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As a few of you may have noticed I am currently not in Japan and am instead sitting here back in Cloverdale looking for a job and thinking of what to write to wrap up such an incredible journey. Despite the unfortunate circumstances that led to my arrival back in Canada, I could not be happier to be home.

                It felt really surreal being back after a year abroad. Climbing into a full sized truck, and not the import sized trucks and Utes that populated Australia and New Zealand. I was passing all these landmarks that I knew so well yet it felt like a dream, I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or sad. My mind was having a hard time deciphering the experience; had I just imagined the last year or was I just having another dream of home and I would soon awake back in New Zealand. Even as I sit here writing this I find it hard to believe I am back home.

                Despite my stubbornness not to get jet-lagged after only a five hour time difference, I find myself not sleeping regularly and waking up either super early in the morning or in middle of the day. To try and get my head around the change and just to escape the whole rush of feelings I decided I would jump on the bike and escape to something familiar. The route I eventually decided on was to take the back roads to Fort Langley as they would have the least traffic and from there the roads were all fairly easy, empty and safe.

                The bike I chose for my ride today was my touring bike as I had still not put my road bike back together after dismantling it over a year ago. I immediately noticed the resistance the bigger tires and bike added, never the less not carrying my life over the rear tire was a big improvement and I found myself gliding effortlessly up the shallow hills of east Langley. The weather of Canada was a welcome comfort on the bike, no need to constantly be taking off and putting back on your jacket depending on wither the roadside vegetation was blocking the sun out or not. Nope it was officially cold at home and there would be no removal of any of the layers I had left the house in. In just over thirty minutes I arrived in the small town of Fort Langley, only 18km from my parent’s house, and decided to stop for a morning coffee at the locally famous Wendalls Books and Café. I took out the four dollar that the board said my mocha would cost me only to be asked for the remaining forty eight cents that I owed… Oh right tax is not included in Canada. As I sat beside my bike enjoying my mocha it began to sink in that I was home; the weather was cold and held that eerie uncertainty of rain that Vancouverites knew all too well; The road I took to my destination was devoid of roundabouts and the traffic on them was far too great in number; but most of all I knew exactly where I was, I knew where North was and every turn was no longer an adventure but a route I had known and calculated.

                Getting the grande mocha was probably unnecessary and I was not expecting the size of it compared to what I had been drinking for the last year or the volume of my stomach it would occupy as I weaved the bike up the winding road of 264^th Street. Brian and I had really only seen rain four times in our 1500km journey through New Zealand but as I crested the top of that winding hill and began to gear back up, it started to rain. I had been home for two days, chose to cycle for one of those and it started raining on me. Eager to not let the rain get any worse I made my way home, wet and cold but home.

                It’s amazing the things you learn in a year and how much you can change and realise about yourself and potential. Now I’m back and I have to use the lessons I learned, and from good and bad, to not fall into the same routines that I had before I left. They say travelling changes you, and I know its cliché but I do believe it does. The hard part is coming home and keeping that positive change and not falling back into your old self, as it seems so much easier to do.

Auckland and Some Last Minute Halloweening

                Today is Halloween in Auckland and Brian and I have decided that as we have not had a night out in the city, tonight was as good a night as any to give it a go. Problem is when you are living your life out of a backpack, you do not really have much in the way of on hand costumes. Being a fairly tight budget and having not much in the way of costume ideas, I set to the streets to join the crowds of other last minute Halloweeners and hopefully some inspiration.

                My first stop would be a dollar store that Brian and I had stumbled up on during one of previous explorations of Auckland.  The only idea that I come up with so far was to go as BoJack Horseman from the Netflix comedy series, as I figured all I would need is a horsehead. Having no luck finding a horse head mask that wasn’t rainbow, I was back to square one. As I weaved through the store, costumes and supplies littering the floor, I came to the bridesmaid/birthday girl section and was drawn back to a costume idea Brian had brought up last time we were in the store. I was going to go as one of those party girls that you typically see at the bachelorette parties. For the budget price of $15 and only a few weird looks, I was now the proud owner of pink stockings, a sash, a fluorescent pink cowboy hat, ‘PARTY’ glasses, and to top it all off a little pink tutu… SHOTS BITCHES!!

                Back at the hostel, Brian and enjoyed some cheap hostel beers while playing chess before we joined the rest of the hostel in costume. I think I wrote way back in the beginning of this blog when I was in Sydney that dressing up for Halloween in other parts of the world was different to back home in North America. Over here almost every costume includes fake blood, it doesn’t matter if you want to be the Lorax from Dr. Suess, you would be the Lorax who just got murdered by Thing One and Two and had was returning from the grave for revenge. So my costume was a little out of place.

                Having not gone out much over the last month and a half Brian and I were finding it difficult to get back into the unfamiliar environment of the bar scene. Shoulder to shoulder crowds of costumed backpackers drinking and dancing to deafening levels of music; we tried to fit and have a few drinks but when you’re spending $8 per beer and the last month that $8 has been able to potentially support an entire day’s worth of food you find it hard to get in to the mindset. So with no words and only glance, Brian and I left the bar at just past midnight in search of a snack and some breathing room.

                We were meant to awake early the this morning to watch the All Blacks compete in the final of the rugby world cup but with the city alive as it was all night we decided to stay in bed. Thinking back on it now, I’m sure we would have achieved the same amount of sleep had we gone out and watched the game as we got laying in our beds. There was a brief period between two thirty and three where the city seemed to settle and quiet down. Though just as we had fallen asleep the city made its resurgence and was alive again. This time not with the drunken cries of costumed hooligans but instead the cheers of drunken rugby hooligans, so pretty much the same thing. As the game went on, so did the cheers now accompanied with honks of passing cars. The game seemed to go on forever as I tossed and turned in my bed eagerly awaiting the gentle embrace of sleep, finally amiss all the celebratory cheers and honks sleep found me.

                The next morning we awoke to a city much like the one we found when we first arrived. The streets seemed oddly empty save for the odd sexily dressed nurse wandering home on the always enjoyable to watch post Halloween walk of shame. A couple of friends we had met at the start of our NZ adventure were in town for the game that morning so we decided to meet up with them later that evening for our last night in Auckland. We decided to try and grab some coffee but as most cafes had shut their doors for the big game that morning we were forced to an awesome little craft beer bar for a sampler and some catch up. Well we drank our various beers of the thirty some odd they had on tap we exchanged stories of the places we had visited on our trips up this breathtaking nation. After I finished my Unicorn Piss, one of the beers I had in my sampler, we decided that we were all fairly weary from the night before and it was time to turn in. After all I had a big day of travelling to do tomorrow.

               

Auckland, A City of Secrets

                Brian and I have calling Auckland home since Monday morning and it is now Saturday. AS our budgets are fairly tight and we have to list our bikes we have confined ourselves to the hostel and limited our exploring. When you put these restrictions on yourself you truly begin to realise the limits cities have for travellers. Sure they are great for short amounts of time meet people and maybe stay and replenish funds well you work but other than that there is not much you can experience in the city without having to fork out a few dollars for it. This is not something we had experienced much of in New Zealand, where there was always a really cool hike or a chance at seeing an awe-inspiring natural wonder if we just rode the bikes a few miles off the trail. The one free place we had found was just down the street from our hostel on the wharf. The Cloud, as the locals had named it, is this giant temporary style structure kind of resembling the old roof of BC Place that is filled with tons of free activities like ping pong, giant chess and many more. Needless to say, I spent a fair amount of my time there.

                Today I had decided that as my bike had still not sold I was going to go around the city and actively canvas it with some guerilla marketing. So I strapped a sign to my back pack and set off on the bike after what seemed like a lifetime apart. The weather outside was absolutely beautiful today with the sun shining and the temperature in the low twenties. Immediately as I slid my shoes back into the toe clips of my pedals I felt at home. The wind against my face and no massive bag at the rear slowing me down. I decided I was going to go down near the water and lock the bike up where there were lots of cyclists and other active individuals enjoying the sweet combination of the sea breeze and warm sunshine.  Only problem was I was really enjoying being back in the saddle and soon found myself continuing on this stunning seaside path.

                I have titled this entry ‘Auckland, City of Secrets,’ the reason for this being that everything amazing I have found about Auckland has been unadvertised and just out of the central business district. When I went a little stir crazy yesterday I decided to go for a walk along the harbour and look at some really nice sailboats and giant yachts, when I ended up stumbling up on a fish market and a bustling harbour full of restaurants and cafes. Today I found myself along this seaside path pedaling along and looking out at the breathtaking Auckland harbour and all the beaches and local fisherman perched on the rocks.

                Before I knew what happened I had peddled 10km and was at the end of the path. I stopped a few times to give people, who were interested in my bike, my number and several more to take some pictures of the vistas and sometimes just to take it all in. At the end of the path was a charming little white sand beach with benches overlooking, it looked good time for me to take a seat. On this beach a father and his two sons were playing some touch rugby, when one of the sons scrapped his leg on a shell in the sand. The father offered the young boy some water to clean it off but the boy exclaimed, “I’m not a Wallaby dad, I can handle this.” I couldn’t help but sit back and chuckle. This was the Auckland I was looking for.

                As I rode my bike back into the city I received an offer on my bike. It wasn’t until this moment that I realised my attachment to my bike. I had truly grown to love it, even though its continued persistence to stay out of tune. This bike had taken me farther than any bike I had ever owned and now I was going to sell it to some stranger. Sitting in the theater square where I was scheduled to meet the buyer I tried not to look at the old girl, it would be easier that way. Some brief chit chat about her life in my hands and I soon was walking way cash in my pocket. As I walked away I took my Hollywood over my shoulder last glimpse as she glided away along the pavement, a city life await her now.

Day 25: Auckland

                 Today was our earliest day of the trip and a weird one with our backpacks all packed again and on our backs instead of strapped to our bikes. After saying our thanks and goodbyes to Graham we found ourselves standing at a bus stop awaiting our coach to Auckland. We had chosen the coach because of the horror stories of cyclists trying to make their way into Auckland and getting clipped. The coach ride was pretty average through rolling pastures and farmlands that make up much of this region. Despite a fairly rocky journey I managed to get some sleep to lessen the boring 4 hour ride. Although the bus did make frequent stops along the way to pick up and drop off passengers, we did stop long enough for Brian and I to squeeze in some McDonalds and a coffee for the road.

                I could tell the last couple days that Brian had been dreading coming to Auckland and spending some time in the big city. Even when Brian had come to Sydney when I first travelling he didn’t like the atmosphere that big cities created. Coming through all these small towns and meeting so many wonderful people through NZ, I must say that I was also dreading the big city but I also think that I was more ready to finish the bike journey than Brian. But we had similar feelings of dread coming into Wellington and we had turned out to love it there so as the bus approached our station in the middle of the concrete jungle I attempted to brighten the mood and smile at our new home for the next week.

                As we walked through the city towards our hostel we couldn’t help but notice it seemed somewhat deserted, for a city at least. Given that it was only 11:45 and a holiday Monday we kept up our optimism and wandered, packs on front and back pushing our bikes through the concrete corridors of Queen St. Our hostel was in the second and third floor of an old stone building with a bar and restaurant below, probably won’t be getting that quite country sleep that we had become accustom to. The main lobby of the hostel was average as far as hostels go. A large open expanse with tables and sitting area where people could enjoy some television or free hostel internet, crawling speed. Not quite sure if we should wait around for 2 o’clock check in time or wander the streets, while attempting to decide on place have lunch I spotted chess board. As my knowledge of chess is fairly rudimentary and Brian is quite keen on chess there was some domination on Brians part.

                After many losses and my first win, I was growing restless of the sitting and eager to explore what Auckland could give us. Brian had decided that this would be prime Skype time, either that or he needs some time away from me. Regardless I was out in search of adventure on my own in the big city, they should make movie about this premise. Auckland, as it turns out is not New York City and does seep, especially during these national holidays. With much of the shops closed, I went in search of something to drink and great views, an item I never had trouble finding in New Zealand. Aucklands harbour is really beautiful though not in the same way that Wellington was with the forest still in view. Aucklands harbour was full of business from its bustling port to all the navy ships that were stationed around the docks. I decided this would be a good place to grab a drink and appreciate the views before I took back to the streets. Sitting back in a nice comfy chair staring out at the harbour I reminisced on our journey up to this point, as I had found myself doing often as of late. We had set a goal and made it happen with little knowledge and training. I spent the next couple hours, well Brian skyped, exploring Aucklands central business district and it reminded me of a slightly smaller Vancouver, full of hipsters and small Asian restaurants. It made me miss home so I got some food and returned to the hostel. Sitting her now enjoying a $3 beer from the hostel bar and losing at chess I’m excited for my next adventure to Japan but also very ready to see friends and family. Day 25, ….this is awkward

               

Day 24: Tauranga

                Although we have had a few days not cycling, this morning felt different. Graham and Suzanne had set out a nice spread of toast and eggs with various jellies and jams and fresh fruit for breakfast and I had the chance to get to know them better due to my early slumber last night. In our small time in Rotorua we had got to talking to some people about Tauranga and the surrounding beaches. So talking to Graham and Suzanne this morning we mentioned that we were going to try and take advantage of the blue skies and warm weather and go explore some nearby beaches and the famed Mount Manganui. Fortunate for our legs and thanks to the generosity of Graham we would not have to hop on the bikes and would instead be travelling on one these fancy motorized vehicles that we had seen whizzing past us on our cycling. It felt really weird to travel in a small vehicle after going almost 1500kms on a peddle bike; the short 15kms we travelled by Grahams truck may have taken us a hour by bike. Being in the coastal town of Mount Manganui reminded of being back in Manly Beach in Sydney, my favorite place over there. There were lots of cool little shops and the beach was lined with huge palm trees, it’s the first time since I left Australia that I felt like I was in another tropical country. To paint a little picture, Tauranga lies in what is called the Bay of Plenty which is crescent in shape. Mount Manganui is a small mountain, Canadian hill, on a small point in this bay. As we walked up the mount, Graham told us about his and Suzannes travels and their life in Tauranga. This is one of the other things, besides the price tag, that Brian and I enjoyed about Warmshowers. Not only are we meeting real kiwis and other cycle tourists but we get experiences like this walk with Graham and getting to learn more about the local area. Reaching the top of the mount, New Zealand once again did not disappoint. Below us were tropical blue waters bordered starkly by white sand beaches. For you beach lovers this is paradise.

                When we got down to the beach we enjoyed a nice coffee on the grass and exchanged stories of our troubles getting prepared for cycle the cycle tour. Before heading back home, Graham took us through downtown Tauranga and it was like I was back in White Rock, BC; shops and restaurants ran along the beachside road looking out at the water. You could defiantly see the appeal in living here. Back at the house it was approaching dinner time and Graham and Suzanne have invited us in on their first BBQ of the season.

                What a place to finish our final cycle. Graham and Suzanne were the best of hosts, dinner was so delicious and Graham has even offered to drive us to our early morning bus tomorrow. So after an awesome new game of cards, taught to us by Graham and Suzanne, Brian and I are off to bed so we can be up nice and early for our bus tomorrow. Big city here we come.

Day 22/23: Rotorua to Tauranga

                There are some who say that there is better feeling than waking up to the almost palpable odor of farts and the gentle tapping of rain against tin. Those people are insane, delusional and probably from Rotorua. Though today, with the possibility of it being our last day on the bikes and most of it being downhill we packed our bags rain falling down on us. Today’s journey had been in discussion over the last few days. We had originally planned to go up towards Hobbiton so we could sit and have a drink at the Green Dragon, but after seeing the price of $75 and hearing some fairly average reviews, we decided to head for the beach city of Tauranga.

                There is a superstition I skiing and snowboarding that you never call last run out of fear that you will injure yourself on that run. Well apparently I had been calling last run. It all started with the rain in the morning, something we had expected, but about 7km outside Rotorua we experienced the result of my ignorance for superstition. Brian called out the three honks and we slowed to a stop at the side of the road. Brian had caught a small puncture in his rear tire, only our second of the trip and is if written for television, our last day. Luckily for us Brian’s big mountain bike tires are much easier to change the rain did the oddest thing and stopped. Getting back on the road, we started our short climb slow climb towards the rolling downward hills into Tauranga.

                The climb was longer than we expected but over the last few weeks our bodies have become more and more tuned to keep up the momentum as we climbed these long gradual hills. When the ascent finally leveled out we prepared for a, seemingly, small gorge that we noticed when studying the elevation maps. The funny thing about maps is how small and insignificant they make everything look comparatively. Approaching the ‘small’ gorge I started to get nervous at our steadily increasing downward spiral and the length at which it was going. Deeper and deeper we plunged along the steep road swirling through fern and rocky cliffs around us. Though it felt like miles we had probably only gone around a kilometer or two down and we had reached the bottom. Around us were ancient ferns that grown to the heights of pines that covered the top of the gorge. The end of this trip was just the end of cycling and getting to our destination but also the end of all those feelings that come with this journey. Travelling through this steep gorge was New Zealand’s way of sending us time travelling and it been this entire adventure. Starting in the modern mountain town instantly to the rural farming communities of the nineteenth century and then back 65 million years to Prehistoric earth. It’s these unique experiences that help you push through the climb.

                Exiting the gorge we began the last leg of our journey through the rolling hills into Tauranga. Nearing closer and closer to Auckland we began to see many more adventurers beginning their own cycling journey towards the bottom of this beautiful nation, and funny enough they all looked way more prepared. But at three o’ clock we saw the Bay of Plenty and our final destination by way of bike, so for one last time we tipped our tires down the hill and sped towards our finish.

                Thanks to Brian’s efforts and ability to make us sound like descent people over the phone we had found another Warmshowers for tonight. We arrived to open arms, clean comfy beds, and offers of warms showers, which were quite needed after the muggy weather and getting into manholes for snapchats. At this point I would like to tell you a little more about our gracious hosts, Graham and Suzanne, but I’m afraid after I finished my shower I quickly fell asleep and have only now awaken to everyone being asleep. Day 23, 64kms down and the cycling is over…

Day 21: Taupo to Rotorua

                As we near the end of this epic and I think more and more of home, I am finding it ever harder to get into the mindset to jump on the bike and peddle to the next destination. The one thing that gets me back on the bike, besides not really having anyway else to get to Auckland, is that when I get home and look back later in life I want to say I cycled up New Zealand not three quarters of this beautiful nation. I know this is not the greatest reason but at this point anything that gets me into that saddle and past the first 10km is worth it.

                Today we were headed for another lakeside town called Rotorua. Rotorua is known as the mountain biking capital of NZ and is home to some of the best trails in the world. The road to Rotorua from Taupo was another fairly simple one with only 400m of vertical climb. Despite another day of bleak weather forecasts, the weather seemed to holding off and we were making great time through the valley. As we get further away from Taupo and closer to Rotorua you begin to see, and smell, more evidence of the heavy geothermal activity in this region. Out in the middle of a giant field you could see this gigantic concrete tower like those from the nuclear power plants. Not exactly sure of what it was until we got closer and could smell the distinctly egg fart smell of the sulphides from the geothermal wells, we found out it was large kiln powered by the geothermal wells. The further we got the more intense the small, it was like biking through a giant cloud of fart that was almost palpable. About 30km outside our destination, Brian had read about some free geothermal pools with a river flowing through them. Despite some slight hesitation on my part, mostly due to already being warm from biking and worried we would spend too long in the pools and the weather would decide to open up on us, we made the turn off and were soon slowly dipping in to the hot smelly waters. Having the stream running through the pools was a really cool addition as you were able to choose how hot you wanted the water based on your position relative to the stream. Spending a little too much time in the water, we dried ourselves off and got our now tired and relaxed bodies back on the bikes. Climbing up our last hills of the day we were regretting the hot pools but how often do you get the chance to jump in some natural hot water stream.

                Rolling into Rotorua, Mother Nature gave us a little drizzle to remind us who was in charge. Like the rest of the area around this region, it smells like dirty egg farts in Rotorua due to the geothermal activity. When we got to our stay in town we were greeted to a really neat little night market right at our door. I was going to like this place. This is where you find us now enjoying a nice dinner of sausages and fried potatoes. Day 21, 86km and who cut the cheese.