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Today, I found myself singing--a sign that I felt great and had recovered from yesterday's emotional roller coaster ride. But the song that kept coming to my mind and out of my mouth came from nowhere. Madonna's "Beautiful Stranger" just kept replaying over and over, and I could not help but share it with the world. However, the morning did not show such a premise.
I awoke to a fully lit room not knowing the time thanks to my dead cellphone. The idea of adventuring into a new city did not certainly wrangle me from the sheets, and I could have just laid there all day. Even when I managed to sit up and partly face the world, I did for a good while, just taking everything that happened in and feeling numb. I could not believe so much attempted to and actually changed in such a short time. What on earth do I do?
My grimy skin reminded me to take a shower, and I made my way towards it without any excitement or consciousness of the act, just the knowledge that I needed one. There, I zoned out ,as I usually do, between fighting with the water that seemed to change temperatures every 10 seconds. My mood did not seem to lift and my mind just kept replaying everything, and I seemed to blame Christchurch for it all (stupid, I know).
I dedicated my day to planing my leave of this painful city and would do so utilizing the free wireless provided by the public library. However, I wanted to use up my remaining paid minutes and check out some things online before I headed out. Part of this included telling more people about my new location and catching up with my mom. Robby happened to be online, and we talked.
I told him how I felt quite empty because of everything, and he just reassured me that we were fine and that he just needed to spill all those emotions out last night. Eventually, we switched to a more casual conversation that made me feel better. The ticking wireless reminded me of its impending depletion, so, I had to say my goodbyes to everyone and made my way for some lunch.
Nothing really peaked my interest until I came across a Subway that still carried the Tandoori Chicken. "Huzzah', I thought, 'finally I can have it.' And I did. The awaited sandwich did not disappoint but it did not impress me too much either. I enjoyed the subtle differences between my culture and NZ's that even up in a US chain more: they call the toppings salads, do not carry Monterey cheddar bread, have a much different cheese and soda selection and do not offer chips as a combo item. These quirks intrigue me so.
After dining on culture, I walked my way past the park and found myself singing the Austin Power's theme song. I have always treasured singing and do it to entertain myself a lot, but the choice of song and the fact I did it was unexpected. The song's catchy rhythm ensnares my mind, but not much else about it impresses me. I think Madonna has made much better music.
More importantly, I was singing after such depressing day and morning. I could not believe it but relished that I could enjoy myself even walking down some strange street in a new city after a hard day.
My tunes carried me through Christchurch, and I noted series after series of restaurants and cafes. The place buzzed with life each way I turned to find the library. Fortunately, I only lost my way once and another Kiwi pointed me in the right direction of free wireless.
Once at the library, I sat down in a window seat and went to work on planning my trip beyond Christchurch. While I stupidly blamed Christchurch for things, I did want to plan my travels early so I did not have to run around crazily the day beforehand like I did in Dunedin.
Every portion of my trip seemed to work out well until I reached Wellington. I will take a bus July 5 to reach Picton at 12:20 pm. Then, I will take a ferry at 6 pm to the North Island, more specifically Wellington. My late arrival impeded anymore traveling, so, I sought a single night's lodging in hostels and could find none. Every site I used showed that only accommodations in distant suburbs had openings that day, which I did not want to travel to at night and for only one at that. So, I considered the idea of staying in an actual hotel for once when a great coincidence occurred.
I saw a woman of Maori descent walking towards the library and just shrugged it off at first. Then, on second look, I realized the incoming person was Bev, my hostelmate in Dunedin. She left Penny's Sunday to come here for a doctor's appointment and would not return until the day after I left. I figured she would leave so early in the morning we would not have a chance to meet up.
However, there she was, walking in the library to get on a computer before her return bus trip to Dundein. I chased her down in the library and hugged her tightly. She followed me back to my computer and joined me so we could catch up.
We talked about our travels for a bit before the conversation turned towards my plight of finding a place to stay in Wellington. When I told her about the hostels without vacancy and hotels costing at least a hundred dollars, she told me we could not have that and fetched phone books. We utilized them in conjunction with the internet to search hostels. None of them were within a mile's walk, so that was a bummer, and many wanted too much money for for the few amenities provided (one did not provide lining and wanted 27 dollars).
After about five hostels, we found a promising one that even had free shuttles. Bev let me use her phone to ring them up, and, surprisingly, they had vacancy, even if it meant I had to walk to it. Their free transport driver leaves at 8:30, making me miss him just by thirty minutes. However, I can manage the just-over-a-mile walk if it means I have somewhere to sleep.
Relieved at the find, Bev and I directed the conversation towards Christchurch and what I should not miss while visiting. She named off things like the punting boats, the art center, an aquarium and places I could get souvenirs. We even visited one of them after we decided to leave the library.
Just across the road stood a jewelry shop that sold decently priced necklaces carved out of different bones and shells. I knew how expensive this carving art could be and was happy to see some really cheap, yet nice versions. I mentally noted the location and idea, even if I do not purchase anything. While I wish I could buy everyone something from this amazing trip, I know my limited funds will not allow it. That is why I try to send so many postcards to people, hoping they will give a similar slice of New Zealand life.
After gawking at the beautiful jewelry, we picked up Bev's bags and made our way to her bus stop. We arrived quite early and enjoyed conversing about everything under the sun as I photographed her. She has so many stories, and I just love hearing her recount them, especially when they pertain to her family and life in New Zealand.
We realized we had more time than expected during our story exchanges, so, we moved to a bar across the road to have drinks and so Bev could use the restroom. Once relieved, she bought us both ginger ales, which I thanked her for, but I could not leave with mine before getting carded for being in a bar area (since when do I look under 18?). I instinctively gave her my driver's license and watched her search for my date of birth on it.
After she found proof of my age, she handed back my ID and said that many will not accept international driver's licenses as ID, only NZ licenses and passports. She did not need further proof from me but cautioned about other places.
I asked Bev if I looked under 18 and she said no but they had to card everyone, except they did not do so to her. I told her that she of course looked under age, which caused her to laugh and thank me. We took our ginger ales and headed to the smoking portion of the bar.
We talked more about our travel plans and current things we deal with before crossing the street to wait on her bus. It ran late, so, we looked around guessing which bus it would be, getting so many wrong. Once the true bus finally arrived, I hugged her goodbye and walked off to finish my evening with some dinner.
Trying not to spend too much money, I picked up food for tonight and the rest of my Christchurch stay at the grocery store. I did not bother with anything cold after seeing those overstuffed refrigerators and settled on things that I could carry a good distance. Thank goodness I did because the trip to the hostel seemed to take quite a while.
Once back in prison, I immediately made my food and sat down to edit photos, blog and contact people. I had to get in talk with Tash, a student I met at the conference, to see when I should come to Hamilton so she can participate in my project. Also, I talked to Gavin about our upcoming meeting, and he had good news about his flat. A few of his mates are vacations, leaving possible space for me to crash during my stop to Auckland. With that and Tash's offer to let me have her couch in Hamilton, I might save some money, woo hoo!
Both are still up in the air, but I have hope. Nothing like saving money to top a day of successful planning and an unexpected reunion.
Not to mention, Christchurch has grown on me.
