New Zealand memories, Part 1: Fellow travellers I met

One of the things that has left a lasting impression on me since my trip to New Zealand was the variety of people - both travellers and locals - that I met along the way. There were the people I chatted with for a few minutes while standing in line, the ones I chatted with for hours, the ones that I kept running into at various points in my trip, and the really special ones who invited me into their home.


This was not my first solo international trip, nor was it my first solo cycling trip. I think that the fact that I had no set itinerary and was in an English-speaking country made me particularly prone to striking up conversation with every random person I met.

This isn't to say that I fell in love with all of humanity during my journey. There were still occasions when I retreated from opportunities to chat with others:

• When confronted with tour busses and the people they spewed forth (either I'm allergic to the busses themselves or intimidated by groups)
• When very tired and/or hungry

I was struck not only by the variety of people I met along the way, but the also the variety of ways that people travelled through the country.

People I met, episode 1: Retired Brit bike tourist

The first bike tourist that I had a chance to chat with was a man I saw taking a break at a rest stop along the Buller River between Murchison and St. Arnaud. I was a little excited to have an excuse to stop and snack, so I pulled over and ran through the obvious questions (Where are you from, how long are you travelling for, etc.). I was also curious about his touring setup: how much he was carrying (no camping gear), where he was headed, how hilly the road was to the west (where he had come from), etc.

The most interesting thing, though, was that this man was a very experienced bike tourist. When I asked if he had toured before, he rattled off a list of countries that he had bike-toured through: Spain, Norway, the United States, Vietnam, and many more. Every year he heads overseas for a month or two to explore a new country. In fact, I think the sandflies made me flee on my bike before he could finish telling me that list of countries he had visited...

Key takeaway #1: Being a retired person (OAP, or old-age pensioner) in Britain is a good gig. The only downside, of course, being that you have to live part of the year in the U.K. (OK, OK, it's really not that bad a place. Really.)

People I met, episode 2: Retired RV'er couple in Inangahua Junction

Susan: "Where are you guys from?"

Older woman: "We're from (some random town in) the North Island and we're travelling around in a motor home down here for a couple of weeks."

Susan: "Fantastic! Do you come down to the South Island often?"

Older woman: "No; this is our first time on the South Island."

This revelation completely blew me away. The South Island is separated by a few-hour ferry ride from the North Island, and even if you live at the very northern tip of the north island, the South Island is no more than a day's drive or short flight away...

Key takeaway #2: I am very lucky to have free time and money to allow me to travel not just to my neighboring island(s), but halfway around the world...

Episode 3: Australian motorcyclists

Susan: "Nice motorcycles! How do you like biking around New Zealand?"

Friendly motorcyclists: "It's great. We're a little jealous of bicyclists, though; you really have to keep your eyes on the road when you're cruising along at 80+ kilometers per hour."

Susan: "And we're jealous of the fact that you don't have to pedal. Say, how much did it cost to bring your bikes over from Australia?"

Motorcyclists: "About $1600 each, which is much cheaper than it would have been to rent bikes like these here. How much did it cost to bring your bike over?"

Susan (smiling): "It was free!"

Takeaway #3: The price of riding your own two wheels in New Zealand can vary substantially depending on whether you bring a motor with you or not.

People I met, episode 4: Cyclists in Greymouth

I arrived in Greymouth after about 5 days of cycling in New Zealand, and up to that point had only chatted with one other bike tourist (see episode 1). So imagine my surprise when the proprietor of the hostel there said that there were five other bike tourists staying at the hostel that night.

Indeed, there were 5, and three were American, which is surprising since bike touring isn't as popular with Americans as with people from other countries.

There was Andy the software guy from Portland, Oregon, who was biking through New Zealand for 6 months.

And there was Kate and Toby the "posties" (mail-deliverers who, in New Zealand, do their work by bike) from Christchurch, biking through their home country for 3 months.

And the young couple from North Carolina who were planning on staying in New Zealand for a year and looking for work.

The hours flew by that evening as we chatted about our travels, especially enjoying the topics that only bike tourists or Americans-in-New-Zealand can relate to: the oddities of the roads in New Zealand, the upside-downness of light switches there, where to work to support one's trip financially ("WWOOF'ing" is popular, as is working in hostels). It was one of those well-balanced groups where conversation flowed: the rough-edged, brash North Carolinian guy, sweet Kate, the expressions of shock from the North Carolinian woman, Toby's attention to details and facts.

But let's back up a second. These people were travelling for months. For the first time I started to wonder why I had booked flights so that I would be in this amazing country for just a few weeks.

Key takeaway #3: If you feel like taking a vacation longer than 3 weeks is overly indulgent... it's not.

People I met, episode 5: Dutch couple in the grey corolla

I struck up a conversation with the couple in the tent closest to me at the holiday park in Fox Glacier. They said they were a bit jealous of my cycling; they were avid cyclists at home but had opted to drive around New Zealand in a car that they bought and would sell at the end of their trip. It turned out that they had seen me several times on the road, including my very first day in New Zealand 10 days earlier on the ferry. I ran into them again a few days later outside of Wanaka.

Key takeaway #5: The South Island of New Zealand is a small, small world.

Quote of the trip

The pleasant older couple I sat next to in the helicopter trip up over the Fox Glacier were from Britain and pleasant enough to chat with. I suppose it's a good thing that I didn't respond with a more sarcastic or witty remark to her question - she was really too sweet to deserve anything other than an honest response to her question: Have you heard of Scotland?

Here's the thing: The fact that this woman asked this question must mean that she has met someone, likely an American, who hasn't heard of Scotland. (Excuse me while I shed a tear).

People I met, episode 6: Redundant banker from NYC

I don't think I ever got her name, but we (my hiking buddies for the day, Nigel and Jonas) ran into her on the shuttle from Mt. Aspiring National Park back to Wanaka. We ran into her again that night in the restaurant where we met up for beers. Fulfilling the stereotype of a Manhattanite perfectly, she was donning high heels and very chatty. It turned out that she had been "made redundant", and, not unlike myself, had decided to take advantage of the opportunity to travel. Her approach to her months of travel, however, was pretty much the opposite of mine. She was spending about 2 weeks in each country that she was visiting, going on guided tours in each country.

"I just don't have time to plan these things myself," she lamented.

This concept has been keeping me laughing for weeks now. Seriously? When you're unemployed, it turns out that you have plenty of time to plan trips. Unless I'm missing something. Or just unfairly biased against tour busses.

People I met, episode 7: Whit, The long-term traveller

"Looks kind of windy out there today," was the unassuming start to our conversation. Little did I know that it would turn out that this quiet, older man with the looks of Hemmingway and attitude of Buddha had been travelling the world for SIX YEARS.

I didn't ask too many questions, but he did relate that he had sold two businesses, his house, car, and possessions from his life in Houston for a life on the road.

And he didn't want to go back.

Tired of a life in overly-material Houston and the United States, he said he was "trying to figure out how to travel for the rest of his life."

Assuming that he meant that he was trying to figure out how to finance such a life, I asked him if he had any ideas on how he was going to make this happen. But apparently he was talking more about the emotional and mental side of things.

"What do you like most about travel?" I asked him.

"The ability to reinvent myself at each place I stay."

I had to leave to catch a ride to Wanaka and our conversation was cut short long before I wanted to finish talking to him. Was he really tired of the United States or just Houston? What did he really mean about re-inventing himself? Did he feel like he was accomplishing anything with his life of travel? Did he feel like he was missing out on opportunities that a permanent location would offer? And of course: what was the meaning of life?

Lesson learned: If I ever run into a man named Whit from Houston again, I will cancel my plans, sit, ask questions, and listen.

Planning proceeds apace

My German roommate Ralph, who has travelled extensively and lived in a number of countries, suggested what I think is a great idea: fly down to Granada from Freiburg and start my bike trip there. He's really been insisting that I use his and Susanne's apartment as a home base in Europe, which is hard to refuse! The advantages are many:

1. Granada is beautiful, as Ralph will attest to (he lived there for about a year). The biking there is supposed to be superb (it's near the Sierra Nevada National Park). And the architecture is gorgeous as well.
2. Granada is relatively warm, compared to northern Europe in May
3. Granada has a large number of (inexpensive) Spanish schools. Incidentally, I've been wanting to take a Spanish class for years. What better way to start travelling in Spain than after learning a bit of the language?
4. It's pretty cheap (< $200) to fly to Granada from Basel, Switzerland. (Cheaper than a train).

So here's a possible bike route that I might pursue after spending a couple of weeks in Granada:

This route covers over 3200 km of cycling, which is a lot, to be sure, especially if I stop and look at anything along the way. But I feel like it's a good first stab at a realistic route: it allows me to ride in France and Italy, both of which I've been wanting to bike through for years; it goes through Venice, Salzburg, and Prague, all of which sound like interesting cities; it would allow me to visit seven countries that would be new to me (Spain, Andorra, France, Italy, Slovenia, Austria, and the Czech Republic). And of course, if I don't make it all the way to Prague by bike, that's fine, too! It's possible I'll fall in love with France and/or decide to take some French classes while I'm there.

The current plan is to bring mountaineering gear with me and stash it in Freiburg while I do this bike trip and return to Freiburg at the end of the trip to play in the Alps with friends Uta and Robert (assuming our schedules match up).

I'm starting to get excited!

Road trip summary: April 2 - April 11

Despite bringing my laptop with me, I didn't write a single blog post during that time... so here's a quick summary of our activities during our 1800-mile road trip from Seattle down through Oregon to Northern California and back.

So here's a quick run-down of where we went when, including links to photos where appropriate:

Day 0: Depart Seattle mid-afternoon, sleep in Eugene, OR
Day 1: Sleep in, run and lunch in Eugene, drive to Mt. Shasta
Day 2: Climb Mt. Shasta
Day 3: Drive to California Coast, lunch in Arcata, CA, 16-mile run in Redwoods National Park, camp at Gold Bluffs in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park.
Day 4: Stop in Crescent City, CA for cheese factory, Lunch in Cave Junction, OR, X-C ski along Crater Lake, motel in Crescent, OR
Day 5: Climb Mt. Thielsen, drive to Bend, OR
Day 6: Run in Smith Rock State Park, X-C ski near Mt. Bachelor
Day 7 & 8: Attempt to climb South Sister volcano. Turn around at ~9000'.
Day 9: Drive from Bend to Portland, where we visit the Saturday Market, Powell's Bookstore, and the zoo, and then continue to Seattle.

This trip was quite different from what I had gotten used to while travelling in NZ: since we were driving a car, I brought cross-country skis, snowshoes, plastic mountaineering boots, leather hiking boots, lots of books, a laptop, and plenty of clothes. Kelly's Honda Civic was quite full!

Next up: departing for Europe on May 4

Last week I bought a ticket to Frankfurt because I decided I wanted to do a bike trip through Europe, I know some German, and flying into Frankfurt was the cheapest I could find ($508, which is a great price from Seattle). I've travelled to Europe three times before but only seen a few countries (UK, Ireland, Switzerland, Germany) there so far, and it seems like a good idea to spend some more time there and explore at least a few countries.

In fact, it's tempting to try to visit a dozen or so countries in the time I've alotted (10 weeks), but in reality I expect I'll visit somewhere between 3 and 6, depending on a variety of factors, not the least of which is how slow I'll go. It seems to make more sense to visit fewer countries, especially because each one will present new linguistic challenges and cultural and commercial norms that will take some time to get used to.

I think that if I had visited Europe 3-5 years ago I would have made sure to bike up the classic climbs of the Tour de France and perhaps the Giro, and perhaps even travelled along the routes of some of the "spring classics" (such as Paris-Roubaix, La Fleche Wallone), long one-day races that start the professional racing season. However, the fact that I'll be carrying my own gear (as I'm not willing to pay thousands of dollars for a guided bike tour) and that my participation in bike racing has dropped to nil in the last couple of years will probably keep me along whatever routes make the most sense from a bike tourist's perspective: instead of seeking out cobblestone and "hors category" climbs, I'll probably just roll with whatever terrain I happen to cross.

I'll be honest: I don't know exactly what I'm doing. (I'm thinking about first heading through France to Spain to ride the Camino de Santiago) I don't know if the weather will be OK for biking (May appears to be an iffy time in, say, France). I don't yet know what I'll be bringing (I'm on the fence regarding camping gear). And I don't know more than 2 words of French, Italian, Polish, Flemish, Czech, or Dutch. I expect that I'll have some lonely days (in part because of the language barrier), have some very stressful times, get lost countless times, and have some nights of poor sleep.

On the other hand, I expect that I'll walk away with some great stories. And some pictures. And maybe that's what it's really all about. Or maybe it's the people I'll meet (I'm guessing that there will be at least a few) that will make the trip worthwhile. Or perhaps the insights into how each country works and lives will be most interesting. Regardless, when I'm not busy being nervous about the logistics of the trip, I'm excited! Unlike many of my classmates in college, I never took a term to study abroad; it's like I'm finally doing that!

If you have any recommended spots to visit (especially outside of cities - I'm currently thinking that I'll be trying to stay in the countryside as much as possible), please post a comment with your suggestion!

Quote of the day from Susan B. Anthony

From Susan B. Anthony in 1896:

"I think [the bicycle] has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world. It gives a woman a feeling of freedom and self-reliance."

Hooray for bicycles!

Thanks to the author of A People's History of Sports in the United States (David Zirin) on NPR for mentioning it.

Road Trip Unblogged

On Saturday night Kelly and I returned from a 9-day road trip from Seattle down to northern California and back, driving 1800 miles (at an average of 39 mpg!) and exploring many miles of trails when we weren't in the car.

It seems ironic that even though I brought a laptop on this trip, but not on my trip to New Zealand, I didn't write a single blog post on the road trip... but posted nearly every day in NZ.

The chief reason is quite simple, I think; when traveling solo, it's much easier to make time to write.  And sometimes when traveling solo there simply isn't anything else to do at all!  (I remember this being the case when camping in a small campground without another soul in sight.)  

It's somewhat unfortunate that in our society it's uncommon to write on a regular basis.  For example, if you were out with friends on a Friday night and one of them told you that head home to do some writing before he got too tired, you would think it odd.  Or you would think it odder still if he pulled out a journal and started writing in the bar/movie theater/living room where you were both sitting.

It's not that we don't value writing.  How many times have you heard someone say, "I wish I had written that down" or "I wish I had kept a journal"?  It seems that this is yet another case of our society's priorities being out of line with its habits, like the disconnect between our ideal and actual diets and exercise regimens.

But no excuses now for not writing... I'm home alone tonight!

Confession: I stole

Let me start by saying that I returned what I stole and that it was probably worth less than $0.25, but it was on my mind for the duration of my time down under.

One of my first personal rules of travel that I've developed over the last few years is Always Carry a Pen. Pens are useful for many things, such as writing down phone numbers, but especially for taking notes. My second rule of travel is to Always Carry a Notepad. In fact, I had my trusty "Rite in the Rain" notepad from REI in my pocket every day in New Zealand (most useful thing I own that costs less than $4) and I enjoyed making notes of interesting things I'd seen and various stuff I'd done along the way.

Unfortunately, on March 1st I somehow left my house without a pen, much to my dismay. I wanted to acquire one as soon as possible (i.e. at the airport), but, having done exactly that in the past, I knew that the first rules of airports is to Charge As Much As Possible For a Pen. I've probably spent about $5 on a pen on multiple occasions when I broke my first rule of travel and had to find one ASAP. In South Africa I ended up with a ridiculous wooden elephant pen on just such an occasion.

Here's the thing: lots of shops have pens lying around on their counters for people to sign credit card receipts with. You know, the cheap ballpoint pen made by Bic, sold in packs of 10 (or 20), and I reasoned that no one would miss that particular pen if it walked off, especially because it had a twin sitting next to it on a counter.

So it did indeed walk off with me, fly to Australia, New Zealand, Australia, and then back to Seattle. And I did indeed return it to just the spot I found it in Seatac airport at the Discovery Kids store, right next to the cute greeting cards.

Here's the other thing, though: the more I try to rationalize this, the more ridiculous it seems to steal something. But really, what are you going to do when what you really need is something that you can't buy (I didn't want to buy 10 of them and I really just needed a simple ballpoint pen) and is lying right there in front of you? You know that if you ask the woman behind the counter if you can have the pen, she'll try to sell you something that really isn't what you want, and if you try to pay for it, it will boggle her mind; after all, they don't sell those pens!

Mom, to save you the trouble of telling me that you didn't think you raised a daughter who goes out there and steals, I've already sent myself an e-mail expressing that sentiment, signed "Mom."

And I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my iPhone that went walkabout from the Brisbane Airport will be returned by someone who decided to steal-and-return it, just like that pen. I just need to figure out how to pick it up...