Adventures- Part 1

The adventure began when I left Dad at Auckland domestic airport. Mum had already been in England two weeks, while Dad wanted to work a little longer at home in NZ. Which is understandable, we each know how stressful it is darting around the country to see people and feeling like a burden while we lug our massive cases around after us!

I flew from Auckland down to Christchurch as my cheap fare would only let me fly from there. Once on the plane to Kuala Lumpur, I discovered I had two free seats next to me, BONUS! Having arrived in Kuala Lumpur, I proceeded through passport control to claim my baggage and set off in search of a shuttle bus to my hotel. I walked outside and found myself within the bustle of taxi’s and buses, I attempted to read signs to find the bus. After asking a Malaysian man for directions, I met a lady who seemed just as stressed as I did. She turned out to be Italian, from Rome. We had a semi awkward conversation in half English and half Italian and established that she was also a Montessori teacher. Coincidence? It was an interesting bus ride, until she suggested she came and stayed with me at my hotel, I made out that I didn’t understand and smiled ‘Arrivederci!’ as she, among all the other tourists, got off the bus. As the bus sat at the International terminal, it began to fill up with airport workers going home from their evening shift. I started to worry that I wasn’t on the right bus, so I smiled at the man behind and pointed to my hotel confirmation that was tightly gripped in my hand. With my exceedingly clear English, I asked if the bus went to Sepang.

It was nearing midnight, I had landed almost two hours before. At this point I was getting a little edgy. During my time on the bus, I talked to the man about my travels. He suggested that he take me to the hotel from the bus stop. At this point I was faced with a big decision; Do I jump off the bus and find my own was through a foreign country at midnight? Or do I trust my judgement and go with the stranger who seems pretty genuine in saying he wants to deliver me safely to the hotel? I swallowed my fear and considered every detail of the conversation and the environment. With hop skip and a trip, I landed on top of my suitcase as the bus pulled away (I was pretty glad no one knew me while I made a fool out of myself). Zipping through the streets in a little Malaysian car, the man pointed to the bus stop and then my hotel.

After a rather chilly night of horrid air conditioning, I woke up to Malaysian daylight streaming through my hotel curtains. Upon looking at the view outside the hotel, I was mighty glad the man had given me a lift from the bus stop. Although it wasn’t the worst case scenario slums, I wouldn’t have wanted to walk through on my own, at midnight, with my life in a suitcase.

Dressed and ready for my next day of flying, I met a friend in the lobby of my hotel and continued on to the airport (that’s after I pinched some toothpaste after stupidly forgetting my own!). It was great to stop off and see a friendly face in the meantime. The hotel shuttle took us to the airport, rattling along passed little villages, which all looked so different in daylight! After spending a few hours together at the airport, we went our separate ways, he to Hong Kong and I to Stanstead.

It’s always the big question when travelling on a plane, who will I sit next to? Will it be the screaming child? The old man that snores? I have to say, I was rather lucky on this flight, having sat next to a guy who was around my age, who was Malaysian but studying at Sheffield university. We discussed everything, from politics and education, to his religion as a Hindu and the ideal wedding. Strange as it may be, we had a great time chatting, then napping and chatting a little more!

Stanstead came. I never realised how horrid the airport was. When I landed, I wanted to get back on the plane again. It has to be said, I was very tearful when we stopped for coffee en route back to Wales. My sheer exhaustion couldn’t put on the brave face any longer. However happy I was to see my sister, Emma and Mum, I wasn’t overly pleased with leaving New Zealand. It suddenly hit me that the next month or so was going to be very hard. Being here, there and everywhere is stressful, and without any transport it is not overly easy to arrange and organise when to see people.

The jetlag hit me like I had never experienced before, I felt sea sick for at least three days after flying. The first weekend I spent in the peaceful village of Grosmont with my sister, brother in law and nephews. It was wonderful to meet the latest addition for the first time! Monday spun around and my best mate Lizzie had decided to pay a visit, so we spent the day with the nephews and walked up to the castle. Later in the week I was able to see my brother, Paul, sister in law, Lorna and other beautiful nephew! However brief our meeting, it was great to see them again.

The weekend came, and I was debating what to do. With jetlag and early nights still in the loop hole, I felt like I just wanted to stop. The ideal opportunity came when our friends of the family Helen and Bill where to set off for the lake district and made me feel welcome to join them.

To slip away from reality is something that is needed every so often. We travelled six hours to the Lake District. Signposts showing the way passed Birmingham and Manchester, we slipped off the M6 as signs of Scotland had started to appear. We were travelling to the back and beyond.

Towering peaks greeted us as we drove through the blissful countryside. This place has been the inspiration of many authors and poets, with its rolling hills, twisting rivers and beautiful lakes. What made this place different is that it is a gem hidden within Britain. The old stone walls tumble down the sides of the mountains, leisurely marking out the boundaries to the grazing cattle. As we drove through the villages, there was an abundance of people with walking boots and sticks, scuttling their way down well-worn footpaths.

The house in which we were staying had been used on countless opportunities by our friends and their children, even my sister and her family came here a few years ago. However far away, it was a meeting point for everyone, coming together over home cooked meals and a few pints down the local. On the Saturday we arrived through the stone pillar gates and along a stone driveway lined with blossoming trees to be greeted by a house that is literally straight out of a movie. This farm in particular was used by the film crew during the making of ‘Miss Potter’, a recent film made to tell the story of Beatrix Potter.



After staying there a week, I had had the privilege to see and experienced a great deal of England’s countryside and culture. I always thought it was a little odd that I had travelled more of other countries than I had my own country. However nice it is to return to England, sometimes the visiting people can get a little overwhelming and I now have discovered the pleasures of slipping off and being a tourist.
A list of some of activities included-

Walking around Loweswater Lake


Visiting the surrounding towns and villages/ shopping!


Walking around Buttermere Lake


Visiting the local pub (the Kirkstile)


Walking up near Skafell Pike (highest mountain in England)



Visiting Scotland and Hadrians Wall in one day!



Visiting Beatrix Potters house...



And many many hot chocolates after getting battered by the wind and cold.

When I arrived back in Hampshire, it was quite a relief to be back to normal but on the other side, I had to take a teaspoon of concrete and start making plans to see people. I have to say, I don’t enjoy this ‘limbo’ feeling, I have finished the last chapter of my life in NZ, and this interval in England is hard to appreciate, when all I’m considering is the daunting prospects of my next chapter in Italy. Got to start enjoying what I do have and that is friends and family to visit.

Aotearoa- End of a Chapter

It was very strange to think that my class and co-teacher went back to school today, and I wasn’t there. Hard to switch off to something you become so attached to, as like New Zealand. Admittedly, I arrived in England and cried. I cried from tiredness and reality hit home, so I was upset. After spending nearly six years creating a life and opportunities in New Zealand, I’d left it. Not just for a holiday either, without a return ticket, it’s unnerving to ponder about flying home as I won’t know when it’ll be. I’m fearful that people would think that I dislike coming back to England. Quite the contrary! I love to come back and reignite the love I have for this land and rekindle the friendships and relationships here. However, it is very difficult to feel settled. I think backpackers must get used to it, yet I am on my way to discovering how to handle feeling so lost. I’ve left my home in NZ without a return ticket, to then linger in England and visit friends and family before moving on to Italy. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions.

Before leaving, I made sure I reserved time to visit people and take in as much of Aotearoa as possible. It started off with a walk up the bush out the back of my parents’ property. After living there five years, I still hadn’t tramped to the top of the ridge and seen the views of Auckland and Rangitoto. One Sunday morning, when I was up north visiting Mum and Dad, I requested a walk up the ridge! It took us two hours to get up there, and just 45 minutes to get back down! It was lovely to appreciate another thing on the backdoor step!



The week after, a party had been organised by the likes of my mum, dad and myself. With an oil drum converted to a fire, a gazebo borrowed from a wonderful contact at work, two barbeques creating vegetarian and meaty meals and party games to get people talking and keep them entertained, we had a pretty awesome night. The first half seemed to be the families with children, who we kept busy with a treasure hunt and a drink in hand (fizzy for the kids!). At around 8 o’clock, there seemed to be a swap over and some friends, who had been working or play sports, came to relax in front of the fire with a beer and burger in hand. It was a glorious night, wrapped up in blankets with whiskey in our glasses, fire at our feet and a sky splattered with stars overhead.



With trips to Leigh, Goat Island, Omaha and other local hotspots, I felt satisfied that it was exactly where I liked to be. It’s strange; my attraction to New Zealand is the total opposite to England. England I love for its land that has been worn by history and rich with culture, New Zealand for its diverse beauty and tranquillity. After living in Italy for a year, I predict I will love it there for completely different reasons!



After the party, I had set time aside to meet whoever I could arrange to see in the time I had left. It turned into shopping trips, coffees, lunches, dinners and drinks at the local. It was wonderful to catch up on a one to one basis with people I hadn’t seen in days, months and even years. I met the lovely ladies from Montessori and had a lovely day shopping and spending money, they encouraged me to get something kiwi to take back with me. So we agreed on an All Blacks shirt, which I might have to selective about wearing (Yes I did zip up my jumper a little so that the Welsh rugby boys at the park wouldn’t give me the glare!).



As the weekend went on, Dad and I entertained ourselves by doing the rounds to people around Auckland. We drove to Waipu on Good Friday and saw the countless Minis driving the ‘Goodbye Pork Pie’ route through New Zealand (a classic kiwi movie about a guy driving a mini from the tip of the north island to Bluff in the South Island, which seems quite irrelevant in this here story…but thought it would be a good detail to add!). What was so lovely about the week before I left is that I realised just how many people in New Zealand had affected my life, warmed my heart with their care and friendship. My greatest fear leaving New Zealand is that I would lose all connections that I have built over the years. A few friends laughed at the thought, however having left a country before, I know how hard it can be to keep in contact with people over the years. I think I have come to the agreement in my mind, that if the friendship crumbles away, it was for a reason. It had its time and if it was meant to be, then the friendship would have continued. If for some reason things fall apart with friends, I can be glad that I have some fantastic memories. Yet, I am not wishing any friendships away! With fingers and toes crossed, I am hoping that these special people will be in my life for more than just a season.




Over the weekend, I sent out a text to a couple of people I met a few years ago on a course of ‘transformation’! As the westie crew, we met up regularly after the course and guided each other through some huge hurdles in our lives. Having only seen these guys once over the last year and a half, you may think it quite odd to have requested to have a drink with them before leaving! Yet, they both had a huge impact on my life in totally different ways, and strangely for the lack of time that we spend together, they know me as well as my mother does! They know my flaws and how I handle life. I thank them, one for making the commitment to catch me for one last drink and the other for driving up to visit at the house and pick feijoas!




I also saw my good friend Roshni the week before I left. It has to be said that Roshni and I are like chalk and cheese, I’m a country girl, she’s a true city chick, however when we get gossiping or talking about life, we understand one another. Over the last year, I’ve turned into a Nanna, denying many opportunities to let loose on the town with Roshni, due to the recovery time during the week! In many ways our lives started to branch apart, and it was very hard to accept it after being so close knit during university years. That Monday we met up, it was so fantastic to share and talk again. I had missed it, and I am so glad we found the time and created the opportunity to sit down for hours in the café and then do what we do best! Threading…ouch! It was our tradition which had to be lived one more time before leaving. It was our time to chat with our surrogate foreign Mum in the hairdressers, who has looked after our hairiness and listened to our boyfriend trouble for at least two years now! It started to hit home what I was doing when I saw my friend in tears as I gave her one last hug. We knew it wouldn’t be goodbye forever as I think she’ll need someone to stay with and help her shop for shoes and handbags in Milan when she visits Italy!






Easter Monday rocked around, and we had arranged to have a drink at the local pub. There I was going to meet a couple of the girls from the ice cream café that I worked in for…oh dear…4 years on and off? Plus my old flatmate and fiancé met us there. Having so many separate memories with each of them it was funny bringing them together over a drink!



Elyse from the café, started out being one of the younger girls who worked after school and weekends. We spent many working days together and a few slaving summers in the heat of the kitchen. Working in that café could drive you crazy. With some of the summer days came queues of people out the door from 9.30am to 9.30pm when we had to force the doors shut. It was an amazing experience, however working so closely with the crew for a good 10 hour day came with the price of hostility, madness and sudden outbursts of anger (either at customers, food or the team). Elyse and I have remained friends ever since. Those days we spent in close proximity allowed us to communicate and understand each other in a way that is very unique. That wasn’t the last time I saw Elyse though, on the afternoon before I left, we took a drive out to Omaha as the clouds had cleared the sun had started to peep through. Once we got there, we admired such a glorious day. It felt like summer again! The sun was beaming, the waves rolling onto the beach with a handful of surfers gazing into the distant ocean. As we walked up the beach we splashed our feet and took in the sheer beauty. I said to Elyse that after a week of rain, it decided to brighten up for my last afternoon in the country as if to say ‘Here look, this is what you’ll be missing out on!’



My old flatmate from last year must have been crazy to live with me. Although after a few questionable evenings I came to the conclusion we’re both as odd as each other! If it wasn’t for Jordan last year, I have no idea how I could have handled such a turbulent year. Like a brother, when I arrived home from a hard day, he made me a cup of tea and nodded carefully when I poured all my ‘problems’ out. It was lovely to witness, after a few wrong turns, him falling head over heels with such a fantastic girl. With a fair few memories of the two of them, there is no way I can forget such a house and flatmate!

Love and miss you NZ x