lake manapouri. kayaking with my danish friends

Life Is Hard

I got admitted into Yale and UofM and turned down at UC Davis. Still waiting for Oregon, but won't tell me for another month, unfortunately.
Recently I've been spending a lot of time calling US Forest Service Offices and trying to convince them to hire me for this summer.
Admissions excitement and worries about summer jobs have been keeping me up at night lately, and I'm returning to the old ways, even in New Zealand, eating chocolate and trying to read hard literature at 3 am in the morning.
But to nicer topics. I have had my first WWOOF in the South Island.
Far away from any civilization, off the grid, in a one-room-shack lives a family of four: Pav, Erin and two tiny toddlers Miro and Bobo (Bobo isn't his real name, but the parents haven't decided on what they are going to call him yet. They say it takes time to see a child's personality and hence to give it an appropriate name).
Both Erin and Pav were city children and don't know much about farming or gardening, their hands are full with yong kids (two years and six weeks) and about a 100 feril sheep living on their property. Their garden looked more like an experiment: scraggly tomato plants lost in weeds and bunches of sheep turds spread on the surface for fertilization. Even sheep aren't really farmed, both Erin and Pav are animal rights activists and vegetarians, so they keep the sheep for company and as live lawn-mowers. And they've got a lot of land to mow - about 100 acres for partially forested land in the foothills of the Southern Alps.
My first reaction to the farm was a mixture of awe and puzzlement. The property is in a very scenic location and the absence of electricity or any kind of worldly comfort only intensified my feeling of closeness to nature. However, there was also a total lack of a garden or any other features of an "organic farm". Regardless, my experience on the farm was profound. I've realized how much I'm used to comfort and unwilling to let go of personal space and tasty food. On the other hand, I was touched by Erin's and Pav's dedication to their ideas. Skilled or not, they were living the simple life I profess to ebrace. They are poor by choice and they are OK with that. I guess, as we say in Russia, poverty's not a sin.

a couple of things.
number one:
while doing a strenuous alpine hike met an extremely good looking czech girl hiking in her underwear and wearing long earrings. she passed me on an uphill and had a fire going in the hut when i caught up to her. after speaking with her, turned out she teaches math analysis at a uni, has hiked every imaginable trail in the north island and maintains perfectly shaped long nails even in the backcountry. it made me question my femininity.

number two:
hiking alone in the back-country is a surprisingly pleasant experience. peaceful and dignified. or maybe i'm becoming a snob.

number three:
take a look at Nelson Lakes National Park. that's Traverse Saddle

Still alive and well. Here's a picture of me and mt ngarahoe in the back.

Here I Go Again On My Own

The best part about travelling alone is meeting all the other travellers and for the most part these encounters have been great.
In Tongariro National Park I befriended one of the Hut Wardens (smth like a forest or park ranger in the States) as I was waiting out a long and nasty rain in his hut. As I finished my hike I went down to the Hut Warden quarters and partied with European forest rangers for a weekend. Hut warden life is a bit like NCC: international, complete with gossip, staggered shifts and lots of utilisation.
After Tongariro, I hitchhiked to New Plymouth ( I got two long rides: one with an elderly couple who were bored and went out of their way just to listen to my stories and drop me off closer to my final destination. And second from a 7 months pregnant mom), hoping to climb mt. Taranaki. When I got there, the park information lady tried talking me out of it, saying that the hike "was more for the locals and not tourists". Apparently foreigners are too soft to handle Taranaki and usually do a two day flat hike. Besides it's way hard to get to the trailhead without a car ( a shuttle is prohibitively expensive). I started thinking of giving up when I saw a guy with an ice axe (and car keys) - we hiked the mountain together.
Turned out he is a Swiss medical student. The winter and studies were too much for him ("I have this bad feeling inside"), so he took a self-appointed three week leave to New Zealand to get his spirits up.

Finally, I've befriended a Danish girl who's been sailing around New Zealand and now wants to hike it. We're heading to Wellington together tomorrow.
So much for being alone all the time.

Other Shores

Alright, that's a swimming hole near my first WWOOF. My favorite place to be so far.

Хочу писать по-русски и буду. Орфография пострадает.
Значит так. По окончанию первого добровольного опыта на ферме, я поняла, что мне не хватает доброй воли. В последний день хозяйка надавала мне много заданий, в том числе почистить унитаз, а сама уехала в город. Я, сделав все кроме чистки унитаза, ушла купаться на речку, подумав, что чистка унитазов не имеет отношения к органическому садоводству и следовательно, унитазы чистить я не обязана. Хозяйка вернулась, заметила унитазы, ничего не сказала, но явно обиделась. И вообще, день у нее был тяжелый.
Потом я думала - думала и надумала, что раз взялась быть добровольцем, то нечего нос воротить. Люди дают мне крышу над головой и вкусные овощи. Так что даже если унитазы чистить, то с улыбкой не лице и качественно. Буду стараться.
После фермы, поехала на север в коротенький, как оказалось, поход. Ехала автостопом, от чего сначала ужасно нервничала, но вскоре успокоилась. Водители доброжелательно меня приветствовали и рассказывали про своих детей, жен,мужей, овец, лошадей и прочую родню. Кого что волновало.
Надо сказать, что в походы я много ходила, но ни разу не ходила одна. Так что етот поход был для меня новинкой , как Карлосоново приведение из Вазастана, страшное но симпатичное. По моим рассчетам, поберажная тропа, по которой я собиралась идти должна была быть 53 километра в длину. Однако, оказалась всего 23. Так что, наверное на свое счастье, в одиночестве мне пришлось провести лишь одну ночь.
Я специально выбрала океанское побережье для первого похода, мол, потеряться будет невозможно: иди себе по пляжу, не сворачивай. Оказывается все не так просто. Уже после часа хотьбы я уперлась в скалу с вялой тропинкой идущей вертикально вверх и исчезающей за ближайшим кустом. И ежу понятно, что тропу протоптали любители, и что идти по ней не надо, но меня осторожность не остановила. Вместо того чтобы пройти вдлоль скалы, как я потом догадалась, мне надо было сделать. Я поперла вверх по колючим кустам и камням. Рассчитывая на песчанный берег, а не колючки, я не взяла с собой походные ботинки, а пошла в сандалях. Пока я лезла вверх по кустам, а потом спускалась вниз вдоль заросшего ручья, я решила, мне еще многому надо учиться: не паниковать, брать с собой ботинки и слушаться мудрых учителей. Надежда Аароновна когда то сказала, "дети, пропустите первую мысль и вторую, тоже наверное, пропустите. А вот третью выскажите". Ну или что то в этом роде. Она была права.
В конце концов я спустилась вниз на другой конец скал и с ободранными коленками продолжила путешествие. Вечером я нашла кучу мидий и сварила их на ужин, не отмыв их от песка, и , сплевывая песок, снова подумала, что многому надо учиться.
Первая, и пока единственная, одиночная ночь прошла благополучно. Где то в четыре утра меня разбудило ворчание дерущихся опосумов. Мелкие млекопитющие - вреда ни кому не сделают, но шумят много. Я даже сначала испугалась, стала хлопать в ладоши и кричать, чтоб отогнать зверюшек. Они наверное унюхали мою еду и искали лакомства, пока не наткнулись друг на друга и не подрались.
Вобшем все закончилось благополучно.
Теперь я на второй ферме, в километре от Тихоокеанского побережья, на которое я хожу каждый вечер и счастливо наслаждаюсь. Буду здесь до девятого или десятого февраля, потом снова в поход. На етот раз в горы. Пытаюсь найти себе попутчицy в походы.
Такие дела.

In New Zealand for the last five days; spent a day in Auckland, and took a bus to my first WWOOF place. The sheer excitement of being in New Zealand made everything seem extra interesting at first. I may have gone a bit over getting excited about lichen on a plum tree or chicken-looking black birds on country roads. Overall though my stay has been supreme. Conny, my host-lady took me swimming in the Pacific Ocean right after I got off the bus; the work on the farm is easy, the food is good, Connie takes me mountain biking and does yoga, there's a picturesque swimming hole a short bike ride away.  

One of my more exotic experiences has been a hay staking evening/party. The local farming community is quite tight and friendly and one of the evenings this past week I, along with about twelve other people from different farms, went to help out with hay staking on a farm nearby. The whole experience is very fun and unsafe. Dogs, young people, old people, utes (NZlanders call trucks "utes") mingle as heavy bailes of hay are being staked precariously high on utes to be transported to the barn and re-staked there. The work is hard and hay is prickly, but afterwards the beer flows freely and there's no limit to cheer and merry-making. I'm sure I'm romanticising; but it's quite easy to do so seeing a bunch of not-so-young people gather in a large work-party and make merry. 

I'm staying on this farm for another couple of days and then heading up north to Cape Reinga to take a four day hike. 

So long.

From pickled fat and stinky herring...

Dearest all,

I am about to start a new adventure, tomorrow evening I am flying out to New Zealand to spend three months there with a lose plan of hiking trips and WWOOF stays. It is my first big solo travel - the fact that both, scares and excites me. A year ago a mere thought of a three months solo travel was terrifying only, so maybe I have grown  since then. 

Blogging is also a first-time experience for me, guess I'm crossing into a lot of new territories here :). It's an attempt to maintain or restore some friendships, be more mindful about travel and exercise my editing skills. Please read it,  leave comments, travel suggestions, criticism and encouragement.

I am hopeful and cautiously happy ...