Week 2 – The case of the travelling can: trusting in strangers
Kaleidoscope Pale Ale: bubbly bathwater fizz. It’s no wonder the beers have sat in the hot back seat of Sionedd’s car for the last 3 weeks. Initially a gift from her North Island friend, I now gripped them in my fleece pockets as we drifted to Mungo’s Hi-Fi, determined not to fall asleep on the dancefloor. I cracked one open, held my nose, and sipped.
I’d arrived in Queenstown on Wednesday afternoon and spent two days resting up in an Air B n B courtesy of my lovely mum. Sionedd and I had heard how hard it was to find accommodation both here and in neighbouring Wanaka, but trusted we’d find something, somehow. By Friday we were sat in the van, rain hitting the aluminium roof as we put the phone down on the last hostel: no vacancies. We felt hopeless, the pot of our imagined money draining before our eyes, only two days in.
But we had the VW caddy, a bed in the back and each other – we resolved for this weekend to enjoy ourselves.
Half a Kaleidoscope beer into Mungo’s I gave up on the can, its soapy flavours having somehow deepened during the short walk to the club. Sionedd took the reject and handed it to the stranger sweating next to us. Ecstatic to be receiving such a delicious gift, Andrew quickly blossomed into our knight in shining armour, promising work and board at the hotel he managed. Hurrah! We were saved!
The next day, still high on relief, we were cooking some peanut butter porridge and struck up a conversation with a one-legged caravan tour guide named Zoran. Wanaka, he said, is the place to go. He picked up the phone and rang his friend with an organic market garden: “I’ve got two girls here looking for accommodation. Give them a job.” The ghost of the kaleidoscope can was with us still.
Martyn’s garden turned out to be the Eden we’d dreamt of; beds of organic veg meet a winding stream interspersed with willow trees, cabins and a communal cooking area, all crafted by Martyn. An outward bounds instructor turned end-of-the-world-preped gardener, Martyn is as Manc as they come, the pride of Britain, a slice of home. Having never heard anything from Andrew again, we’re set to move into a campervan at the garden this week.
Sionedd said that she felt more grounded and safe with Martyn in this little slice of green than she did for the entirety of the cacao ceremony we went to on our first night in Wanaka. For me, the ceremony was the first time I had allowed myself to truly relax since landing, feeling a soft buzz through my body that stayed with me all evening. At the end of the session we each drew Angel cards, mine read: Magnetism.
Being able to just “be open” to opportunities is a privilege: we have Sionedd’s beautiful, compact VW Caddy for trips and emergency beds; we have savings and the reassurance of home a flight away. We are set for now, but who knows what is round the corner, or the people we will meet along the way, signalling us to opportunities or coming along for the ride. This entry is a reminder to be open, grateful and always brave.
