No yesterdays on the road

When you’re traveling, you are what you are – or what you choose to be – right then and there.  This is the beauty, the liberty, the appeal of being in a place where nobody knows you.  People you meet on the road have no idea of your past achievements or failures, glories or hurts, talents or neuroses, status or possessions or lack thereof – and usually don’t give a damn about them, either. 

You will be neither lauded nor judged for all that went before.  By the time future you rolls around, you’ll be long gone.  This makes living in the present infinitely easier, not having to conform to others’ expectations based on previous prejudices. Unless you decide to unburden yourself and/or toot your own horn (both obnoxious and inadvisable social maneuvers) the world will see only the you of that day.  So who do you really want to put forward? 

Went out to Waiheke Island the other day to see “New Zealand’s premier outdoor contemporary sculpture exhibition” – cool works in a beautiful setting:

One piece in particular spoke to me (text from the catalog):   

First Step to Existentialism

Christian Nicolson

STOP. This is really important. Have you flossed today? Do you buy free range? In life we are faced with decisions constantly. Some big, some small. We are forever processing information. How do we choose to do what we do? Is it easier to do what is expected of us?

I believe in doing the right thing whenever possible.  But sometimes it’s more complicated than that. Sometimes it’s a matter of not doing the wrong thing.  Is the right thing the wrong thing? Is the wrong thing the right thing? It’s a judgment call. Sometimes that takes courage. Don’t forget who you are. You’re a fully-fledged human being. 

Ok the light is green now, you can probably go. But don’t listen to me. What would I know? 

Of course, this journey of mine has been one big pause button on the existential mp4 player.  I stopped the relentless projection of my life and have spent these six months rewinding, replaying, sometimes even fast-forwarding, while trying my best to take full, life-affirming advantage of the moment. 

My point being (I think) that the traffic light up on the big screen has gone from red to yellow and is clearly turning green; ok, some days it’s flashing a pretty strong caution signal but all in all, I feel it’s time to move ahead.  

Yikes, there must be something about having a birthday that makes me so contemplative…and on that note, how I wish there were no tomorrows, either! 

Notes from a long, lonely NZ night...

Warning: contains harsh language and snarky sentiments

*Sure, the Kiwis are friendly but I haven’t made many friends yet…of course, the hurdles are higher in a city.  Met a bonny woman, a fellow mom, who lives just down the street -- hope I’m not dipping too deep into her well of generosity.

*Yoga is not an aerobic sport.  And now I’ve got myself signed up for a 71-km (44-mile) walk in 2 weeks – what the hell was I thinking?  The ability to put my toes to my nose will not help me one bit on the trail.  Damn.

*Lying on the coffee table, this is symbolic of my life right now: 

It is the only key in my possession, and of course it’s not even mine – just a pass to a temporary home and poignant indication of my lack of possessions.  No house. No apartment. No car (or truck or van or vespa or camper).  Keine Ferienwohnung. Pathetic.  Exhilarating.

*The so-called “manifesto” on the Lululemon carry bag hanging on the closet commands me:   Do one thing a day that scares you.  The conscious brain can only hold one thought at a time, choose a positive thought.  Visualize your eventual demise, it can have an amazing effect on how you live for the moment.  10-15 friends allows for real relationships.  Seriously?  Give me an effin' break.

*Another platitude common amongst yogi wannabes: All Is Good.  Bullshit.  A lot really sucks sometimes.  Not to say it won’t get better, and usually we do learn and grow from the hard stuff, but glossing over pain and heartache with “all is good” glibly diminishes what the sufferer is experiencing. 

*Why so stingy with the wi-fi?  

*The next person who says Eat Pray Love to me might just get a punch in the face.  Makes me feel like such a cliché.  

*My oh-so-perceptive friend in La-La Land tells me that my cynicism is the wound and that both can be healed… Ronda, my love, I know you know whereof you speak but the cynic in me has been a lifelong companion and I am quite fond of its troll-like, quirky, comforting presence.  What should take its place?  

*I’m afraid that the old ghosts are still rattling their chains in Zurich and will continue to haunt me on my return.  Really feeling the pressure to go back all reformed, reborn, rediscovered, redeemed, re-something-or-other.  Boo.

*I will be fifty-fucking-four years old next week.  Crikey!

Sweet as, dahling!

Sweet as: a common New Zealand expression that means anything from better than good to ok to cool or even awesome, and sometimes just yes.

I’ve been in Auckland over a week now but things continue to feel topsy-turvy.  I suppose the biggest reason is that it’s full-on summer in mid-January.  Many of the locals are still away on holiday since the school year doesn’t begin until February. It’s also partly things like driving on the left side of the road with right-hand steering.  And there is still loads of Christmas deco adorning the city.  Then it’s compounded by little things like the electrical switches (flick them down to turn on); the water taps (twist them counterclockwise to open); the way revolving doors spin clockwise. 

I guess this pretty much explains it: 

Who says our traditional map of the world is the right way to view it? 

 

 

(Those of you who know what a fan of cartography I am will not be surprised to learn that I couldn’t resist adding this one to my collection.) 

At the same time, there’s much that’s pretty perfect here right now, especially the fact that it’s full-on summer.

The long days; crisp, clear light; easy livin’ vibe; and luscious weather (heavenly in the a.m., warming up ideally in the afternoon, then cooling off to refreshing temps in eve) remind me of Zurich at its best.  Vibrant bougainvillea and fragrant honeysuckle are in bloom everywhere and there are even palm trees.  Tables out on sidewalks, cabriolets on the roads, boats on the water, festivals on the weekends, picnics on the beaches, lounging on park lawns – my plan to assiduously avoid winter this year has paid off in spades. 

And to make this even more palatable, I was thrilled to learn that New Zealand has kickass coffee!  The double shot is standard: every cup begins with twice as much espresso and then you go from there.  Took me a while to figure out what’s what (short black, flat white, long black, blue milk, trim, piccolo, robusto) but I can now order like a Kiwi.

The art of coffee-making is very competitive, with cafés and baristas vying for the vote of best in town by their demanding, discerning customers – and the winner is…me!  Sweet as! 

Dateline: Auckland, New Zealand

The new year finds me beginning a new chapter of my journey in two new hemispheres (Southern and Eastern) with – I cannot resist the pun  – new zeal. 

Now halfway through my RTW trip, both geographically and temporally, I am relieved to report that I’m not the least bit weary of either the travel or the company.  Yes, I agree that everything around airports is a hassle, but I still get a thrill from takeoffs and landings and find the experience of flying especially exhilarating.  Even better is the opportunity to delve deep into new places and discover them at my pace without the standard strictures of guidebooks.  And I am having a ball with my party of one.

In fact, I’m so digging this gig that I wonder if I could somehow create a career as a professional nomad….

City of Sails

 

 

After almost 6 months in rainforests and jungles, on ranches and islands, I am really ready for a city fix – but not too overwhelming a one.  (Do need to gradually get my urban groove on as there are several serious metropolises to experience ahead: Sydney, Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh, Singapore, Istanbul, Paris).  With its 1.4 million laidback Kiwis, Auckland is very manageable, and ranks number 3 on the most recent Mercer Quality of Living survey (right behind Zurich). 

Auckland skyline

 

I made a very fortunate Airbnb selection, and am delighted with my funky Ponsonby neighborhood – chockablock with hip cafés, ethnic eateries, eclectic boutiques, vintage clothing stores, and Bikram yoga studios. 

Home for this month

Just my style!

 

However, I must admit I’m feeling a bit discombobulated here on the underside of the planet; could this be because I crossed both the International Date Line and the Equator in one go?

January 6^th didn’t happen for me this year.  Departed Los Angeles at 9pm Monday (5^th) when it was already tomorrow in NZ; somewhere over the Pacific, Tuesday disappeared, and I landed here on Wednesday morning (7^th).  Good thing is that with a time difference of 21 hours, I feel virtually no jet lag – just lost a day. 

Its proximity to the IDL means that Auckland is the first major city in the world to experience a new day and a new year – how cool is that?  And here’s another fun fact:  New Zealand is antipodal to Western Europe.  In geography, the antipode of any location is the point on the Earth's surface which is diametrically opposite to it; a straight line drawn from one to the other passes smack through the core.  

This means I’m on the exact other side of the world from my kiddos, and sensing the distance pretty acutely. Part of me very much wanted to crawl into my son’s suitcase in Tortola and return to Switzerland with them, and the departure board at LAX seemed to be provoking me with temptation:

Should I stay (on course) or should I go (home)? 

 

I hope I’ll adjust quickly to being on my own again after two emotional, fun-filled weeks with family and friends.  My commitment was made long ago and so I will embrace the continuation of my circumnavigation as the itinerant zealot / zealous itinerant I have become.   

BEST. CHRISTMAS. PRESENT. EVER!!!

Reunited with my phenomenal kids on Tortola!  Life is SOOOOO good!

May yours be just as joyous! 

A squillion freckles and counting...

Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.

--Miriam Beard
 
By now I thoroughly expected to be feeling more annoyed than pleased by the sun, sand, and seawater that saturate my current setting.  Figured I’d be fed up with the constant slathering on of sunscreen that has constituted my daily beauty routine for the past 10 weeks. Sick of the dried salt on my skin and in my hair.  Tired of sand underfoot everywhere all the time.  Bored with beach life and getting fidgety for more action.

On the contrary, I am still savoring every second of it all. 

I am utterly content to be so unkempt.  No eyeliner or lipstick.  My daily wardrobe consists of a bathing suit and cover-up, changing for dinner into something slightly less informal, like a t-shirt and shorts.  Am ecstatic to sit outside round the clock with nothing warmer than a light cotton shawl.  Go barefoot whenever reasonably possible and when not, am thrilled to have an extremely limited choice of footwear:

everyday shoes

dress shoes

 

And to think there are 165 pairs of closed-toe boots and high heels in storage in Zurich! 

Although my epidermis is clearly better suited to cooler climes, it has (despite the fanatic use of SPF 50+ products) taken on a shade of tawny-copper-amber and I now have the best tan – and the most freckles – of my entire life.  Fun for a change.

I am absolutely adoring having no agenda whatsoever.

Find that I can spend entire days on the beach…staring out at the horizon…mesmerized by the sunlight glinting off the sea…strolling in the waves’ edge…swimming and snorkeling…reading and dozing in the shade of a canvas umbrella…observing the breakers rolling in…and out…in…out…trying to define the various shades of blue: cerulean? azure? aqua? turquoise? teal? cobalt? cyan? 

The only decision that has to be made is which open-air food shack to lunch at while a balmy breeze rustles the palm fronds and the crashing surf accompanies reggae Christmas carols on the bar stereo.

A well-chilled rosé has its place in the world

 

When I need a change of scenery from the sunlit strands of sand, I go diving amongst the reefs and wrecks here.  A slow descent, adjusting to the sensation of suspension in the water – an amazing lightness despite the lead weights around the waist and steel tank on the back.  Underwater breathing is my meditation…inhaling…exhaling…in…out… the bubbles emitted from my regulator the only other sound, the perfection of my buoyancy the achievement of the day. 

           

In this age of constant movement, staying in one place has become a huge challenge for most of us – and a greater necessity than ever before. How shall I find this sort of contentment back home, in a landlocked country no less?  Not sure but it will behoove me to try more often to slow down and be still, and I can now give myself permission to do so with a clear conscience.

And in this season of supposed spiritual reflection, most of us are instead more likely stressed out by the crowds, chaos, and commerce of the holidays.  Of course here in the Caribbean it doesn’t feel like Christmas as we know it and it is easier to stay serene so far from the usual onslaught.  I wish for you all the chance to retreat, however briefly, from the hectic pace and pressures, and I gift you a little bit of my peace.  

Tranquility Wrapped in Blue

Anguilla, West Indies

Many would – and do – call this paradise, not least among them the Anguillian Tourism Board.  (The title of this post is also their marketing slogan.) However, I refuse to use the word, even though the beach that is my current home is indeed one classic image of what we think of when imagining a “place of extreme beauty, delight, or happiness.”  And there are 32 more! 

But I know the Caribbean well enough and have seen enough of this island to realize the reality beyond the white sand and blue surf.  The contrast between us and them is harsh: luxury 5-star hotels and palatial private homes on the coast vs. cement-block, tin-roofed shacks in the interior; some of the world’s best beaches at our doorstep vs. goats chomping on garbage piles and burning brush in the backyard; twice the national average income spent on one 2-week holiday. 

Anguilla may be just 16 miles long and 3 miles wide (26 x 5 km) but the divide between the haves and have-nots is immeasurable. 

Wasn’t it better for the natives before tourists discovered their home?  Island life back in the day may have fallen short by Western standards of living, but as long as the indigenous folks were not using our yardstick, then who’s to presume they weren’t content with their self-sufficiency?  Of course our presence here creates jobs but how happy are they really to cook and clean for us, serve us, drive us, wait on us, tend to our every wish and whim?  Do the dollars we add to the local economy truly make their lives more comfortable?  How naïve to think they don’t feel any resentment towards us. 

But, having said this, I have to admit that it appears to not be so in this case, and it must be largely because the history of this island’s citizens is divergent from other neighboring populations of African descent.  

The Europeans who attempted to establish plantations on Anguilla in the early 19^th century had no luck with the poor soil and arid climate, and eventually returned to the Continent, leaving the land in the hands of former slaves.  Those newly minted farmers had no greater success with crops and so many turned to fishing, boatbuilding, and even seasonal work in the sugar cane fields on surrounding islands.  Despite their hardships, they remained independent and evolved into a proud, determined, and hardworking society.   

This pride in ownership and success through tenacity accounts for the distinction between this island’s vibe and that of others in this part of the world.  In all honesty, the Anguillians seem sincerely welcoming and glad to share their country’s gorgeous gifts.  The continued lack of any land-based natural resources has propelled them to develop their high-end tourism industry (as well as offshore banking biz), and they are doing so to the apparent pleasure and benefit of everyone, locals and visitors alike.   

So I’ll get off my soapbox now…and head back to my little slice of heaven.