Journey is change

France changed me.  Well, not really.  I feel like I'm changing - finally - and one of the factors was my recent trip to France.  Yes, I know I haven't written anything about that here yet, and I had told people that I would blog and share and I didn't and that was largely because the trip was contributing to so much change inside me that I couldn't even digest it all while it was happening, let alone write about it, and least of all share it.  It's starting to really sink in now, not just about the amount of change, but the kind of change. 

Someone at work asked how my vacation went, and when I told him that it was life-changing, he said "Wow.  I'd love to talk with you about that some time, about what that means to you".  And that's when it hit me that I really hadn't been able to absorb the magnitude of it all yet.  Now that I'm starting to figure that out, I want to write it down and hopefully say it so that in a few years, I'll remember it.  And the change (which I believe to be positive and beneficial) becomes more permanent.

So.  Went to France a couple of weeks ago.  It was something that kind of happened out of the blue, and when I first signed up, I didn't think I was ready for it yet.  It wasn't just a vacation, it was a Photography Retreat.  Since getting sort of serious about photography a couple of years ago, and going through various phases of seriousness, interwoven with bouts of pipe dream and laced with moments of you-must-be-crazy-you'll-never-make-this-happen, I realized that the path I was on was fun.  I loved it, and I wanted more.  I was making connections with really cool people, and discovering the creative side of me and realizing that other people kind of liked that side of me.  And that the path was a whole lot longer than I ever dreamed it would be, so I better get my ass in gear and start walking that path.

France.  Photography retreat.  Doesn't sound like it's going to be life-changing.  It wasn't just about the place - although if you ever do go there, and let it soak into your being, you'll discover that it can have that power.  It wasn't just about the photography, although my creative side was a big part of what changed.  Being influenced/guided/coached by the magical Karen Hutton?  In 5 days I learned more from just watching her and listening to her than I could have possibly imagined, and she gave so much more.  It wasn't just about the people that I met, amazing as they are, and as much fun as we had, and the way that we all wound up kind of taking care of each other.  Rowan/Robin, Lieke/Lola, Rozelle/Sophia, Tanya/Taylor, Jim/McGruff, Resi dear Resi, the amazing Karen, Brian (the invisible, the invincible)...all the most incredible souls. 

My life changed?  I changed?  More like, I accepted the invitation to change, to feel the change, to change more quickly, to start the process of change.  What changed?  I think first, my spirit.  I think my spirit finally started to calm down.  Resi, at one point during the week, said that she liked me because I am a "sturdy" person.  I'm pretty sure she meant that as a compliment, and it really kind of surprised me, because I don't think of myself that way at all.  But seeing the whirlwind that was her life made me feel like a rock set in concrete.  Karen gave me this phrase to start believing in:  "I am Unbound Creativity".  Wow.  Me?  I'm just discovering that I have any creativity at all!  And someone already sees that in me? 

I am changing.  I am finding courage in my creativity.  I am seeing myself differently.  I am worrying less about what others may think of me because it's a lot better than what I thought it was, and I am beginning to FEEL (and not just know in my head) that what others think is less important than how I think about myself.  I am more comfortable being the me that I am, and not spending so much time trying to be the me that I want to be for others.  Why did I have to get so old to figure all this out?  And it's still an ongoing process. 

France.  Ah France.  Ooh la la.  It's a part of me, and I need to try and catch the memories and write them down here so that I remember those parts better, while it's still kind of fresh.  Already I have lost so many of the details, and it has only been a couple of weeks.  But for now, I need to take one of the pieces out and care for it.  It's nice outside, a rarity for mid-October, and I want to take the camera for a walk.

Trusting my journey - Day 2, four months later....

OK, dear blog.

When I was a kid, the big thing was for a young lady (now we think of them as "tweens") to have a diary.  I'm reasonably certain this was a carryover from previous generations, when young women were meant to stay at home under the care of their father until a gentleman chose her, and a diary was a way to pour out one's deepest secrets without fear of anyone overhearing and judging.  Now, people pour out their deepest secrets to the whole world via social media, and then get upset because their privacy has been violated.  How times have changed.

So don't expect to read any deep secrets here, but I do enjoy writing to get the weird thoughts out of my head.  I don't really care if anyone else reads what I write, and less if they agree.  Everyone has their own experience, has come to their own conclusions, and I'm more than happy to hear someone else's perspective, with which I may agree, or not.

My grandmother kept a diary.  Or rather several.  When she filled one, she would start another.  She would record the weather, who came to visit, or community events, births and weddings and deaths.  It held virtually no inner thoughts, let alone deep secrets.  The diary I kept when I was a teenager was practically empty.  There was no way I was going to risk writing anything down that I might be held accountable for later, just in case anyone ever found it.

Over the years, diaries turned into journals, and keeping a journal was "discovered" to have great mental health benefits.  Ya.  Then along came the web, and logging your life, web log became blog.  And I finally figured out what a great tool this is to, well, get the weird stuff out of my head.  Which is what young women used to do with their diaries, and psychologists encouraged their patients to do with their journals.  Except that if you look at enough blogs, you'll see that weird is relative - almost nothing is weird because almost everything is, and there really isn't any such thing as normal.  But what do I know?  Just spouting random thoughts, getting them out of my head so I can focus on other things.  The difference between a blog and a diary?  I can type faster than I can write, almost as fast as the thoughts come into my head.  My pen could never keep up.

So, in a couple of days, I can once again get out the Peter Pan Getaway boots.  Road trip!  Chicago this time.  Can't wait, even though it's only for a long weekend.  It's wonderful to have amazing and generous friends who invite me to stay with them, and ride on the tall ship.  Linda (New Zealand Linda) is coming along and we are all singing friends, so what better way to spend a few days than singing, traveling, taking amazing photographs of places I've never been and things I've never seen, sharing time with wonderful and beautiful people, and who knows, maybe the weird stuff will get replaced with cool stuff.

Trusting my journey - Day 1

"Nothing changes if you don't change anything".  Or something like that.  It might be more appropriate to say that, as we get older, if we don't change anything, things will change but not the way we want them too.  This has been my experience in the last few years, as I've hit the dreaded "M" word (that would be menopause, just to be clear), and my body has suddenly started hoarding calories and fat in the form of extra pounds, accumulating exponentially.

It would be really easy to make excuses, like "oh, I never used to have to exercise and so now it's taking a long time to work exercise into my routine", or "now that I've downsized to an apartment I don't have as much housework or outside home maintenance to keep me active".  But the bottom line is that I've gotten lazy, and tired, and the less active I am, the lazier I get.  And I know that if I got off my ass and moved more, I would not feel as tired - opposite to what one would expect.  And beneath that layer, I'm sick and tired of feeling sick and tired, and having it be such an effort to appear happy and well-balanced, when I'm not.

OK, so let's be real.  I have been making excuses.  But it's not easy to just stop making excuses.  Essentially, excuses are somewhat invalid reasons for not doing something.  Is there any underlying valid reason?  Semantics?  So, this is the first thing I need to change, in order to change the changes.  Let's face it, I'm not old.  Not even a little bit.  I'm only 55.  That means, according to standard life expectancy, I'm really only 2/3 of the way through life.  Heck, I still have to work and earn a living for a few years before I can afford to retire.  Do I want to still be healthy and active at that point?  Damn straight.  And that means I need to be more healthy and active now, otherwise another 10 years of this bullshit is going to see me not enjoying my retirement doing the things I love, because I won't be able to.

So setting a lot of other goals, like travelling, photography, hiking and adventuring, seeing places others don't get to see, won't be possible if I can't walk/maneuver because of my weight (no I'm not that big yet), or because my knee has gone completely arthritic, or my feet are in pain all the time.

Excuses.  Yes, and I hate when others use them.  So another change will be to lose the hypocrisy.

What are my excuses?  One is the dreaded "change of life".  Although I managed to avoid most of the commonly related symptoms of menopause, the weight gain made up for it.  The onset of this magical time in every woman's life coincided exactly with my move to a condo apartment in a highrise, and although the living space I have now is almost what it was in my last place, I have no outside lawn care or snow removal to keep me active.  And living on the 15th floor makes it less "available" to simply step outside for a bit of a walk.

Enough excuses.  I need to substitute other activity if I'm not getting it by necessity.  And I haven't been.  And there are no excuses for that.  So I joined a Zumba class.  And that's when the plantar fasciitis kicked in yet again.  (another excuse?  Excuse me, but...)

OK, let's start fixing this shit.  If it means I can't do any weight-bearing exercise or activity, then I will work first on healing this damn heel, and eat less to compensate.  Starting today.  That's right, not tomorrow.

This blog will hopefully give me the support that I need to keep motivated, and stay on track.  First the heel, and the diet, then the exercise.  Today went well.  Kept my foot elevated for most of the day, and purchased some gel arch supports designed for this condition.  I can wear them even if I'm not wearing shoes.  Went outside and clambered about through a farmer's field shooting a sunset (with the camera).  Felt great.  Came home, ate a healthy snack, and now on my way to bed for a decent sleep.  Tomorrow, ah, what will you bring me tomorrow?

The ferry ride

I never did get a chance to either blog or post pictures between San Fran and Blenheim.  Just a blurb I think.  It is absolutely essential that I try to catch this stuff as I think about it, so anyone who may be reading, forgive the ramblings of an eccentric old woman.  Oh wait, I'm not quite there yet.  OK, a nutso middle-aged broad.

We finally did arrive in Auckland, and the airport at 9 a.m. is nothing amazing.  The last time I was here I arrived at around sunrise, and remember sitting outside, basking in the warmth and sipping a flat white while waiting till it was time to get to the other terminal (domestic) for my next flight to Blenheim.  This time, we had only a brief respite to haul butts over, no time for a flat white or indulging the warmth.  Actually, this first day in Auckland was pretty darn warm and the trek (missed the terminal shuttle) was a bit overheating, albeit good movement after sitting on a plane for 12 hours.

Finally arrived in Wellington, noon-ish, and now, because we weren't staying for the night (we had done that in Frisco), we had no place to store our bags other than the ferry by checking them in.  It was a bit of a taxi ride from the airport to the Interislander Ferry, although I'm sure the driver took the longest way possible, and we enjoyed the incredible scenery.  Wellington is a beautiful city, especially midday, or really any time of day or night, and the ride was enjoyable and relaxing.  Got to the ferry, and found that we were early enough to catch the earlier ferry.  We could have done that, but I was pretty sure I wanted to catch the sunset from the boat, coming through the Marlborough Sounds.  The sun was due to set around an hour before landing in Picton, and there were a few clouds, so with any luck, we would see some amazing views.

The day was fairly clear, and the sun was warm, and we needed to recharge our batteries.  No, literally, our cell phones were almost dead.  So we settled into the Interislander lounge, found some outlets, and proceeded to charge up.  We had a few hours, but decided that a walk back into the downtown area for lunch (or another taxi ride) would be less enjoyable than relaxing by the harbour, breathing the fresh sea air, and basking in the warm sun.  We would eat on the boat during the brief period that we were mostly surrounded by water.  And so we sat and relaxed, enjoying the view of Wellington.

Then, suddenly it seemed, we were on our way.  Once out on the open water, the wind was pretty strong - and cool - but the view was worth it.  Staying on the second level down sheltered by the cabin helped a bit so that's where we stayed until we were out of sight of most land - or at least scenic views - like this one.

After grabbing a bite to eat at the small cafe on board, we ventured again outside to catch the sunset, as we were nearing the entrance to the Marlborough Sounds, a very scenic area with hills on both sides, and virtually uninhabited.  Lush green awaited us, and the sun was getting quite low in the sky.  Unfortunately, with no cloud, and not much colour, the long-anticipated sunset cruise was a bit of a wash, but still lovely.

By now, it was pretty cool on the deck, so we went inside for a glass of wine before docking.  Our friend Gary had said that we would have a great view through the glassed in deck at the stern (back) of the boat, but all the glass was completely dirty, and you could barely see through it.  Oh well, next time!

Looking back.... and forward

So.  Now that I'm back in the land of flat earth.  Having left the land of Middle Earth.  As seen on the terminal at the Wellington NZ airport.

What a joy and blessing to have experienced such a fantastic adventure.  And yes, adventure it has been.  So much so, that I never really had time to capture everything that I wanted to, as I was simply too busy adventuring.  And no, I don't really care that "adventuring" is not a real word.  It should be.

Did I mention that the whole thing started off with a bang?  Or rather, a really long wait in an airport.  Followed by an even longer wait on an airplane.  Followed by a really late (or early?) arrival in San Francisco.  Followed by an unexpected and delightful day in a city that I had never been to.  Although I wasn't able to catch the Golden Gate swathed in golden hour light, I did have the chance to cross it - while not driving myself - and therefore catch a couple of shots that most other people may not get.  How cool is that?

So, to start back at the beginning, and try to share the photos that I wasn't able to share before due to poor connectivity (or no connectivity, or no time), hopefully anyone who has chosen to follow along will not get too bored with the rhetoric, but as I have mentioned, I write this only for my own memories, and share to those who may have a passing interest.  (I should note at this point however, that if you are following, please click the "follow" button, then I don't have to share the link all the time.  Also, feel free to comment.  That way it becomes more of a conversation instead of me doing all the talking.  Blah blah.)

Maybe I should also mention that I'd like to try and keep the feeling alive.  Not only keep it alive, but keep it burning.  Keep the passion.  Keep the focus.  Make the memories stay brilliant.  Use this to launch the next adventure.  Which is what I wonder?  As soon as I'm done with this, I'm going to check my lottery tickets...

So I'm on one of those Hop on Hop off bus tours of San Francisco, instead of touring Wellington NZ, making the best of it on one of the coldest days in SF for eons.  And I was trying to escape the cold by going south.  So much for that.  But there I am with my friend and traveling companion Linda on the open top of a double-decker tour bus, freezing our butts off having not dressed for winter but for SF.  Go figure.  And the bus driver starts driving right across that old iconic bridge the Golden Gate.  No idea why they called it that, anyone else know?  I did read why they left it painted orange (strictly aesthetics, it looks really cool against the foliage and landscape on the "other" side of the bridge).

The wind is blowing hard (nothing to stop it), but somehow I manage to hold on to the camera, which I'm still getting used to (only had it a couple of weeks), set the exposure, and grab a few shots here and there.  I love this one for it's asymmetry, the colours, and the perspective.  It's a little unexpected.  But the light was right and I was having a blast.  I was riding across the Golden Gate bridge for pete's sake!

OK, now off to bed.  Need to get my body back into EST.  Wish me luck.

Nearing the beginning of the next journey

There is a sign (advertisement) in the Christchurch airport that reads "The end of every journey marks the beginning of the next one".  So on Wednesday (I think) we started approaching the beginning of the next journey.  Because that's way better than thinking that we are nearing the end of this journey.

Let me start with the morning after Mount Cook.  So sad to have to leave such a beautiful place.  So tempted to stay an extra half a day, go back up to the mountain in the hopes of seeing it in full daylight, so worth missing the Maori experience that is already booked and paid for in Christchurch for that evening.  But the chances of seeing it cloud free the second day in a row is, we know, very slim indeed.  So we press on, and leave Twizel, and our friend Ian, for a long drive back to Christchurch.

Driving across the country shows us yet another landscape, and the sky is blue with incredible clouds, it is very warm and very windy, and the driving is easy on relatively "flat" and "straight" roads.  Comparatively speaking anyway.  We do find a scenic lookout, and interestingly, one of the best photos of the day comes from looking in the opposite direction.

For the most part, this is a bit of a lunchbag letdown after the scenery we've been seeing for the last couple of weeks. It's still beautiful, just in a much different way.

Driving back into Christchurch, things seem familiar, and at the same time, it feels like it has been weeks since we were last here.  As we approach the hotel, we recognize many of the places our friend Ed showed us a few days ago, the Transitional Church, the tram, New Regent Street where we had coffee while trying to warm up and get dry.  That day it had been very cool and rainy, but today it's sunny and very warm, about 28 C.  No time to think about that, we have booked a package at Willowbank Nature Reserve, complete with a Kiwi tour, a Maori welcome and Haka and Hangi meal.  It starts at 4:30 and we have to battle rush hour traffic.  Which seems incredibly odd considering how little traffic we've had to contend with in the past week or more.

The Nature Reserve is a bit like a miniature African Lion Safari, with great learning programs for kids, very focused on conservation and also on making visitors feel that they are in an authentic environment.  It feels a a bit like we are walking through rainforest or jungle.  After meeting a number of  long-fin eels, several Kea (one of who tried to bite my butt, and another who tried to steal Linda's new necklace while sitting on her shoulder), a Tuatara, and a kiwi, we are treated to a traditional Maori welcoming ceremony, complete with chants and a scary looking chief.  This is followed by a very interesting musical performance and a real haka chant, then a wonderful Hangi meal (food cooked in pots that are buried in coals and earth for several hours), topped with New Zealand Pavlova and Hokey Pokey ice cream.  Tired and happy, we make our way back to the hotel, have a quick glass of wine and hit the sack.  

We had planned to meet our friend Ed for breakfast early this morning, so I got up as early as possible, and just barely caught the sunrise.  The room faces the largest area of devastation from the last earthquake, an area that used to be full of buildings, some of them very tall, that have since been cleared away, leaving an empty hole in the middle of the city where bustling activity used to be.  There are efforts being made to rebuild, but it's going to take a long time I think.  The emptiness and void were very glaring in the early morning light.

We have a wondeful breakfast with Ed, during which we recount our adventures of the past week and a bit, both Linda and I admit a desire to return and hit all the things we missed.  I love the smiles we get from him as we describe the places we saw, some of which he didn't even know about.  Now he is also keen to visit the Maoraki town lighthouse and The Chasm near Milford Sound.  So cool to inspire adventure in someone else.

All too soon it's time to hug farewell, vow to stay in touch, and then part ways.  Since the day has shaped up to be a deliciously warm and sunny day, we decide to revisit some of the places we saw with Ed in the rain.  The old church that was destroyed, and the 185 Chairs memorial.  It's a very different view of things, especially when I realize that all the chairs are facing the "temporary" Transitional Church (a.k.a. the Cardboard Church).  

A tiny bit more shopping in New Regent Street, and then it's time to return the rental car, 3,563 km after we picked it up.  We realize that we have driven in the past 12 days a distance equivalent to Niagara Falls to Calgary.  That doesn't include the miles we were passengers with Gary and Bridget, or with Ian.  Or the miles to get here to this unbelievable country.  

The statue at the Christchurch airport is stunning with the blue sky and green grass reflected in it.  I do a facebook live video and share this with everyone who might be interested by walking all around it.  

All too soon it's time to check our bags and head to Wellington.  The flight is quick, only 35 minutes.  But it's almost dinner time, and although it feels like we've already had a long day, we're hungry.  There's a burger joint not far, and we discover Cuba St. on our way.  After a great burger at BurgerFuel, we explore Cuba St. more carefully.  Most of it is closed off to traffic and is very multi-cultural.  Old buildings, some with date stones that go back more than a century (one was 1903), some art deco, and a Night Market that, if we had known about it, would have skipped the burgers.  There were street vendors all along from just about every country, street musicians, used book stores and vintage clothing stores.

Nothing fancy, but everyone there was having a good time, and we were no exception.  I introduce Linda to churros, and although already stuffed from excellent burgers, we delight in the freshly made cinnamon sugar twists with caramel sauce.

The topping on the cake (yes, even better than churros because there were no calories) was a young man playing a hanging drum - what are the odds?  We had just seen someone in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago playing this unique and hauntingly beautiful instrument, and now we see someone else playing, just as beautifully.  We contribute to his "hat" and learn that he is from Sweden, and as we are chatting with him, another couple approach and ask if he would be interested in working with them in their recording studio as they were looking for interesting and unusual musicians.  Fantastic.

I really do not want this to end, but tomorrow we will fly out, and I will have to catch up when we get home in a couple of days.  It will be time to start a new journey.

A stunning summer day

This was probably the most incredible day of the journey.  I crossed two big things off my bucket list - the Wanaka Tree and Mount Cook.  Yes, THE Mount Cook.

I'm too tired to tell everything, it will have to wait until another day.  But here's the RDCV:

Drive from Queenstown - the Crown Range road was recommended, GPS took a while to get us there, and when we did, hairpin turns all the way up at about 20 degrees.  Insane, but insanely beautiful at the top.  Then coming down was even more amazing.  The rest of the drive to Wanaka was stunning.  Got to Wanaka and found a parking spot fairly quickly, even though the place seemed incredibly busy.  Great restaurant for lunch, Big Fig, "slow food served fast".  Wonderful, and again the food was different here than anywhere else.

Messaged my friend to find out where the tree was, and he gave us very good instructions, which somehow we messed up, but eventually we found THE tree.  Cross one off the bucket list, although it was the middle of the day so lots of other people around, but it was sunny, and about 30 C.  So even though the lake was choppy, and the light wasn't great, I did get a few shots that I was fairly ok with.

After getting a quick sunburn, we carry on towards Twizel.  The Lindis Pass is between and we've been warned that we won't have a cell phone signal through the area.  We don't care, it is so beautiful.  Lots of lupins again, and the drive is fantastic.  Will post photos later.

But when we get to Twizel, it is wonderful to finally meet a friend that I made on facebook - but now in person.  Ian Riddler is a photography friend that I had hoped to meet while I was here.  Not only did he meet us joyfully, but he then drove us up to Mount Cook - and stopped at all the best vantage points along the way so I could get all the iconic shots.  It was amazing.  Especially since for most of the way, there was virtually no cloud on him, which is incredibly unusual, plus we had great sun and sky.

So I did get quite a few shots, and hopefully they turned out well enough to work with them.  This one is SOC, but it's not bad.  What an incredible day.