When Ed was younger he arrived home one day and noticed a small hole in the floorboards. He of course stuck his finger in, as you do, and got it stuck. He was stuck there for hours unable to move, until someone came home and helped him get it out. But he had made the most of the situation...he read a few magazines which were within reach and never complained. I think he even took a nap.
Sometimes it's inevitable you have to stay in one place for a while when you're traveling, and you've got to just make the most of it. So I find myself here in Blenheim, one of N.Z.s biggest wine regions, knowing I'll be staying here for a while. Wine related work seems to be the way to go.
Brian and Ciara are here and are the biggest factor in my decision to try and live here for a bit. They're saving for their final surge towards home, and once they leave I don't really know how long it'll be before I see them again. And when I get home Brian will no longer be my neighbour, so this is a last grasp at that kind of thing I guess.
So I have said goodbye to the campervan and its crew. More indefinite goodbyes, immediately after my indefinite goodbye with Maxi.
Lynn, Ed, Orla and I had carried on south from Taupo and did a days walk at the Tongariro Crossing which was nice. It was Mordor in Lord of The Rings. I promise that will be my only LOTR reference since I couldn't really give a toss, but I'm sure some people do. Strange really, I don't think the author ever came to N.Z. but he had possibly been Tolkien about it. Boom boom.
We then got the car ferry across to the south island. It was unbelievably expensive, so we decided that Orla and I would hide in the campervan while we drove on and off the boat. Stowaways like. It was scary and extreme and all that, but there was absolutely no problems and we saved ourselves 100 bucks. Highly recommended.
They've dropped me in Blenheim and have continued on throughout N.Z. before flying out in a week or two. It was great fun while it lasted. It was all very short, but we did so much and I guess living in each other's pockets made it seem like a big chapter in this holiday. Short but intense, like sticking your face in a microwave. Sleeping in each others pockets like Charlie's grandparents.
I still stand by the fact that Lynn and Ed are two of the best people in the world to travel with. Even being a couple doesn't seem to make them annoying at all.
Ed can motivate you to do anything. He doesn't make you do stuff, but makes you genuinely want to do it. He'd make a good political dictator. You'd be a real peaceful nation that drinks alot. But if he felt like it he could give a speech that would make you want to go to war. You'd be more than happy to invade New Caledonia for no apparent reason. It's weird because at home whenever I meet him he's usually unable to talk.
I would say Lynn is my favourite travel buddy in the world. At home we hate each other, but when we're backpacking it seems to work. She's so damn intelligent, she's positive, she's hilarious, she likes doing the same things as me while backpacking, and she's great at organising. She also wears very little clothing at times which is nice. But yet I have no interest in here whatsoever. I think she must have been the first girl that I understood the concept of being friends with. Before her I thought "platonic" was a word used to trick a girl into scoring me.
Every single person you meet loves her...you can see everyone immediately warm to her. Every random. Every tour guide. It's like traveling with a fucking rainbow. Lynn God Hicks. Punky Fucken Brewster.
And Orla's Orla. She'll always be one of my favourite people in the world.
I had my first day of work pruning at a vineyard. Not as bad as I thought it would be so I'll probably stick at it for a while. I'm kind of aching now...my wrist hasn't been this sore since I hit puberty, but I guess I'll get used to it. Like a total muppet I completely gashed my finger on the first vine and spent the rest of the day bleeding all over the place. I don't know how that will affect the grapes. I can picture some wine expert in a few years confused at the hint of pizza in his Cabernet Sauvignon.
So here I am again. Settling down. Sweet as. I think I'm becoming addicted to settling down. You find a new place, get to know your favourite spots, find a place to live, find work, make some friends, find some poor excuse for a love interest (who is actually just annoying)...and then when it looks like I have something resembling a life I can just piss off.
Blenheim Hotels
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