Publicēts: 20.11.2016
In Auckland, there was still something to do, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to do anything. After I had decided to go to Blenheim, the wine barrel of the South Island, to work there. To keep myself busy, I took a walk through a park at the end of Saint Mary's Road, which is separated from the highway only by a plexiglass pane. Nevertheless, the path is surprisingly relaxing and I felt really carefree again. This could of course also be due to the large number of dogs I encountered in the park, which had clearly internalized the New Zealand personality (friendly and open). The weather was miserable, but that didn't bother me. From the end of the park, I just had to follow a street and I was back on Jervois Road, from where I found the hostel without any problems. The rest of the day I spent getting a YHA membership, with which I got a free membership at the outdoor store Kathmandu and thus my tent much cheaper. In addition, there is also a discount at all YHA hostels in New Zealand. My plans were definitely set until then, however, an earthquake shook the South Island violently and thus also my plans. I didn't notice the earthquake itself and in the morning I wondered why so many people were inquiring about my well-being via WhatsApp ('Oh God, are you still alive?' Me, half asleep: 'What's going on?', 'There was an EARTHQUAKE in New Zealand.' 'Huh, really?') I can only hope that something like this never happens to me, I would probably only wake up when the house above me collapses. And with my level of awareness (is that even a word?) I would probably only realize a tropical storm when it's directly above me. Well, whatever, I definitely had to change my plans. Of course, I still took advantage of the Kathmandu membership and the next day I got my mini tent and a sleeping mat. Since the computer at the store wasn't working properly, I even got more discount than usual and got a one-person hiking tent and an inflatable sleeping mat for less than $250 (the actual original price of the tent). Then I quickly got a rope to attach everything to my backpack. For the rest of the day, I hung out in my room and consulted with the young German girl, who was also sharing the room with me since the first night (the rest didn't stay very long), about what I should do now, considering that it was already Monday and I had to leave on Thursday. I decided on Kerikeri in the north, where I wanted to live in a working hostel and work on one of the plantations around. The next day, Tuesday, I washed my clothes again and still wondered if I really wanted to go to Kerikeri and looked for a bus connection. Meanwhile, my freshly washed laundry hung outside, dried, got wet again, dried again, and then got wet again, because the weather was still miserable. The next day looked better and after everything was dry, I had a 30-hour bus pass and a seat on a bus to Kerikeri, I packed everything, only to realize that I had to fill my daypack with the food that no longer fit in my main backpack. So I would be walking around the city with two backpacks, one of which was more than heavy enough. I spent the rest of the day hanging out with my roommate, who had similar problems as me (No idea what's coming next; No desire to do anything in Auckland; etc.).
So the next morning, with double baggage, I walked to the bus stop after saying goodbye to the other hostel residents (except the cat, she didn't show up), got on a crowded bus, and saw more of New Zealand for the first time. And it was so damn green, not as green as in Germany, but much more intense, and after the bus had completely crossed Auckland, we crossed the border of the wilderness (if you don't understand the reference, please listen to the soundtrack of the first Hobbit movie; and yes, I am a nerd). Steep, densely wooded or completely green hills and occasional views of the sea finally made me feel completely in New Zealand, and homesickness hit me hard. Completely alone, without anyone else I had met so far, I suddenly felt very lonely, which, combined with the uncertainty of finding accommodation, as I couldn't book at the hostels, brought my mood down. However, the landscape distracted me long enough and finally I stood in front of the Kericentral Hostel in Kerikeri. However, I was not necessarily greeted kindly by the manager, who was German again (we hadn't had that before), this seemed to be more concerned about his flags, which had been taken down as a joke, than about a potentially stranded backpacker. However, he took pity on me and at least told me where a campground with rooms was located. So I trudged straight through Kerikeri and finally slept in a completely overpriced ($35) room with another German backpacker (sigh), who gave me the tip to try hitchhiking. Meanwhile, I tried to find something for the next night at another hostel, but everything was full. I had no choice but to fall asleep frustrated. The next day I got a camping spot and set up my tent. This tent was clearly not made for humans, because with my backpack inside, I had no choice but to curl up, there was no room for anything else. But it was easy to set up. After that, I checked out all the hostels, but they all said no except for the Hone Heke Lodge. I was greeted warmly there and was advised to call the next morning to see if anyone had checked out. Then I trudged with my backpack, full of pre-purchased groceries, to the Stone Store House, the oldest stone house in New Zealand, located on the Kerikeri Basin, and followed a hiking trail recommended in the Lonely Planet guide, which leads from the Stone Store House to the Wharepuke Falls, the Fairy Pools, and finally to the Rainbow Falls. This hiking trail is also part of the Te Araroa, a 3000km long trail that goes the length of New Zealand (phew, not bad, I probably won't be able to do it quickly). The trail was really beautiful, leading through dense forest, where I sometimes felt like in Fangorn Forest (if you don't know what that means, you should read and watch the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy). The river was a constant companion and finally I reached the Rainbow Falls, which drop 27m from a moss-covered cave. After enjoying the view, I checked the way back and to my horror realized that I had to go back half the way to cross the river and get back to my campsite. Finally, I set up camp again, enjoyed the view of the Kerikeri River once again, which flowed right past the campsite, and curled up in my tent. After a almost sleepful night (but waking up was worth it, the starry sky was beautiful), I packed everything in the morning and called the lodge, only to be told that there was no availability and probably none tomorrow either. I got another night at the campground, unpacked everything again, and spent the morning crying in my tent out of homesickness and frustration (yes, there are better ways to pass the time). Finally, the next day I decided to hitchhike to Paihia (which I had never done before). I got some clothespins (and two books, as completely unnecessary weight, but as a good comfort), washed everything that needed to be washed, charged my power banks in case I got stranded somewhere, and looked for a place to sleep in Paihia. Once again, the campground was the result. More confident than before, I enjoyed my dinner (an apple) on a concrete bridge that leads directly under my tent over the river, and observed the different birds that kept me awake every night and woke me up in the morning. Besides a few ducks, there were also some pretty unusual, native birds. The next morning, after a surprisingly good night's sleep in my hobbit hole, as I now call my tent, I dismantled it (which was really easy; luckily, the tent is foolproof, exactly tailored to me), and walked out of Kerikeri. After some initial doubts about my sanity (result: No, I don't have any, but it feels damn good), I tried hitchhiking and actually a friendly old lady took pity on me after less than ten minutes and gave me a ride to the roundabout at the very end of Kerikeri (the towns here extend very far). Barely getting out of the car, putting my backpack back down and sticking out my thumb, a Maori woman with her mother stopped and gave me a ride to the next main intersection. After a friendly conversation, we were already there, I got out of the car and was about to get back into position when I saw a young woman who was also hitchhiking. The young German girl (am I really in New Zealand?) had to go in the other direction, but while we were chatting, an adult American woman (by that I mean not one of the usual 18-22 year old hooligans who, including me, hang around here, but someone who is really an adult) who also wanted to go to Paihia, so the two of us waited together (the other German girl had already gotten a ride). She told me that she was currently hiking the Te Araroa, this 3000km hiking trail, but had twisted her knee and therefore had to hitchhike for a day due to illness, while the rest of her group continued hiking. We didn't have to wait long, a few minutes later a three-person family stopped and gave us a ride. With five of us, all adults (physically, I mean), it was quite cozy in the car and the mother's driving style was also a bit scary, but you can't be demanding when you're hitchhiking, especially not when everyone is so nice. After a few minutes, we arrived in Paihia and after taking a farewell photo with the family's daughter (around my age) (yay, two international Facebook profiles that I'm on without really knowing the person), I went with the American woman to the YHA hostel in Paihia, maybe I'll get a spot. The way wasn't actually long, but it was midday, the sky was cloudless and it was tropical hot, so I was gasping for breath before I arrived. But all that was forgotten when I got a spot in an 8-person room (a bed, a real bed without ants). I had to wait a little until the room was ready, but what the hell, there was free Wi-Fi. Then I quickly changed clothes (my pants had fallen apart during hitchhiking, so you can't deny its sense of timing and drama), slapped on some sunscreen, and went out to explore the place and buy things. The tropical impression deepened (okay, maybe not Germany after all, but the Caribbean where I am right now), reinforced by the weather, the turquoise sea, the islands in the bay, and the yachts. Now I will just let the day fade away, my homesickness is not gone, but actually it belongs to traveling, my slump is over and I finally feel like I have arrived.