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This is a line from the Rune Cards book, a meditation on the runic emblem for Wunjo or Joy and it haunts me on the journey south, coming unbidden to mind, a message from my soul as I stand in the wind and sun, under the cloud and at the break and end of the day and see all that lies before me in this mighty land of Aotearoa. Too long in Auckland without escape, the South Island had been calling … a whisper to re-experience the boundless joy of big boulder rivers and the soothing soul sounds they make, to breath again the magic crisp air of Queenstown, to drive through those great passes of the south – Lindis, Lewis, Bourke’s, Arthur’s – to feel again the beat and majesty of the land and reconnect to something missing in my daily life. To experience the best of New Zealand travel. Two weeks unfettered and unhindered unfold on the road, time to reconnect to what matters to me most, to live in the moment, an ode to adventure and travel and the beloved nature who supports and surrounds us all. Fleeing commitment, done with hesitation, the long thought of trip becomes real and in the great spirit of Walt Whitman I take to the open road, afoot and light hearted, fancy free. Down into the heartland of central Otago we go, the leaves are golden and fall like blessings over our heads as they loosen from the trees to which they’ve clung for the last half-year. Everywhere we turn the landscape on this New Zealand travel journey is golden and green and miles of openness stretches empty ahead and to each side of the car, the cooling autumn wind rushing up to greet us freed from the heaviness of diesel fumes and heavy populations. The pace slows and the people linger always to talk. There’s openness, a spirit of warmth and human connection that seems to come so naturally from people freed of big city pressures. We’re having connecting conversations with service station attendants, talk with a lovely family from Christchurch who have been coming to the same spot in Omarama for 26 years to holiday, we laugh with motel owners and restaurant waiters and hear a continual story of people seeking a solace from the land, a spirit they find fills their soul. They’ve moved south from Auckland or west from southern cities, pushing deeper into the hills and to the places great nature lies. We find paradise in a place just north of Glenorchy with its funky café and open-sided possum skin shop and then push on deeper south, into Fiordland and the mysterious landscape of so many unchartered hills and valleys - so much a part of New Zealand travel. The landscape empties even more and during a long drive south my travelling friend turns to me and asks startled: “When did we last see a car?” We stop ravenous for a late lunch on the road to Te Anau and meet vibrant entrepreneurial country craftswomen who have combined farming nouse and inherent wise women skills to open a thriving cafe come craft store come plant nursery. Their warmth and openness and ease a tonic from city people habituated to think and hesitate before they show others who they truly are. Later the journey back tracks us up through the singularly spectacular road that connects Wanaka to Haast – striking mirrored lakes in the late evening, the thrill of traversing the side of one lake to turn a corner and find ourselves traversing the length of yet another. Windswept Makarora – site of a life of long ago as a tour leader encouraging young travellers, especially young Asians, to let go city fears and tramp and fly and jet boat into the wondrous of Mount Aspiring National Park, the thrill of the day echoing on through the rest of their live, the epitome of New Zealand travel. Then the road takes us onward, through a deep gorge, incredible crashing rivers, awe inspiring boulders of such immense size, such heart beating scenes that even in the dark I run back to feel the force of its power enter and surround my being. The West Coast opens the next day in all her lushness and green splendour, shouting life force and vitality and the power of a place living in all its rawness. Incredulous we are stopped by a stretch of roadside trees filled with a thousand cobwebs, a creative wonderland from the fairy world, gleaming and dancing in the early morning light and shouting to us: “Where have you ever seen our life before?” We hang over the side of tiny bridges and watch rivers and stone beds and shingle creeks run away down to the ocean and then turn and gasp at the intense blue skies offset with the shock of green pongas and trees reaching heavenward in greeting.
Waitaha legend had it that this was where ancient priests passed on their knowledge to their protégés, a place of archeoastronomy that aligns distant galaxies with sacred rocky outcrops. So much to discover on a New Zealand travel adventure. Filled with enthusiasm and wonder, I clamber upward and deep into the heart of this new world, a huge lexicon of stone spreading everywhere, long meters high from the ground. Entranced with photography, I’m quickly disorientated and lost above, left wondering how to get back down to earth and the real world of waiting friend and car. The late afternoon drive back out to the west coast offers russet hills and golden tussock falling down into shingle rivers, the wind at our back and shooing us back down the road from whence we came The next day our spiritual odyssey continues, through the small towns – Greymouth, Westport, Reefton, leaving the coast and crossing through middle earth again to arrive at the sparkling alpine town of Hamner, awash in fairy lights and crisp clean air. Destination spa town, it’s a healing embrace, made even stronger by Rippinvale and John and Helen Beatties mudbrick luxury homestay where the holistic mixes in equal part with comfort, warmth and intrepid outdoor pursuits. Kaikoura, land of the whale and its people, Akaroa full of charm and old century grace and a stunning seaside Maori church with a white horse grazing outside, then art galleries on the homeward journey and back to the place of our beginning, Christchurch, a city of church and square. The final morning beckons early and, with perfect synchronicity, it’s Anzac Day and the predawn marchers and bands reach me in the hotel room high above. I stand in the window in the dark with them all, old and young and murmur: “Yes ...thank you, thank you for what you did to preserve this for all of us.” This is New Zealand travel - the wonder, the joy, the heartbeat of it. * * * * * * * *
How are we so blessed that it is offers to us so freely, with such grandeur and grace and expecting nothing in return, through welcoming our spirit of appreciation?
Where do our negativities and our lack of vision and our unwillingness to be open hearted and loving with each other come from? Why do we focus on the negative and not shout the glory of who we are to the world? Basked in a spiritual wonderland, surely we are a blessed people who must surely have something grand to offer back to this earth? What has filled my eyes and touched my soul has nothing to do with interest rates or governing economic theories, nothing to do with politics or ownership or big business or gene technology or the thousand other pretty pursuits pedalled to us that can enmesh and entrance us if we are not careful guardian of where we place our energy. It is a different Kimberley who comes back home from this journey South, peeled more open, made more whole, eyes and being filled with something intangible, but solid and very real at the same time too. Knowing such beauty, shall I not say that I am truly blessed? Go back to Adventure and Mysteries |
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'Knowing such beauty, shall
I not say that I am truly blessed?' 
Another day we plunge into a hidden place, mysterious
Castle Hill, landscape of giant stone, scattered Stonehenge, what
Barry Brailsford describes as a sacred nest of stones, a place even
the Dali Lama has talked of as an important energy centre for the
earth.
How was it that I came to be so truly blessed to
be born of this land, a place so soaked in spiritual energy, where
the loving power of the land lifts us and greets us and inspires
us so freely at every turn?  |