Assumption is the mother of all fuckups - The attempt of a review

As you may have noticed, I've procrastinated about writing a conclusion of my impressions and experiences in NZ. I find it difficult, for the first time I don't really know what to conclude. However, it's only fair to come up with a conclusion for you, dear readers, even though I don't exactly know who I'm addressing. Sometimes when looking at the number of klicks on some of my posts (highest score is 131), I'm actually surprised, and I'm wondering who you all are. I wasn't aware that I know so many people... But I guess that's just part of the inherent nature of being a blogger (although I don't seriously consider myself to be one).

Anyway, I wanted to write a conclusion, and I can't think of one. This reminds me of situations in class. I always told my students: Don't forget to write a conclusion at the end! and sometimes they would ask me How do I write a conclusion? What do I have to say? I've already said everything I wanted to say etc., upon which I would advise them Sum up and highlight your main points again, but use different words!  ;-)

Well, this is what I'm attempting to do now. To put it in a nutshell, I've had better times than those spent in NZ. I'm not sure whether it's got to do with the disappointment of expectations set too high (hence the title), or with the fact of my being weary of traveling having an influence on how I perceived the country and its people. It took me longer than usual to settle in and adjust to the Kiwi culture; and I dare say until the end of my stay I never managed to fully do so. Kiwis are much more restrained and reserved from what I've come to cherish in the North American mentalities [and this is, by the way, not solely my personal view, but was shared by other travelers with whom I talked about it]. However, I did experience some incidents of extraordinary hospitality, one of which I would like to share with you to do NZ justice and because it was such a unique situation: 

Before arriving on the South Island, I had booked an accommodation in Nelson with a very sweet elderly lady, Pat, whose second pair of house keys I accidentally took when I left. I didn't realise this until I arrived in Takaka (ca 90 km away) and the accommodation there, a hippie commune, didn't provide internet access. I had arranged to stay in this commune for a week during which I was unable to contact Pat, which made me feel very bad but there was nothing I could do about it. After this week in Takaka, I was due back in Nelson to meet Anita, the Dutch girl, at a hostel and then to set off on our road trip around the South Island. I decided to hitch-hike from Takaka back to Nelson and I was lucky because within 5 min I was picked up by a lady. We chatted during the ride and I told her about my mishap of taking the keys, and in the end she was so kind as to drop me off at Pam's house for me to return the key. After I had done that, I dragged all my bags and belongings to the nearest bus stop to go to the hostel when another car pulled over (without me signalling it!) and the lady inside asked where I was going and whether I wanted a ride. It turned out that she needed to charge the car battery by keeping on driving, and so she drove me all the way to the hostel. 

I admit that I had extremely high expectations when I came to travel NZ. It is not without reason that I decided to stay there for 7 weeks thus making it the longest stay of all in a country. There's no denying that NZ is blessed with a pretty scenery, however, to me it did not appear as stunning and breath-taking as it is often claimed to be. I probably assumed the country to be more exotic and unique, but in fact, it is almost like Europe on a small scale, all the diverse features squeezed into one country. Pretty, indeed, in its various facettes, but by no means exceptional. Some parts reminded me of Norway, others of Switzerland or England (what a surprise!) and the rugged coast of West Ireland. 

Maybe this is the curse of traveling too much. At some point you've seen it all, and it becomes harder and harder to appreciate places for what they are without secretly comparing them to other stunning features and impressions.