-Chapter 28- The homeless backpackers..

As I mentioned before, we quickly realized that backpackers are mostly freeloaders who rely on the state. It is definitely an experience to live as cheaply as possible. But what I didn't expect is that this lifestyle can also be very exhausting and, above all, time-consuming. Being somewhere else every day also means planning for the next day. A hitchhiker said to us "You don't have to have a plan." when she asked us where we would stay the next night. That's probably freedom. I think if Work and Travel doesn't suit us in one aspect, it's because Celina and I can't relax without knowing where we'll sleep the next day. Added to this was the pressure we put on ourselves because of the money. We always wanted to earn what we spent, but since we included the car in our expenses, a large part of our earned money went there. So everything we bought seemed like too much, even though we were really living frugally.

After the great Christmas days, the homeless days began. From now on, I will always use the hashtag #homeless when a situation arises where we feel particularly poor. So here we go:
There are no normal campsites in Wellington, so we had to spend the days at the only free campsite, which is actually a large parking lot in the middle of the city. We hiked to the viewpoint of Mount Victoria (where we got lost in the forest)

and spent a night on a private access road that wasn't worth the money. In the confirmation email, the owner of this driveway gave us tips for free showers in Wellington.

We had the choice between a shower in a hidden toilet at the hardware store or the shower at the airport. We really did that. One morning we drove towards the airport, parked in the free parking spaces a bit further away, and packed a small backpack with a mini towel and everything we needed. It felt a bit like we were doing something forbidden when we disappeared between the travelers into the shower in the toilets. It took us a lot of effort, but in the end, we left the airport with wet hair, truly feeling like backpackers. #homeless

We were by no means the only ones who wanted to spend the Christmas days in Wellington. Two days before New Year's Eve, we visited the Te Papa Museum,

and arrived at our parking spot for the night in the afternoon. Although there are over 50 spaces there, we had to line up in a row with other waiters. And it was even free, because in the evening we were among the 10 cars that were kicked out by the park ranger. She recommended various rows of parking spaces on Wellington's main streets where you could legally and for free stay overnight. #homeless.

The thing is, we had no other choice. So we parked on a wide street nearby and tried to get as much sleep as possible. The next morning, we had to leave before 8, that was the rule. The funny thing was that when I fell asleep, I thought Celina was still on her phone. But it was the bright light of the street lamp shining on her face. #homeless

So the alarm clock rang at 5 to 8. I drove us in our pajamas to the parking lot where there was already a long line of waiting cars. We got in line in the second row and had to wait for four hours. Every time new campers arrived at the parking lot and saw the queue, they either turned around or asked us how long we had been waiting to estimate if it was worth it for them. Is it a bit desperate to wait from 8 am to 12.30 pm for a spot on a free parking lot? ... #homeless

Finally, when someone left, we parked between a group of Germans who were really enjoying their life in Wellington and entertained the whole evening with loud music. When we washed our plates at the toilet, a guy who had been standing in line in front of us the whole time and sometimes chatted with us said, "You got a great spot, among all the teenagers." We found that pretty funny because he didn't count us as 18-year-olds, even though we clearly don't look like adults.

For New Year's Eve, we booked a cheap hostel. That's why we wanted to leave in the morning. The Germans sat in groups around our car, listening to loud German rap and smoking joints. When we got ready to start the car and wanted to start the engine, we heard the familiar sound of a dead battery. Unfortunately, the Germans heard it too. Ashamed, we had to ask for a jump start. Actually, they were the least helpful so far, even though there were about 10 potential helpers. In the end, it was nice that they did it anyway. After a few annoyed looks and discussions, it became clear that the cars on both sides couldn't help us because one battery was too weak and the guy from the other car was not around with the car key. "Then we'll push it out," said one guy. 5 minutes later, 5 guys were pushing our car out of the parking space. Then we went back to the parking garage.

-> To be continued