It’s 2:38 am, Do You Know Where Your Head’s At?

I am sitting in the common room of flat 38—the place that I have called home for these last five months. This morning I took a three hour essay test, handed it to the instructor, walked out the door and finished my junior year of college. I threw all my clothes into bags, took all my pictures off the walls, decided what things to keep and what things to trash and all of the sudden my room was just like it was when I arrived—not mine. Tonight at dinner my Dad, Ryan, Tom, Lynn, Chris and I had a toast celebrating the trip that we have just shared and marking its end. After dinner, everyone who’s around came to the flat and we carried on just like we had throughout countless nights before and we reminisced on all the experiences and adventures we found; then, everyone left for the last time.

Today has been one of the biggest days of transition of my life. It marked the transition into my last year of college, the beginning of summer, the end of an incredible trip shared with people I love and the transition away from an entire semester abroad—something that I couldn’t hardly see beyond six months ago and something that affected me more greatly than I could have guessed. Tomorrow, actually in 2 hours I transition myself away from Christchurch, New Zealand via some 40 hours of traveling and back to Longmont, Colorado for the summer and then on to Bozeman, Montana a couple of months later for my last fall semester.

The obvious feelings of both sadness about leaving and excitement to be home again with the people I love, the same feelings which have found me at the commencement of other school years or summer camps or long trips—these feelings are present but they are different somehow. Perhaps they are the same but my approach to them is different, all I know is that something is different. I feel like there is an incredible amount of feelings somewhere that I can begin to let surface resulting quickly in a small pain in my stomach that forces me to push them back down and ignore them a while longer. I think that maybe it just isn’t time yet to fully reflect on my time here and fully anticipate the time ahead of me. Actually, I think that it is likely that my brain or some other important part of me would turn to a guacamole type consistency and texture if this were to happen, but I have tried.

I have had several prescribed attitudes towards this time of transition that I have tried my best to implement, but these efforts have proved fruitless. The first was an attempt to understand this transition is a ‘bittersweet’ one. The bitter obviously being an end to an incredibly unique time here in New Zealand that I won’t be getting back, and the sweet being eager anticipation for my return home where people who I miss dearly are, where summer adventures await and where the wedding of a great friend and a man who I admire unendingly is to take place in five days. The second prescribed attitude I tried to own was being more grateful for my time here than I am upset that it is ending, letting my feelings of thankfulness completely subdue my feelings of grief. The third attempted attitude was one of confidence; understanding that my time here was incredible, that my future holds more incredible adventures to be lived like this one and that I understood the nature of an abroad program and its unavoidable end when I came here, and that it is now just at hand.

I tried these different attitudes, I experimented with how they would make me feel, how they would organize what I am feeling and what the fallout would be and I am not satisfied. To label something bittersweet is too simple; it ignores both the bitter and the sweet by simply appointing the term ‘bittersweet’ to the feelings and assumes that they sort of cancel each other out, in a way. This isn’t fair to the intense bitter and the incredible sweet, both of which deserve to be sorted and acknowledged. While I am incredibly grateful for my time here—grateful for this unique experience which was provided me by the unending support of people I could never repay for what they have given me—letting gratefulness just overrule sadness ignores the issue again. And confidence certainly could describe the way I feel about my decision to come here and my understanding that this good thing is coming to an end while many other great things are just beginning, this still seems like an arrogant way to conveniently dismiss the great sadness which finds me as I finish this leg of my journey.

I tried on all these different attitudes as I described my sentiments to others about this transition and simply found myself frustrated with their inability to represent and appreciate everything that is rushing through my spinning head. Even as I confidently explained these attitudes and how they nicely package my mood, that creeping feeling in the pit of my stomach signaling something much more vested surged.

Maybe when I meet transitions it isn’t about a certain attitude or compartmentalization of moods/feelings/thoughts. I came to New Zealand eager to understand what was for me here and found none of what I expected while at the same time finding something more than expectations could have predicted. I came seeking serene landscape, a break from the ‘real world,’ adventure and excitement. What I found was people, relationships, adventure, excitement, serene landscape, the ‘real world,’—an adventure which can’t be broken down into bullet points of what I have learned and an experience which impacts cannot be easily identified or categorized. I have collided with an opportunity in a way that is certain to leave a mark, and I see it as a beautiful collision.

Leaving this place saddens me. It is not so much the physical location, though I will miss all that this incredible island has to offer, but it is this time, these people, this leg of the journey and the things that I have been afforded to learn by all of that.

In the midst of the deep sadness and slight fear that characterizes my feelings as I depart in a couple of hours are anxious feelings of excitement to be home. Excitement for the wedding of Bryce and Kate, excitement to see the friends I have held so close to my heart and that I have missed for five months, excitement to celebrate five months of incredible distance in my relationship with Brianne and discovering what two months in the same place can be like, and to return to the place which has always defined the word ‘home’ uniquely to me.

I sit in the waiting room of an incredible transition from an indescribably awesome chapter of life and another that I look forward to with eager anticipation. Though feelings and sentiments are mixed, though my head is spinning from trying to reflect on these last five months and the result is a small but persistent pain just below my diaphragm, I am struck by the goodness of past, present and future, and surely can appreciate the beauty of transitions…especially this one.

One Last Go

I haven't blogged in a while and for good reason; I have been traveling around this island one last time accompanied by my Dad, my brother, my Aunt Lynn, Chris and Taylor. We are on the last leg of the classic South Island loop, which now after 5 months has many places that are dear to me. I have gotten to experience things once more, to remember the last time(s) I was there and show this place that I have come to love to people I love. It has been a good way to go out.

I am now sitting at the Te Nikau Lodge in Punakaiki--my new favorite place that I have stayed. These lodges are nestled deep in the rain forest of Paparoa National Park and one of the most beautiful coves I have seen yet is a 5 minute walk away. I am going to go down there in a little while to watch the sunset.

Tomorrow we drive back to Christchurch, ending our loop and ending my last road trip here in New Zealand. I take a test on Monday, pack, say goodbye and then leave Tuesday. I haven't hardly had a second to think for the past couple of weeks--my energy has been invested into traveling and the people who came to visit--but I am looking forward to a 14 hour plane ride (sick, I know) and some time to reflect on and remember these last 5 months.

I will be home soon.

I Can't Believe This was 2 Weeks Ago

Tuesday, May 22nd:

Today would be Brianne’s last full day here. It is often hard not let the fact that someone is leaving affect the last moments that you have with them, but we did our best.

Brianne and I took a trip out to Sumner Beach, just 20 minutes east of Christchurch, and cruised along its coast on a nice fall day. Sumner beach is one of the most popular beaches in the summer time, but on this fall day we had a good portion of it to ourselves. From the beach we headed into the town of Sumner—a small town that is a cross between a beach bum town and a tourist center. We had New Zealand’s famous fish and chips and then continued up to the port hills.


We had intended to do a little bit of rock climbing, but on arrival a cold wind was blowing across the crag and we thought better. Instead, we went to New Brighton, another beach town, and had some coffee to warm up. Hanging out at the coffee shop was awesome, it was very nice to just chill after 10 days of strait traveling and activity.

After coffee we decided to hit up the local thrift store to see if any treasures awaited us. For me it was a pair of hot pink Nike running shorts which barely covered up and a white shirt with neon green collar and this on the pocket: For Brianne it was a ¾ length light brown silky coat with fur coated neck and arm holes to be worn with leggings and Ugg boots…We’ll just have to show you some time.

That night Brianne and I had decided to make dinner for my flatmates. We prepared white wine and garlic cream sauce mussels served over pasta with some amazing garlic bread and white wine to compliment. Yeah, I know what your thinking, sounds fancy. And besides the state of our kitchen and appliances, it was. It was a perfect way to celebrate Brianne’s time here and to have everyone together once more. We spent the rest of the evening laughing, telling stories, getting a little bit sick, getting better again and making the most of our few last hours together.

Wednesday, May 23rd:

Today was the day which we had been trying our best not to think about. We had succeeded for the most part and yet it still came. We grabbed coffee and breakfast together one last time and then shuffled down to the airport.


Goodbyes are never easy, and Brianne and I have had our fair share. A couple weeks prior Chris and I had been waiting for Brianne in the airport when Chris commented on just how much of our relationship has been in airports. I think that I have said goodbye to Brianne in airports some seven times in the last nine months and they don’t get much easier with practice.

This goodbye was particularly hard. It marked the end of something that I had been dreaming about ever since I knew I was coming abroad to New Zealand. It marked the end of a grand adventure. It marked the end of a time that we would never have back.

I feel like this has been the case with a lot of Brianne and mine’s time together. It is more than incredible but there is always that goodbye at the end. It is inevitable. There is no avoiding it or trying to make it easier. It has sort of become standard for us, for our relationship which has spanned countries and continents.

Still, I am learning to cling to hope rather than sink in disappointment. I am learning that as grand adventures end new ones begin. Perhaps not immediately, but as life moves forward we are provided more chances for adventure and these experiences create memories of their own.

Yes, it was hard to say goodbye. Really hard. But as hard as it was it can’t compare to the gratefulness I feel for having been giving an opportunity to spend those weeks together, nor can it compare to the excitement I have for the journey ahead.

Darkened Night Skies

Sunday, May 20th:

Chris had texted our favorite surrogate Aunti Sue and she insisted they we come to their house on the Marlborough Sounds. The Marlborough sounds sweep across the northeast corner of the South Island and offer spectacular views for tourists and locals as well as home to seals and even whales. They are a popular destination for sea kayakers and hikers.

We feasted once more, this time on eggs, kumara potatoes, ham, mushrooms, onions, capsicum, Swedish pancakes and apple juice. We were so excited to have a full, nice kitchen to use that we couldn’t help ourselves. After our last smorgasbord at the house in Nelson we cleaned up after ourselves as best we could, loaded all of our bags in the nearly bottomed-out Vista and headed northeast for Havelock.

We arrived at their house after only a little more than an hour. We didn’t know what to expect, but we certainly could not have expected what we got. Their house was a mere toss of a rock from the sounds. From their driveway you could see layers upon layers of mountains and hills coming up out of the ocean water. They had a goat and chickens. When we arrived Sue was chatting with one of her friends whose kids were running around with Sue’s while Kip was out back working to erect their new shed. It was a very typical, and somehow therefore pleasant, farm scene.

We immediately noticed strong and sweet smells perfuming the house and Sue informed us that she had been baking—muffins for this afternoon, an apple pie for desert tonight and a couple of chocolate cakes for us to take on our trip back. We were being spoiled and enjoying it to the fullest.

That afternoon we had a friendly in the backyard with little Kip (their son) and Kendall (their daughter) who were quite good soccer players. It was raining and we were having a ball sliding and diving and getting all wet on an incredible Sunday afternoon. At one point the clouds cleared and a ray of sunlight penetrated right down to the sounds. It was like a hole had been punched in the clouds and the brilliance of the heavens was shining through to the water below. We all stopped, well all of us who didn’t live there, and wondered how incredible it must be to live there.

That night, after dinner and after we had a soak in their hot tub, we played our third and final game of spades. The series had been tied up, 1-1, and this game was for all the glory. Somehow, through some sort of miracle or gap in the space-time continuum, Chris and I managed to lay a sound beating on Brianne and Annika. I won’t go as far as mentioning the actual score because most of you reading this probably wouldn’t know what it meant anyways, but lets just say it was a fairly good trouncing.

Monday, May 21st:

We took our sweet time getting out of bed that morning and even managed to cook another fairly good breakfast before we had to say goodbye to all the amazing friends we had made and to the luxurious weekend we had just had because of their hospitality. Kip was the only one left in the morning—the others had gone back to their house in Nelson—and we did our best to show our appreciation and exchanged phone numbers and emails.

A few short hours later we arrived in Kaikora. Kaikora is only a couple of hours, at the most, from Christchurch but Chris and I had still never been. We had heard of peoples grand adventures their and the beautiful coastline scenery cut by massive peaks that we would find.

After we had had a quick lunch we decided to go for a walk on the Kaikora Peninsula. It was already 4 pm so we hurried to the trail head and started walking along the rocky shore. On the peninsula we saw tidal pools, teeming with life that seemed to flow back and forth even without the steady current of the ocean, seal colonies and rock formations which seemed out of place for a beach, or anywhere for that matter. We stopped to devour the cake Sue had so graciously baked for us near the water where we could watch the waves come crashing in over the rocks to the sound of seal colonies barking.

We walked back along the ridge above the immediate shoreline to get some better views of the peninsula. At the end of the track there was an observation station where we decided to stop and watch the sunset at. It started off averagely, the sky gently going from blue to a faint orange. Then, all of the sudden, like God had decided to pay attention to this sunset, it exploded into vibrant, brilliant color. To the west was dark orange and red cut by the mountains and to the east hues of purple which transformed the ocean into swirling color. It was one of the more magnificent sunsets that I had ever seen.

The rest of our night consisted of Brianne driving back to Christchurch, Sushi and another game of Spades. Brianne and I managed to rally late, very late, and squeak out a come from behind victory much to the disgust of Annika and Chris. It was a good day.