or dustpan and brush in the most tactful way possible with minimum fuss. It turns out that she doesn't own either. Apparently the cleaner does that and she brings them with her. Like hell. Why is my floor covered in debris and the bathroom FULL of hair?? What does the cleaner fo with the vacume, she's clearly not using it to suck things up! Anyway, it really isn't the host's fault, she then went about making me feel extra guilty as she picked up all the obvious pieces of  fluff, shopping tags, peach stems etc off my floor. I felt unbelieveabley bad since I wouln't have taken it up with her if I'd known. However there is still a considerable pile of hair I have swept into the corner of my super posh bathroom.  

How does anyone live without a hoover or dustpan and brush? Doesn't she feel helpless that, god forbid, something gets spilled or smashed she has no way of gathering it up? I think without cleaning things myself I would go exceedingly mad. Maybe because I have 2 cats and without a vaccume the house would be so fluffy we'd drown, but I don't think I could live without being able to clean and tidy myself. I have a look of horror on my face, you can't see it, but you can imagine it. 

The place I stayed before this was lovely but a but odd, beautiful house and neighbourhood, that's all I can say really. I didn't have access to a kitchen but the tea and coffee facilities were a nice surprise. Anyway, I love cicadas and wooden houses with picket fences and tree ferns in the suburbs, but I honestly don't think that would be enough to bring me back to Auckland a third time. For anyone who doesn't know, alrhough Welly is the capital, Auckland is the biggest city in NZ and is higher up in a slightly more subtropical, less windy area. It houses something like a third or a quarter of NZ's whole population and it's a city through and through. Wellington at the very bottom of the north island is smaller, and it's not only the capital of the country, but it's also considered the arts capital of NZ, put simply it's bloody lovely. The people are bloody lovely, the atmosphere is bloody lovely and I bloody love it. Auckland is full of high rises and I can't seem to get a grip on it, especially today I can't bring myself to go wondering in the crowds and big strees and chain stores and coffee shops, starbucks. Wellington is also the coffee capital of the world, it has a higer population density of coffee shops than New York city and they're mostly independenly owned, interesting, fair trade organic jobbies with interesting snacks and amazing ginger beer. 

What we're looking at, is the difference between Camden lock, or london southbank, Vs, Oxford circus. Honestly, I'm not in the mood, and even the lure of a zoo isn't doing the job. I'm skipping today, itMs a waste of money since I'm paying for this fiasco, but I'm going to make mistakes. At the end of the day, I've learnt some things, and especially if it go home having disliked Auckland and Oz, at least I went to Wellington which was the reason I came out here, I could have stayed longer, but I was okay with leaving too. If nothing else works out or comes good. It will have been worth it for that! However, what I hate to think is that I'll spend the next 11 days reading and then go home having not tried. I'm letting myself off on Auckland since I have done some things, and I've been before, it's okay to decide you don't like something as long as you've tried it, but if I go to Sydney and Melbourne and don't leave my room, I don't think I'll ever forgive myself. 

I had this vivid image in my head as I stood, soaked to my skin, water squenching between my toes with every step, in the middle of the forest at night in that silly bit of Cyclone, of a mother, most likely my own, saying "how do you know you don't like it if you don't try it?". I know that's what it comes down to, but I can't seem to find the balance, I don't want to live a life where I'm too scared to try things, but I also don't want to spend my life forcing myself to do things I don't want to do and labelling it 'fun' or a 'holiday'. I disagreed vehemently with anyone who called this trip a holiday. It's not because I'm really pernickety as you might think, it is bacause I'm not enjoying myself enough for it to be a holiday. The way I explained it to people, I made it sould like the reason I had such a problem with it was because calling it a 'holiday' belittled the amout of stress and trouble the whole thing took, made it sound like it was a breeze and it wasn't, made a mockery of the challenge this whole thing was or something. 'They're all travel' I'd tell people, 'they're trips not holidays', but it wasn't just because I wanted people to remember how hard it is or something, there were two real reasons above all others that I insisted the word 'holiday' wasn't used. One, I don't think I deserve a holiday, Holidays are treats for people who have worked hard and accomplished something, sure I work hard every day, but not in the sense that other people do, I work hard at not screaming or self harming, I work hard at leaving the house, at going to therapy, at not crying for days afterwards. That's not the same kind of contribution to society hard work that people deserve holidays for. My Mum deserves a Holiday, she cares for and puts up with a daughter with enough problems to wear out 10 Mums. I can look after myself of course physically, but when I look after myself, I'm teetering, holding my breath, waiting. I don't know how my psychological state would fare didn't live with Mum. 

Secondly, I didn't want people to call it a Holiday because a small, desperate part of me hopes there is more to travel than this. I hope that the sorts of holidays on adverts and in books and films are not a fictional thing, the holidays where you go somewhere with someone who's company you enjoy, you relax, unwind, maybe do something fun or exciting and most of all you enjoy. I'm really scared that this, going somewhere and being terrified and feeling guilty and struggling from one irrational challenge to the next is all there is. If this is a Holiday then what have I got to look forward to? 

I always imagine normal things I want. This trip isn't one of them, it has amazing parts yes, but I don't want my holiday to be terrifying and unpleasent and lonely. This to me is work, this is a struggle. This is like going in a mine to look for gold, I go in and it's not beautiful or wonderful, it's scary and dark and I'm alone. But there's treasure in there and if I can find it, I'll know where to look, and one day I can bypass all the horrid bits and go straight to the gold because I took the time to find it earlier. Short term pain for long term gain. Maybe one day I'll visit Wellington with someone who's company I enjoy, we'll relax, unwind, maybe do something exciting. Have fun. And it won't be a trip, it won't be scrabbbling about in the dark for gold, I'll already know where the gold is hidden. It'll be a holiday. And we won't visit Auckland. 

Films by starlight

There seems to be a lot of confusion about when I did what and what I've already done, so from now on I'll add the names of the days, and for anyone who doesn't know, New Zealand is 13 hours ahead of Britian, which basically means that when you get up on Friday morning, I'm about to go to bed friday night. 

Thank you everyone who comments, it's so kind of everyone to be so supportive. 

So the day I wrote about the last night, where I went to the Zoo, that was wednesday. Wednesday evening was amazing, I learn a real lesson. Where I am staying is Oriental Parade, across from Waitangi Park, one of Wellington's main central parks. Over the summer the park has been host to several 'films by starlight' events where the are food and drink stalls, a huge inflatable screen is erected and anyone can go sit in the park at dusk and watch one of the carefully selected films. They have had some wonderful choices including, The princess bride, Despicable me and Spirited away. On Wednesday night, they were playing one of my all time very favourite films (a film that if you haven't seen, I implore you to watch) Moonrise Kindom (Although not a children's film, it follows the story of two troubled children living on a small new england island who meet and plan to run away together. It's quirky with an interesting sense of humour, a fantastic cast, a wonderful backdrop and best of all, scouts!) 

I decided to go and crossed the road to the park, I was there for 5 minutes max before I decided I was too cold (read: SCARED) to stay. I came home. 

I told myself it wasn't fate that my favourite film was playing across the road, I told myself it wasn't destiny and it wasn't there to test me. I lied to myself to try to make myself feel better. The truth is, it wasn't fate or destiny, I had chosen to stay in the center of the city, and it was one of a selection of well chosen films. However, I was lying when when I told myself it wasn't a test. Maybe god or the universe were not testing me, but I was certainly testing myself and I was failing miserably. So I pulled my scratchy thermals over my sunburn (don't bring it up, I'm wearing suncream now), pulled another two layers over the top, and my snuggliest hat and scarf (I'd only packed for warm weather, it's lighter), I filled a hot water bottle and fetched another to sit on. I swallowed a spoonful of man the hell up and I walked back over to the park. I found a place to sit and waited a while. The film started and I felt so good that I had persevered! I waited 10 minutes and went home, I was cold and scratchy and uncomfortable. 

I passed the test because I knew when I was giving up out of fear and I found a way through. I passed the test because I didn't give up because I was scared. It didn't matter if I changed my mind and went home anyway (I was BLOODY FREEZING!), what matters is that I didn't let my fear stop me, I did what I felt I needed, no, wanted to do and I passed the test. Then I got extra marks for  knowing when to give up. For recognising when I was no longer giving up out of fear and for realising 'actually, I'm just not enjoying this!'. 

You see, I learnt recently that fear doesn't just stop me doing what I want to do, it also causes me to do all sorts of things that I don't really want to do too. 

When I booked this trip, I felt so bad that I wasn't going for 6 months or a year like most people seem to. I said to my (lovely) Mother "I feel so bad, I am too scared to go for 6 months!" And Mum said "do you want to go for 6 months?" To which I replied "OF COURSE NOT! That's what makes it so scary!" 

In my effort to overcome and conquer every possible fear in my life, I sometimes forget to check whether the reason I'm scared isn't just because it's not something I want. It's confusing, but sometimes I do things because I think I should overcome my fear of them, without checking whether I actually want to do them first. 

Sometimes I can't tell whether I want todo  something until I've pushed through my fear and sometimes even then I can't tell, but it's something I need to be aware of, that my fear definitely clouds my judgement, and not always in thw way I expect it to. 

I am very lucky that I have such wonderful people around me, and that I am learning things all the time. Anyone who remembers my resent trip to Sweden will know I had a pretty tough day where I was too scared to leave the appartment, but that day taught me more than I ever realised. Sometimes, enjoying things isn't about forcing yourself to do things you don't want to do! Although that's a concept I find hard to wrap my tiny mind around, I'm now learning that being happiness is actually less about making yourself suffer and more about being happy... Who knew? 

That was Wednesday, we've still got Thursay to go since it's Friday now and I had many adventures in between! 

Leaving so soon?

Well yes actually, I am. In fact, I've already left. "Where are you?" I hear you cry! "Why have you left us so soon!" I hear you exclaim! "Where are my bloody Cookies?" I hear you grumble. Quieten down, you'll get your Cookies.
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.
This morning I was enjoying the knowledge that all I had on my agenda was visiting a friend and baking said Cookies. Then I found out Sore Fingers was starting, TODAY. I rang a bunch of different numbers and eventually managed to book myself a place. Now I am poorer and somehow even more scared (I know, I didn't think it could get much scarier either!) and wondering if I have made a decision based on complete and fleeting insanity. I am sitting in my DORM room at a boarding school in the Cotswolds, I am literally living at Hogwarts for a week. Okay, well it's nothing like Hogwarts except for the great hall which looks a little like a smaller and less enchanted version of the one in Hogwarts. I am hoping tomorrow I will be sorted into my house by a talking hat before heating to 'defence against the dark arts' but my timetable just says breakfast, assembly and classroom tuition so probably not.
I also have a lanyard with my name and dietary preference on it (vegetarian), i am somewhat affronted to find I am the only person with 'late' written at the bottom of theirs. Nah, I'm just kidding, it makes me feel special. So far I get introduced to new people like this "This is Hannah" *hand shake* "she only found out about it this morning and still managed to come." I will probably be known as "that girl who was late". It is bedtime now, but Sore Fingers is the school that never sleeps, and as such the students all head out the the bar (yes, it has a bar) and then congregate into groups in the canteen/hall/bathroom/dorm/garden/car to jam into the small hours (really small apparently, like, 4AM).
But for me it IS bedtime, night night sensible people, have a carefree sleep and enjoy your pain free fingers.

The world is not in your books and maps, it's out there.

It's hard to watch my very favourite story unfold and not find myself drawn to the words within it that seem to strike to the heart of many of the issues I face. How am I not to fill with tears and a little guilt when Gandalf urges Bilbo to go out and live his life, when I hide behind my fears so readily. I would sooner read a hundred books, study maps and learn pieces of new languages than step outside for a moment to experience the world that created them.
Watching the Hobbit yesterday I felt particularly like I was being targeted when Gandalf says to Bilbo: "You'll have a tale or two to tell when you come back."
"Can you promise that I will come back?" Asks bilbo,
To which Gandalf replies: "No, and if you do, you will not be the same."
How could such lines not strike such a chord when I am sitting, 11,000 miles away from all that I love, knowing I heard those very words from a hundred people before I left. I was saving this post for my return, but I will admit now that I am still the same. This trip hasn't made me stronger, braver, happier. It hasn't "made me into a woman" nor has it made me fall in love with New Zealand (although I may have a little crush on Wellington, don't tell anyone!). But I can't say nothing has happened. This trip has made me aware, that in my most humble opinion, I won't ever change or find what I'm looking for until I learn to let go of my fears. I will always have unreasonable expectations and will move my boundaries to make sure nothing ever meets them, because I couldn't dare let my guard down. I know now too that I am still to afraid to really enjoy things in the way that other people seem to. The best experiences become nightmares when I suddenly panic over what could happen back home, or weather I even HAVE a home anymore. And when I do feel happy, it feels so fragile and I know any moment I could be crying over spilt milk. Lastly, and I hate to admit to this one, I feel lonely, I just don't feel right on my own. I don't know yet whether I will grow out of it, or whether I will always need someone to share things with, but at this time in my life, I do. This trip has been amazing. Not always happy, in fact I think I may have cried every day bar two, but I am adult enough to see adventures are not all good, and the line between great and terrible is very fine. It HAS been an amazing trip, but the next one will be better, because now I know more about ME, and where I need to change. (But not how quite yet.)
I did see the Hobbit in the Embassy Theatre, where the world premier took place, I did see it in 48fps, and I will see it again if there is any way to; it is MY trip and if I want to be a nerd then I will!!
It was glorious I am happy to announce and I look forward to it's release on DVD next month.
I will leave you with this most wonderfully quaint yet sincere quote from The Hobbit,
"Bilbo had many hardships and adventures before he got back. The wild was still the wild."