Scorching bay

Since I'm sitting on a bus for 6 hours, I thought maybe I'd have a go at telling you about Wednesday and my visit to Scorching bay. This was the morning I had been wallowing in self pity, desperate loneliness and apathy. The morning I was so frantic about missing out on wellington, that I couldn't make up my mind where to start, so I just sat and waited, trying to process all the possible options I had and their outcomes. This was the morning I spoke to Rhyannon and she pressed my reset button and suddenly I knew where I needed to go, that I needed to go to Scorching bay. 

I took the bus to Miramar with the intention of walking across to the bay, only Wellington is made up of long hill ridges, like fingers of green spread between suburbs and I hadn't known that one of these hills ran along between Miramar and the coast. I do now. 

Google maps has given me an incredible resource, one quick glance and I can find my way anywhere, think I'm lost and the GPS will let me know if I took a wrong turning somewhere, but what it wasn't showing me was the topography of the land, and I'm really glad of that, because when I walked towards the outer point of the Miramar peninsular with the plan to take a right and make my way two streets across to where the coastline waited, I was met with an unexpected challenge and a pretty big hill to climb. 

I like hills, they are hard to climb, sometimes a great struggle but when you reach the top, the view and sense of satisfaction you feel are a worthy reward for perseverance and determination and you walk away with greater strength. I'm pretty sure that never happens when you take shortcuts, when you rush past or always follow the easiest path. They represent so clearly the choices we face in everday life when deciding which path to choose, who wouldn't pick a hill? 

This path was a pedestrian only footpath meandering to the top, trees pressing in from the sides, sheltering above. This path might be the most beautiful path I have ever walked if only for the natural beauty and the ever present voice in my head reminding me what I would have missed had I just stayed in my room, had I not made a decision. 

It was hot, I was aware that having convinced myself it was a cold day, I was somewhat overdressed. The cicadas were deafening, a beautiful reminder of how far I'd really come, and once or twice I heard a tui singing somewhere nearby. I reached the top of the hill alive, and not quite roasted, but exhausted and feeling more alive than I had for quite some time. I marvelled at the view, I felt as if no one would believe me when I told them this vast, blue beauty existed, I wanted desperately to bring it back with me. I followed vaguely held instructions in my head, walking along the top of the hil, parallel to the sea, before reaching another pedestrian footpath and the final steps down to Scorching bay. There was a fruit tree, I do not know what kind, I could not recognise the little fruits that littered the path but the sun had heated them making the air fragrant. As I made my way back and forth down the hillside, scorching bay came into view and I was enraptured. I had lunch at the cafe by the beach, famed for being the cafe of choice for the cast shooting lord of the rings, and laid by the beach just long enough to burn my forearms. Then I walked along the coast, becoming ever more delighted by the views before finally setting back over the hill by a different path and back to darlington road, where the buses stop. It was the best day of my trip although not the happiest, intensely bittersweet, overshadowed by a wistful feeling of having to leave something behind and experiencing perfection alone. 

A piece of the view

First glimse of scorching bay

Looking back from the coastal path

An actual photo of me

Along Karaka bay road

Speaks for itself.

Overcoming

So yesterday after my blog post, I started to plan in my mind what I would do, I started to try to compute all options I had for things to do, cross reference them by number of days here and again by weather, tried to work out which things were close enough to do in one day and which things would take a day in themselves, which were most worthwhile, which cost more, which things would lead to other possible opportunities, which... My brain had crashed. Like a computer given factors that could not be determined and asked to run an impossible algorithm based on uncertaintly and vague, ever changing human emotion. 

A little while later Rhyannon talked to me, told me to run through what the options were, she said:

"It's not a waste of time because you're learning more and more about yourself and what's the worst thing that can happen, you miss a few things and have the rest of your life to go back and see them again"

So simple, how did she make it so simple? 

I knew then what my priority was, but felt reassured that New Zealand wasn't going anywhere, assuaging a constant gnawing fear that I hardly knew was there. The reality is, I do have to choose, not only to have a great fun holiday (cue sarcasm) but much more importantly, because this is my chance to learn lessons, and those lessons will change the year ahead. Two years ago, I learnt some lessons that put me in a place where I was able to have a relationship with another human being, I have always, always attributed my trip to New Zealand as the overiding factor that made it possible, and yes, it did, but realistically, I didn't stop learning once I was home, it just gave me something to run with. 

So yesterday my brain stopped trying to compute uncertainty and just gave me an answer, my priority was Scorching bay. 

This little place had captured my heart 3 years earlier and I had been vowing to make it back ever since, only it's not simple, a bus ride won't get you there unless you're going in the evening, and then there's no way to get back. My hosts had offered to take me on Saturday but I already had ideas for Saturday and quite honestly, after 3 years it was something I wanted to do by myself. 

I looked at the bus to Miramar, the peninsular that scorching bay sits on, if I took the bus there, walked to Scorching bay, had lunch, and took the same bus back, I could stop in Kilbirnie on the way home, walk up the hill to Newtown to take photos, back down, buy groceries and take the bus home, it seemed a flawless plan while the weather was still pleasent enough and I was sure I could fit all that into one afternoon, I already had plans for the evening and as I was sitting, fretting, it had already reached midday. Furthermore, if I went today, I could politely tell my hosts I had grasped the opportunity to go while the weather was good and free up my Saturday, and it had been that simple.

Rhyannon Jordan, I love you. 

I marched myself out of the appartment and called the lift, then I almost screamed. The lift was dressed up as a witch, the doors had opened and there it was, wearing a long black cape. I amost ran back inside. I had to walk away and ready myself before I called the lift again. For reasons I later learned, the lift had been kitted out with weird black curtains covering the walls, it was eerie (and no doubt totally benign to normal folk). 

I marched myself onto a bus to Miramar and asked the driver to let me know when we got there, the bus drivers so far have been very friendly and understanding and for that I am eternally grateful.

In the end I went to Scorching bay, I had lunch, I walked along the coast and back to the bus, I bought groceries but did not climb the hill to Newtown. I did a lot, so much so, that it'll need it's own blog post. 

I found the best place on earth.