Delhi welcomes you with open arms

Back by popular demand

I'm writing, I don't know what I'll write, I'll just start and see if the words find their places. 

I left Britain a few days ago to travel to Japan, on the way I had a long layover in Delhi, India. I didn't especially want to stop in Delhi, as much as I've longed to see India, a 24hr layover didn't seem the best way to do it, the flight was the only one I could afford though and I figured I'd arrive in the evening, go straight to my hotel and then spend the day seeing Delhi before departing for Tokyo that evening. So I thought. There were several hitches before I'd set off. I couldn't prearrange an airport transfer so I would have to take a taxi, at night, that's a big stepping stone for me. Secondly the visa to enter India costs £60, that's okay, but it did mean that the flight wasn't as reasonable as it seemed at first glance. Thirdly you can't get Rupees in britain, the lady at the bureau de change told me, I still assume that's true. 

Before I tell you about the experience, I need to make it clear I am stating the facts and describing the situation. Yes, it sucked, yes, I was disappointed, scared, tired, frustrated, angry, but that's not why I'm telling you, I am not telling you  because I feel hard done by, I'm telling you because you asked and I'm just being honest about the journey so far. 

The flight was fine, I couldn't sleep but that's usual, although they did black out the cabin and switch off the lights which is a little unusual for a daytime flight. The food was amazing, I'm not generally a fan of meals on planes and used to habitually turn them down before I discovered the 'asian vegetarian' option, and no one does asian vegetarian like India. It was some of the best food I've ever eaten, which says a lot. 

Cutting to the chase the problems started after customs, the bureau de change wouldn't let me change any less than £150 which I couldn't afford, they directed me outside to the ATMs, what I didn't know was that the ATM was going to reject my card as nationwide suspected fraudulent activity. Okay, my bad, should have told them but it didn't even cross my mind. However, they didn't contact me for verification, they contacted mum but then wouldn't speak to her. After many failed attempts to withdraw from the ATMs, I figured I'd go back inside and sort something out, it was 29 degrees outside, very busy and nearing midnight at this point. 

Only once you've left the airport that's it, you're not allowed back in, them's the rules. The military on the door didn't want to hear me out but eventually said I could go in if I left all my luggage with them and went straight to the ATM (there was no help desk or anything).

After another 20 mins of failed withdrawals and running from ATM to ATM I finally managed to get onto the airport wifi which I used to call home. Mum informed me that nationwide had blocked my card. I rang their international number but  my credit ran out before I could even speak to someone. Next mum tried but they wouldn't discuss it with her, then they tried to phone me (to no avail). At last a solution presented itself when I facetime called mum and she put me on loudspeaker to talk to Nationwide on the home phone. Bloody hell, just thinking about it makes me nauseous. There's no way I could have contacted them without help, they'd blocked access to my one source of money and then made amending the situation myself impossible by making the international number charged at standard network rates for international calls. I couldn't have topped up and rang, they'd blocked my card. Anyway, you get the picture. Just moments after I'd successfully taken money out the military guard found me and demanded I leave the terminal, it was dead lucky he hadn't come for me 5 minutes earlier. I took a taxi (who charged me 2000 rupees for a 5 minute ride and then asked for a tip, I was too tired to argue the ethics of this) and arrived at my hotel in a very intimidating area. 

I went to sleep around 3am and got up at 11 the next morning. There was no way I felt capable of exploring Delhi whilst scared, over tired and in 36 degree heat with 3 weeks worth of luggage on my back. It was a shame, but I know I couldn't have done it. The hotel transferred me to the airport (300 rupees...) and I was relieved to be back safe and sound, only I wasn't allowed in. Of course, eventually I got in, made my flight and am now in Tokyo about to sleep for the first time in 2 days, but there was an entire day of being sent from one place to another, having my passport checked just to use the loos, being told to collect a new boarding pass, being told I couldn't have a new boarding pass, queuing for things only to be sent to the wrong places and having to start again. Surprisingly I took this whole charade in my stride, it was all just a chance to learn, even if it was ridiculous and upsetting, but my patience broke when the woman at the help desk in departures told me that on my way back I would have to clear immigration, collect my luggage, leave the airport and then check back in and clear immigration again because (and I quote) "you cannot stay in the airport, you must leave the airport mam, there is no transit area, you must collect your bags and leave the airport". I had already asked several people at different desks and been given different answers ranging from 'your bags will go straight to your final destination' to 'you may need to collect your bags and check them in again, it depends on the ticket type' but this woman didn't even bother to fob me off sensibly, we were standing IN the transit area less than 50m from the transit hotel in the airport that she works at every day that had thousands of passengers in transit every day and she just reached into her bum, had a bit of a rummage and game me whatever nonsense made up on the spot answer she found first. Bloody hell! I walked down the departures hall only to be accosted by a member of the transit hotel staff who wanted to know if I was on a long layover and would I like  sleep. I asked her if people were allowed to stay in the airport and she said "yes mam, you have to stay in the airport because you have no visa" which although presumptuous, was almost definitely closer to the truth than the answer the woman at the information desk came up with. I could have spat fire and rained down glass, god I was angry, I almost booked another flight there and then just to avoid Delhi on the way back. But I didn't, I sat calmly, got on my flight and left. 

This is part one of two I guess. I'm in Japan now, that's another story. 

I don't hate India, I hate that such a brilliantly cultural and enterprising country only showed me it's bad points. I hate that I can't help but feel angry, I can't help but be disappointed, I'm angry because I was so ready to love India and it took that away from me. I think that means I will have to go back. 

I learnt a lot of lessons, both about India and about my own strength, I'm glad every awful thing unfolded as it did. I feel really lucky. I can still be angry, I can feel both. 

Today in Rotorua

Today I got out and walked a long way. I walked through native New Zealand woodland, through californian redwoods through geothermal areas where the ground steamed, along the river, through the suburbs, through the city.

I walked for 3 and a half hours. 

At one point I found myself walking down mountain biking tracks and I had to double back before anyone spotted me (or ran into me for that matter). 

I walked a path alongside the river that was so sulphurous I though I would be sick, I don't seem to do well with sulphur. The streams I crossed bubbled and steam poured from cracks in the ground. 

I marked my path on a map, I went to the post office and bought some groceries for the road ahead, I took a bus home. I'm fairly satisfied. 

That black line, that's me walking. 

I'm sort of here!

I set off at midday on Thursday to travel up to Gatwick for an evening flight to Dubai, I sort of mastered the art of sleeping on a plane but almost had a melt down because the plane (airbus 380) was PACKED so had to have a little time out in the galley with the stewards. Then I had a brief layover in Dubai in which I paid £8.50 for a bottle of water and some lemonade. Then I had a flight to 'Auckland' by which I mean they flew to Brisbane, made us get off and then back on and onwards to Auckland. It was a long flight, possibly the longest flight I've been on, but I'm not sure because the Brisbane bit cut it in two really. Then I arrived in Auckland, practically ran through boarder control because I was convinced that 3 hours wasn't long enough to make my connection and now I'm sitting in domestic, the first one at the gate, like a wally, my eyes are very red, I am very tired. I am almost there.

 It is scorchio here, I was not prepared! 

Now it is SATURDAY AFTERNOON, that is how long I have been moving! 

Unfinished business

Oh yes, thank you for waiting! Where was I? So after my gigantic emotional meltdown, I went out and bought a tea flask which did a great deal to cheer me up, add to that the tea and new infuser I also bought and I was in a much better mood. I sourced (read: bought) a sketchbook, pencil and eraser and doodled the afternoon away. My host asked me if I wanted some soup and I told him I was going out to eat at that vegan place everyone had been recommending, so then I had to actually go. Aux Vivres was my first vegan restaurant, I ordered a thai bowl and a mug of earl grey with an enormous amount of lemon. It was gorgeous and I sat all evening sketching the room and feeling idylic. The staff were fantastic and so friendly, though my waiter didn't seem able to grasp the fact that I only had one day left and couldn't possibly check out all his recommendations before leaving the city. 

The next day I got up made a flask of rubarb tea, visited the cat cafe and took the metro the the biodome which was pretty average. Then I walked up to the botanical gardens and insectarium. It was beautiful, and overwhelmingly picturesque. Finally another sunny day and the warm breeze smelled like moss and fountains and flowers. I spent a long time in the alpine garden meditating and listening to the chorus of crickets. I also spotted black squirrels and chipmonks, I wished I could bring that moment home with me to share. 

I was so tired I just wanted to go home, the ache in my legs was fierce and I was sleepy as anything, but I had to stay out, the botanical gardens was open until 9pm and after dark would be celebrating the 'gardens of light' lantern festival. I ended up walking over to the children's play area and laying on a giant rope spider's web because I thought it looked comfortable, it wasn't, but I felt too cool to get down. Finally night fell and the lanterns were worth waiting for, the chinese garden looked incredible with huge hand sewn lanterns decorating every corner, and out across the lake opposite the pagoda. 

I almost walked 2.5 miles home because I was feeling invigorated but thought better of it. 

The next day I got up and worried. I packed as best I could, putting my old boots in my bag and my new triumphs on my feet. As I'm sure you all know, I then went out and bought more tea than any one sane* person needs and then went on to stuff my Jake boots full of it.**

I visited the cat cafe one last time before I left and walked to the base of Mont Royal, I never did get round to walking up it. 

The less said about my journey home the better, so in short: 

I met a lovely old man on the metro. 

The bus to the airport was so stressful I had to take a diazepam. 

In the airport I did manage to buy a 'Canada' patch, I've been buying one for each country I visit. 

My plane was a red eye (overnight) and I didn't sleep, they only turned the lights off for 3 hours and insisted on serving a meal at midnight.

I made my london connection fine, but had to take the Jubilee line at rush hour to get from the airport to paddington, not fun! 

I arrived at cardiff train station... but an hour early because I forgot my phone was on amsterdam time and I caught the wrong train. Luckily they didn't notice and I didn't even realise I had until mum asked me why I'd arrived an hour early. (She was of course there to meet me, even with the time difference!) 

I came home and went to cubs that evening incredibly tired and jet lagged.

I want to go back. 

*Luckily, I'm no sane person.

**I went through security twice, no one checked the tea in my boots.

At 6:30PM.

At 6:30 after having been awake since 7am, I finally plucked up the courage to go out. Oh joy. 

I am opposite a big park, I will add a photo. It's very pretty from above. I can't decide which is worse, being inside or being outside. That sounds terrible, It would have sounded better if I'd said "I can't decide which is better" but that would be a bit pointless. I'm stuck inside, don't get me wrong, I have days, especially if Mum is away, where I don't go out and I no one visits, but I'm never alone alone, there are people I could phone, people who are awake (*would it kill you guys to stay awake all night in case I need to chat??) and there are people outside the window, walking past, walking dogs, people across the street yelling and banging on each others windows (we live across from the 'vulnerable adults' accommodation, apparently window banging is like a whole language for them) and people parking their cars in out residents only bays (and earning beady stares from me as I sit in my window). What I mean is I still see a lot if people, and not people 32 floors down in the street like ants, people at eye level who most of the time probably don't know I'm there but it makes no difference. Secondly I make a lot of noise myself, I talk, I pull faces, I stomp, when I get hold of an instrument I sing, you get the picture. Thirdly, I have two cats. There is a formula for cats and happiness, I with I could remember more about the Nth term, but it goes something like: 1st cat =100% rise in happiness, each subsequent cat = a rise in happiness equal to 50% of the rise in happiness cause by first cat. I'm not kidding, this is science! 

Actually it's just a working theory but I fully believe it and if anyone would like to contribute to my reasearch into cat happiness, I'd be happy for you to add to my collection of cats, I have an one of those **wishlists like couples getting married have, so make sure no 2 people get me the same cat (goodness wouldn't that be embarassing!) but I feel I have strayed off the point here, my point is, I have the best non human company available anywhere at home, it's luxary company. One keeps my lap warm while the other one shows me just the right level of indifference to ensure I don't forget I'm in the presence of GODS. (And I don't.) 

Today I woke up at seven having slept fitfully and didn't leave the house. I haven't seen a single person or heard a single voice other than the occasional clamour of voices from the street if I open the window. 

I read all day, a very disappointing and frustating book about a reasonably paranoid detective that mademe reasonably paranoid myself. All day I rook short breaks from my paranoia to reward myself with self loathing and pity and terse words inside my head ("All the way to New Zealand and you won't go out, of hell done"). I took a short break at mid day to write to the blog, and another slightly later to tear up while looking out of the window miserabley and wondering if there was any way I could find an excuse to fall out of it (turns out no, throwing myself from a window won't make me happy, my heart has wounds that can only be healed by the soft paws of kittens hint hint). 

At 6:15 I finished the (bloody stupid pretentious) book and considered going outside. The sun had mostly cooled, but there were clouds drawing besides so It was that gentle eveningy light. I decided to risk it. 

So I did, I went to the park for 15minutes. Then I had a stroke of realisation! Parks are not the same as wildlife reserves or museum gardens, they are not filled with kids on school trips, tourists and nerds like myself! No matter what a beautiful park it is, come early evening it will be dotted with groups of locals, youths and drunk men weeing. After the second man  weeing I decided this was not a museum garden, these people were not here to observe Kaka reeding stations or glimpse a rare Takahe, these people are socialising and unwinding. I was glad to have an excuse to leave the park, but my only other option seemed to be to walk the busy shopping streets or go back to ny room. I went back to my room having not actually heard anyone speaking english and realising I didn't know which was worse, the feeling of unchanging unease that I felt crammed in one room (with a huge floor to ceiling window I might add) all day, or feeling totally isolated outside in a big city. 

Tomorrow I hope I will go to the zoo, I may take a temazepam before bed and hope that just like wherever I stay, today was 'first day fever' (something I more or less get when I go anywhere that involves not wanting to go out.) It does seem to crop up at it's strongest when I have just arrived somewhere. (I remember my 2nd day in Wellington, it was overcast, I shook all day and went very early.) 

This day almost exactly mirrors my big day of epiphany in Stockholm when I couldn't go out, spent all day reading and eventually attempted to leave the appartment in the afternoon. It was -7 degrees and I just couldn't get further than a few steps out of the doorway. That was my second day too, I guess this is also. I have a natural talent for not leaving the house! 

If I had someone with me, I would have gone out today, I know this is true. People who see my travel alone ask why I didn't find someone to come with me. It seems a pretty ridiculous question to me and I never know how to answer it, almost like being asked why I don't grown money in my garden. I would probably answer both questions the same, 'is that possible?' 'Can people even do that?' 'I don't know how and wouldn't know where to start'. I am terrible at being lonely, but I don't know where on earth I would find a human person to drag around the world. I guess I could grow one in my garden, spring is on thw way. 

Anyway, my point is, I'm tired, hungry, lonely, a touch paranoid and a little sad. I don't like to stay in and act the recluse, it's a waste of opportunity, time, money, patience and my self respect which is wearing pretty thin. 

Fix me? 

*this is an in joke I have with my Mum, I couldn't resist, even if she doen't read it. 

**wishlist as follows. Subject to change. 

Burmese

Maine coon

Egyptian Mau

American curl 

LaPerm

Scottish Fold

Bengal

Savannah 

Devon rex

Cornish rex

Any old Moggie

Tiger

Last of all I should note the appalling book in question was 'In the Woods' by Tana French, It's a long time since I've read a book that goes downhill so fast and that ends with such a lack of resolution that I wanted to throw it out of my giant window! On top of that is was bluderingly obvious, patronising, pretentious and fruitless! Highly unreccomended. 

View from my huge window.

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. 

This is how I feel today, and then some.

Sunday morning. This didn't publish, I thought is had. All the worrying I did about people's reactions to how I was feeling, and my subsequent explanation in the next post must have sounded so out of context. I was under the impression that this had been up the whole time and everyone had ignored it politely. 

I have decided to post this anyway since I thought it was up here the whole time, but feel free to politely ignore it for real this time. (Today's; Monday's Blog post has also been posted.) 

This is how I felt sunday Morning:

"Tyler's words coming out of my mouth.

And I used to be such a nice person." 

After I posted this, I post again saying the following, I am moving it to here because it makes more sense in order. 

I'm not going to delete my earlier blog post just because I have regained control of my emotions. If I deleted all my bad blog posts when I felt good, then the opposit would also have to apply. I'd be lying if I said I felt good all of the time. I feel bad often enough to fill a book, but it passes as quickly as it comes on. I wish I could remember that all things pass, but I can't when I'm in that place. This morning I felt like I was so twisted up with anger that my soul was falling apart inside me. I felt so full of bitter rage that I thought it was all that I was. 

I couldn't write those honest words I borrowed, they're ugly and vengeful and true and although I want to be honest on here, I don't know where honesty ends and cruelty begins.

Lions and Tigers and Bears... Oh my!

There was a bit of a misunderstanding, at least On my end. On sunday morning I had a breakdown and instead of writing the ugly things I felt inside, I posted a passage from Figt Club, one of my favourite books. It was pushing the bounds of honesty and I thought everyone had politely ignored it. I have appologised several times but no one has acknowleged it. Well that's because it didn't publish. Still, I felt that as honesty goes, it should still be up there. I have decided to post it and it should apear above this post;  today's post. Still, feel free to politely ignore it! 

Monday morning. I know am running behind, also, I feel I owe some people an explanation and an apology. When I say I can't do one thing or another, I'm not putting myself down, I'm just stating a fact. I really am finding it so much harder to do all these things -write, play, (god forbid) draw- than I used to, so when I say I can't do it, I'm being honest, not criticising myself. I think a part of it is that I'm struggling with some demons I haven't identified yet, angry serpent-like things that are making me feel a lot of anger. I can't tell where they're coming from or what purpose they serve. Yesterday I had a gutteral rage that i couldn't find an outlet for, I'm sorry that I felt the need to express it here. I know it may have been unfair of me, but I like to belive that this blog is about a whole person and a whole experience and I do have a lot of ugly feelings inside me. 

Thank you to all the kind people who stick with me and write such kind things. You are honarary family, you have shown a kindness I find baffling and touching as it exceeds what I expect from people. 

I really do feel like I'm losing something, but I hope I'm just mislaying it. It's easy to see the bad things, they're louder than the simple moments of happiness that weave themselves into our day. I have seen and done the most delightful and wonderful things here, I've met strangers who needed somone to talk to, I've done things I never thought I'd get to do, and found amazing simple pleasures, perfect moments. ...however I have wrestled with feelings that are not new to me, but still continue to confound me each time they arise. I don't want them and they're not welcome. A better way to live would be to simply observe these feelings without judging them, to watch as they come and go without giving them power. Yeah, I know the drill, but I can't do it. Yet. 

So what have I done since the last time I really wrote? I've been to the zoo and fed the Lions, I've (shhh, it's a secret) been in the serval enclosure and petted the servals, I've been back to Ninjaflower (Wellington's best piercing studio) and had a few ear piercings, I've been to see beyond (a modern circus act) in the opera house, I've been back to Ninjaflower for photos of my piercinngs (to go in their portfolios), I've been to Zealandia (Wellington's nature reserve) in the sunny sunny daytime, I've had mighty tantrums inside and done some major sulking, I've been to see the Hobbit again (3D, 48fps, Atmos sound) and made up with my inner nerd, I've met up with some women who share in a hobby with me, I've talked a lot! I've had minor breakdowns, that felt like the end of the world when they happened. I've said some things here that were maybe too honest. I've been back to the zoo a 3rd time and gone behind the scenes with one of the keepers to meet their tiger, I have been snubbed and ignored by a tiger! I have met sun bears instead, and watched them go through their training and health checks, I have fed bears jam off a spoon. 

I have been on a night tour of Zealandia and been caught in a downpour in the forest valley for 2 hours; the tail end of Cyclone Lusi. I have seen a Kiwi roaming, I have seen a wild Eel, Wetas and Tuis and Bellbirds, I have seen Tuatara and Glowworms so beautiful they hurt to watch. 

I have had to wear flipflops and keep all my drippy, soaked through clothes in plastic bags.  

I have walked Cuba street and the waterfront and met many strangers who wanted someone to tell their story to, I met Terry who had brain damage but remembers 'gale and angela' and remembered his father the moment he heard him speak, I have met the woman who usually cooks but decided to get her friend a takeaway, I have met the man who is south african but lives in New zealand, who just got a new job.

I have drank ginger beer in the sun, and eaten in the museum garden, and searched for pebbles under a bridge. 

Lastly, I have flown away, leaving Wellington behind and arriving in Auckland with it's summer breezes, and Cicadas and sunshine in the day, and it's crickets by night. I have eaten warm Pumkin soup in a mug and gotten very sleepy. 

Now you have got as far as I have. What will tomorrow be made of? I don't know, good things and peace I hope. 

Night night xx 

We're all going to the zoo tomorrow...

Well it's been 2 days since I wrote, so I better get you up to speed! As it happens, we're not all going to the zoo tomorrow, sorry to disapoint. After my last blog post, I went home and read until I finally finished my long standing love affair with Sookie Stackhouse, it has taken a while but I finally read the last book in this ongoing series of guilty pleasures (A fact I'm telling you because I'm still grieving the end of our relationship). For those of you who are wondering, I am now entertaining the likes of Tyler Durden, Fight Club is a must read in my humble opinion. 

I took a Temazepam before bed since I just wasn't sleepinging properly up to this point (no one mention red bull, I wouldn't drink it unless I knew how it would affect me) so I thought a temazepam (prescribed for my bad sleep and nightmares) would help. And so it did! I slept right through to 9.30am and I felt better. Nightmares do terrible things to yours sleep, it's amazing what a night free of fear can do.

Since I could feel the effects of my good sleep wearing off and it was overcast again, I didn't want to waste the day so I took decisive action and caught a bus to Lyall bay, where I had stayed for a while last year (anyone remember my love affair with burmese beauty Rosie?). Lyall bay has houses, a beach and not that much more! What it does have is a deli. The most beautiful deli, inside and out! I didn't get a chance to visit the deli last year, since I kept setting off before it was open, and comeing home after it was shut, I decided it was finally time to try that deli. I had brunch, a mozzarella, tomato and olive toastie, though I don't like tomatoes or olives (or capers for that matter, it had capers too) but I ate it and felt very grown up about it too! (Is that what I think grown ups do? Eat things they don't like?? A question to explore another time!) 

After my 'Mmmmm' brunch (is that a good Mmmm or a bad Mmmm?) I set off to walk over the tallest hill in the whole world! (A regular size hill, Wellington is all hills) I will add some photos at the end, when you see the teeny tiny houses in them, remember that's where I started off. Lyall bay and Kilbirnie are both tha same side of a big hill, on the other side is Newtown park. You can go round the hill by bus, but I had decided to walk the big silly thing. It was like slaying a dragon in case you need something to compare it to, like slaying a really big, hilly, scorching hot, noisy, dragon. These hills are the kind that are steep and have zig zaggy roads going up them, last year my host laughed at me for calling the hills wiggly slopes or windy slopes, apparently most people just call them hills. 

Suddenly, climbing the wiggly slope, I could hear cicadas again and birds too! I had missed them so much as they'd stoped in the city due to the clouds, but in the trees they were still singing. Then I heard my first Tui of the trip! Tui's are a magnificant NZ bird, they sound like a combination of panpipes, and an animal being murdered. The first time I ever heard one I spent half an hour searching for the source of the strangled sounds and almost phoned the police! I love them, they are quintessentially new zealandish (not a word, AGAIN! I'm tired.) and make me dreadfully happy! 

I crossed the epic hill and reached the zoo where I imediately gave in to all my impulses and booked an encounter... Surprise surprise. But not like a sensible person would imagine, I booked it for THE NEXT DAY. Yes, you heard right, I went to the zoo, and then booked to go to the zoo again the next day. If I'd done it online, I could have gone on the day of the encounter, stayed all day and got free admission, but nooo, I did exactly what I did last year, and booked the encounter on a different day so I would have to go back, and pay for the first day too. 

Anyway, I had a splendid day at the zoo, looking at animals and the like. I then walked over the wiggly dragon again and this time to Kilbirnie so I could go to a better supermarket. Countdown sells the mango I like, New world does not. 

The  I took the bus back. How clever I thought I was, saving a doller and 50 cents (turns out I wasn't) by taking the bus from Kilbirnie instead of the zoo. 

In the evening I had some big fish to fry! But my neck hurts so I'm going to publish this and split the rest into 2 more posts. PHOTO TIME! 

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away..

Well.. Not exactly, but you get the gist and it seemed like a pretty good title. Yesterday morning I woke at 5am, the night before I had suffered a bit of an accomodation mix up which led to my host calling my Mum... in Wales. As you can imagine it totally didn't help me get into my house and let to me sitting outside and then dragging my luggage around the supermarket hoping someone would let me in when I got back. Anyway, needless to say I got in, felt all "oh why on earth did I come here? Do I even like New Zealand? Am I mad? I want to go hoooome" etc etc and went to be at a goodly hour. 

Then as I said, I got up at 5am yesterday,  wrote many important emails and sorted out many important things (not that many) and lay in bed reading. 

I got up and out at around 8am, wantered around the waterfront and the museum garden, and while I was busy wasting my day away I got a very important email. I arranged to meet a friend, a wonderful woman who hosted me in Wellington last year, for lunch at 12pm. After several long and grueling hours which made me question whether time mo es slower in NZ, it was finally time to go. I have to say I had a lovely lunch (Halloumi and walnut salad) an even lovelier waterfront walk with Sara and we talked about many things (cats mostly as it goes... Actually, not that many things, it really was cats cats cats..)

and I can still feel myself glowing with respect for this woman who I have a lot of time for, she has showed me a lot of kindness. 

Later I walked Cuba street, Wellington's central yet quirky street of boutiques, cafes and more. 

Lastly I stopped off and boucht myself a ticket for the evening's showing of the Hobbit: the desolation of my childhood hopes and dreams (at least I think that's what it's called) in 3D, 48FPS, Blow out your eardrums Dolby digital atmos (I have to admit, it blows out your mind too) at 8:30pm. Then I went home and read until it 'was TIME'. 

I think I watched about half an hour of the film, half a stomach churning, magical, topsy turvy hour where I literally almost climbed over the seats behind me in an attempt to get away from the spiders. Let me make this clear, I have seen this film twice already in 3D, 48FPS and DD Atmos make ALL the difference. May have been one of the most goosebumpy films I've ever watched. However I conceded after 30 minuted of internal struggling that I was clearly too tired to sit in a cinema until 11.30, and just got up and left, despite my inner nerd screaming "this is the only chance you will ever get to watch this film, in this format, in this cinema... If you walk out I'll disown you!"... But I did. 

Then I spoilt the affect if my frankly very mature decision by chatting to the girl behind the counter for a further half an hour or more. Oh well, I take my pride where I can get it... HEY GUYS! I spoke to a person, a HUMAN person! Eh, eh.. 

Anyway, to conclude, I slept terribley last night, my OCD is of the chart and I'm living off crackers despite buying my own cultlery and a bowl I can't eat in the house. I'm scared of the shower, I'm scared of my bed, I'm scared of the carpet. Today is overcast, I'm scared of clouds. I can't stop shaking, I've been shaking for hours. I'm falling asleep because that's one of the things I do when I'm really stressed, I shut down. 

I beed a cat, I'm not even kidding, somone find me a cat. 

I'm aching so much from shaking. 

I've been up since 6am but couldn't leave the house 'til 11. 

I hate me. I want to be someone else. 

Life is a mixed bag.

Ah, airport Wifi!

I couldn't post the last blog post because my 30 mins of free airport wifi ran out, so I paid for 45 mins of wifi, but it didn't go through, so I spent a long time on the phone to customers services, the upshot of which was that my transaction didn't go through and I needed to pay again, so I did and that worked but then I got my emails, 2 of which were payment receipts which meant it HAD gone through the first time! So I wasted most of the 45 mins I bought by being on the phone a second time to customer services asking for a refund. I am a little less elated but still determined to arrive in wellington happy! Let it slide, let it slide...

Oh my days!

Goodness I'm tired (I'm worn but not sleepy thanks to the wonders of red bull!) but I am finally here! It is midday and I have to wait another few hours before I can board my last flight but I feel elated! If I could I'd go for a run (probably the red bull speaking) but I have to guard my bags, on of the downsideds to having no fixed abode... But I'll get there, by the time the sleepy headed british public wake up tomorrow morning, I should be settling down in wellington. I might cry, right now I feel like happy crying but later I might feel like sad crying, I hope I'll remember that sad crying is okay too and won't last forever. There are cicadas out in the trees singing and I feel like a cartoon character, floating about the ground in a happy dream state! I may buy another red bull because I'd rater be wired when i get to wellington than tired, I always cry when I'm tired, I'm really still that 5 year old sobbing "I'm not tired" while having an all out tantrum from exhaustion and I find it hard to draw the line between physical exhaustion and emotional. I am determined to stay mindful of my weakenesses and the pitfalls I am prone to, and to recognise, without judgement, the rise and fall of my emotions (yeah, lets see how THAT goes...) hahaha... 

Right, without futher ado, I will leave tyou with my quote of the day (wonderful Alexis gave me this idea, I have alot to thank her for.) 

"No fear, No distractions, the ability to let that which does not matter truly slide." 

When I remember this, I feel a sense of peace. If you haven't read/watched Fight Club, then you should, it's like the tough guys guide to mindfulness. 

Love and best wishes to all, speak soon. 

Xx

So much to say, so little time!

Hello! I'm in Singapore airport, I don't have enough time to say all the things I'd like to so I much be quick and just tell you all I love you! My wonderful Mum dropped me off at the airport and although I wanted to stay clinging to her like a drowned rat, I decided I had to leave sooner or later. I have been very reasonable (lets see how long THAT lasts)!

I did manage to sleep on the plane, there was an empty seat next to me and I managed to conquer my fear of airport blankets (I'm not even kidding...) long enough to fall asleep, I'm still extra tired though. Anyway, 1 flight down, 2 to go!! Changi  airport is still beautiful and tranquil, I love it, nothing like the cattlemartket that is Heatherow terminal 3 departures!! I have taken a few photos so will include them. 

I like traveling, I don't just mean going to new places, I mean the travelling part. I think thinking and working things out and if I don't like something, I'm only passing through. It's arriving that scares me! No matter how much I love Wellington, I will arrive overtired, jetlagged, hungry, scared, homesick and in need to a serious hug. Shall we take bets of how much I freak out when I get there? I probably will, at least I'm expecting it this time. 

I have had such amazing comments on my blog and I can't thank you all enough, you can't imagine how much it means to me that I feel so supported and validated, that so many kind people share with me their thoughtfulness and care. Thank you all, I will be replying to comments while I'm here (maybe not all the time) and I'm sorry I haven't thanked you all sooner, I was in what I call 'doomsday mode'. 

I am now at the gate, ready to depart on the next leg, I am nervous but I have to remember that I chose this trip, I chose every single aspect of it and all I need to do now is try to make the most of what is quite frankly an amazing oportunity. 

Last point, no one in the whole lounge is talking, except a group of New Zealanders, it is heartening and puts a smile on my face. I hope there is much more of it to come! 

So I'm in Italy...

Well I'm in Italy, not much to write at this point so mostly photos. It's misty and rainy and cold here but sessions start this morning and there is a heated indoor pool I may try after. 

...And breakfast. 

Enjoy! 

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.

Into the west

If you don't get that title reference, I'm disowning you. Start googling!
Right, for those of you with better, vaster, wiser minds, I am now in singapore, it is 28 degrees, I am wearing a 3 layers, including thermals AND a jumper. I've got 18 until I'm due to arrive Heathrow. Including 14 hours of flying. I am tired, if I was in NZ I would have been fast asleep hours ago, but if I want to shake jet lag, I will have to adhere to british hours. Should be time for bed shortly after I get on the plane. I can't wait to touch down in lovely Britain, but I do already miss New Zealand, wellington at least. I feel a bit dizzy which is probably lack of sleep, it is weird here, I'm sitting by the airport Koi pond. There is a cinema here too, and a butterfly garden, all in departures. It makes Heathrow look like a cattle market. It is the most amazing airport. Like a little indoor town. Very laid back and full of places to rest and relax, there are windows (no windows in Heathrow!) and fountains. Ahhh I hope I sleep on the plane. Oh well, I have run out of things to say, have a nice day!! My next plane is an airbus A380, the biggest passenger plane around today... In case you were wondering.

And breath...

So I am in Wellington again! Considering I spent a large section of my time in Wellington fretting, you might wonder how I feel being here for the second time in as many weeks... SO RELIEVED!
I am very happy with where I am staying! It is in a nice location and there are buses here throughout the day, I am only a few minutes walk from the sea. Coincidentally if I walked up the road I am on, and kept following it, I could walk both to the zoo, and to the last place I stayed in Wellington! It is raining and I am exhausted to bits, but if that's all I have to complain about then I am lucky indeed! I have booked a flight back to Christchurch from here, as that is where I will be flying home from, and it was cheaper to fly than take the coach/ferry AGAIN! I am in bed with a hot water bottle, I had Dinosaur pasta for tea, I have my own bathroom again. What's not to smile about. If only my favourite people were here to enjoy it with me, but I am happy to post something with less than my usual amount of moaning!
I hope you are all snug in your beds! Don't get up today, have a lie in... ALL DAY! Make sure to watch Lord of the rings and eat Pumpkin soup. You can eat a whole cake for dinner, don't feel guilty, blame me. Have lovely days the lot of you!
Tomorrow I may do no more than wash my hair, but I may do much more! I have no idea, it mostly depends on the weather. I with you all lots of love, xx

Where's the Diazepam?

It's 5.15 and I just woke up to the sound of rain hard on my window. I now have to get up, pack, take a taxi into the city and stand in that rain before travelling on coach and then ferry for ten and a half hours. Why won't New Zealand stop following me? Everywhere I go, New Zealand seems to be there too! Where's Britain? Where's my bed? Where's my Diazepam, right, I'm going to need that.

Well I'm not going to tell you about yesterday if that's what you're thinking.

No seriously, I'm saving that!
Today I took the ferry from Wellington to Picton and the coach from Picton to Christchurch. I felt dreadful leaving the home in Wellington, not Wellington itself, I hadn't got to know it yet, but the home, my hosts and Juno were reluctantly left behind. The ferry trip was heartbreakingly beautiful, taking me entirely by surprise as I had no preconceived idea of what it would be like. The coach trip too had some beautiful scenery, although I must admit I had a severe case of coach trip paranoia (a phenomena quite common for me) and was convinced not only that the other passengers hated me, but that everyone I love would be dead by the time I reached my destination! I bumped into Simon and our well meaning dutch girl (whose name I can't spell!) from my last home stay who were in Kaikoura where we stopped off for a 30 refreshment break, small world! (Or country.) I did need to take 2 more buses once I got to Christchurch, something I did with little problem but much worrying. Not I am here, my Host has assured my there's "not much to do in Christchurch." How... Refreshing! We shall see what tomorrow brings, I am tired and right now I would sooner be back in Wellington or even Auckland. Good night!

Get ready, it's a long one... (And a weird one...)

today I woke up 7.30 and I couldn't get back to sleep so I started planning my Day. I was hoping to go to Pasifika and the Zoo as they are right next to each other. It took me over an hour of scouring the Internet to find the right bus, not a single site was helpful! I eventually found a route map and pieced it together from that! Ridiculous! Anyway, I cooked myself some Pasta ready for tea tonight (whose idea was it to hide the washing up equipment when they left me alone in this house??) and eventually left for the bus. With an immense amount of worrying I actually managed to catch the RIGHT one, (Mt Eden Station to Britomart) which I now know isn't all that impressive… All roads lead to Britomart it would seem! I then waited a very long time at a very busy bus stop at Auckland's main bus station and eventually caught a bus to Great north road opposite motion street. Well done me! On the bus I witnessed the most wonderfull coming together of cultures. An older frenchman, decided to engage EVERYONE around him with stories of his life, his upcoming wedding, and quite unapologetically, of his conception! He targeted two couples specifically, as they were closest and at the journey went on, the conversation turned to pronouncing words. The couples were both a French boy with a Japanese girl, and I don't think they knew each other either! It was wonderful watching five people all trying to explain the meaning of different words to each other, but in English, which was no ones first language! It was great. Then we arrived. I looked over at Pasifika and instantly realised the only reason I wanted to go was so I looked like I'd done something worthwhile, “look at Hannah, out in New Zealand, going to cultural festivals” when actually I just wanted to go to the zoo. It looked far too commercial for me, all stages and thousands of people. I was sort of expecting something like the German Market at Christmas only with Pacific islands showcasing their cultures, but it was more like a music festival and it just didn't appeal to me. I decided the wiser thing to do would be to do what I wanted to do, not what I thought I should do because other people would be pleased. So, I went to the zoo. Admission was reduced because Pasifika next door, so that was positive too! I didn't see all that many animals, most of the good ones were hiding, although that depends which you consider 'the good ones' (the big cats, obviously! I got some good photos which I can't post now, but will soon. There where a few VERY high points, most notably, I saw a Kiwi. Not a fruit, not a person, a bird. A real, live, indigenous, endangered brown Kiwi. They are faster and bigger than I expected! I have to admit that this has been a dream of mine since I was a small child and after that I decided I couldn't really complain if I didn't see a single other animal that day. It was only 10 minutes or so later that I saw the eels swimming and I knew I had to be somewhere. I rocketed past all the other enclosures, saying hello to the animals who were there and moving past the animals who weren't. No Servals, No Lions, No Cheetahs!! What a jip! So I said one last good by to the Tiger, who was sulking the other side of the enclosure and hopped on a bus back to Britomart. I'm serious, I HOPPED on a bus! ME!! Literally, the bus that was already at the stop, not even a bus that I had looked up in advance! Although obviously I bought a ticket to where I wanted to go, I didn't just get on any bus, I'm not MAD! And from Britomart I headed towards Mission Bay to SEA LIFE! I knew I needed to be there, so I went. There were stingrays as big as me, Pinguins (go on, say it out loud, you'll sound like a New Zealander!) and Eels in abundance! There were some fascinating Octopods, and I took far to many videos of their beautifully ugly arms, suckers a plenty, swirling around! There were sharks, lovely sharks and best of all the sharks was a little smooth hound! I thought “Hello friend, you are like a little piece of my favourite memories!”. But all these beautiful and wonderful things could never live up to the WONDER and SPLENDOUR of what else they had. I think it was meant to be. I think I was MEANT to go there, I think it was CALLING ME.
ARCHITEUTHIS DUX. If the name sounds familiar but you have no Idea what godly animal I am referring to, then maybe you have heard my song 'Is that okay?'. Obviously not a living god, this was a 12 year old specimen, presumably in formaldehyde (but there was no information) and the most horrifically magnificent decaying animal I have ever seen! I left feeling amazed yet a little unsatisfied, it was my least favourite aquarium, probably just below silent world. It promised more than it delivered. I hopped home on 2 more buses (bringing today's total to 6!) not bad for a bus phobic recluse!
Now I am home, I think I will have to go and buy some more Apples before I leave for Wellington as I will probably not get a chance...I have PLANS for tomorrow and may not get back until the evening, then the next day is all travelling!!
I have sun burn! Love you all!!
(I will post Zoo/Aquarium photos another time when I can.)