Dear Friends and Family,
In general, New Zealand has been great. There is something about this place...Actually, that's silly. For every place worth writing about, one might say, "there is something about this place." The problem in New Zealand is one of describing extreme physical beauty. It falls flat to say that this is one of the most beautiful places in the world. That says everything but describes nothing. It is not enough to talk about waterfalls, moss covered forests and ancient fiords carved out by glaciers. That doesn't bring you there at all. I'm at a loss. I just don't feel equal to the task at the moment. (See pictures below)
I spent the first 3 weeks hiking in the Fiordland in the South Island. Ari joined me for a week and continually said things like, "This is amazing" and "Oh my God" and other related commentary. I decided after the hiking to increase my altitude somewhat for an even better view by getting licensed to paraglide.
The internet tells me that paragliding is safe. It says that there is, in a bad year, only a .2% chance of dying in a paragliding accident. It says the equipment is foolproof and that the main reasons people get killed are that they make bad decisions, fly in poor conditions, or are extreme athletes pushing the limits of what is possible.
They have clearly never met Yeves, the French guy taking the paragliding course with me. He is a danger to himself and possibly livestock and has, in just a few short days managed to, crash into a hill, overshoot a landing (barely escaping death by tree-trunk castration), failed to take off numerous times and on at least one occasion bailed out of a bad take-off within feet of a big cliff. The hairs on my neck stand up every time I watch him fly. Forgetting the trees and the cliffs for a minute, how the hell do you crash into a hill? It's huge and green and you are heading right for it...try turning!!
Despite this, I still think it is pretty safe. Not for Yeves and people like him, but for people like me who are not accident prone. I'll pause here to let everyone's laughter subside. (For those who don't know my medical history, I've been in multiple car accidents (only two of which were my fault), I've had a rare paralysis tick make a home near my crotch, I've had to get 14 stitches in my forehead after a dancing mishap, I once punctured my eardrum on a blade of grass, just to name a few.) I'm not exactly the poster-child for airborne adventure sports. If I haven't called in a while my mother still answers the phone by saying, "Oh my God, what now?"
Still and all, I've thoroughly enjoyed soaring in the clear blue skies above New Zealand. I've watched the Frenchman nearly off himself a number of times, but I haven't had any difficulties at all and I plan on keeping it that way. That nearly brings you all up to date on my activities at present.
I have less than a week to go before I head home and I'm starting to get pretty nervous. I don't have a job yet, I'm out of money and, if the news is to be believed(and we must always believe the news), you all have swine flu.
I'd like to share a recurring paranoia that might, in a round-about way, shed some light on my mindset about my return home. Whenever I decide to shave after an extended period of beard growth, I always experience a brief panic. "What if my chin has somehow become hideously disfigured? I haven't seen it in a while. Anything is possible. What if, gasp, it's not even there at all and there is just empty space below my lower lip where my chin used to be?" I usually get a grip pretty quickly, boldly shave off the hair and find that my chin is intact but perhaps a little bit pale from lack of sunlight. It's like seeing an old friend again after a long journey.
After past travels, people have wanted to know how the trip affected me. What I have learned about myself. That sort of thing. I find it difficult to look back on a trip like this and come to any conclusions at all. The trip isn't over after all and I'd rather not force it. There is usually time for reflection later, after the dust settles. I think that is just the way I like it.
My preliminary thoughts are these: I'm tired. I miss my family and friends. I'm glad I left and equally glad to be coming home. I want to live in Brooklyn, New York for the conceivable future.
And that, as they say, is that.
Thank you all for keeping me sane in the wilderness. See you soon.
Love,
Alex
The Remarkables
Milford Sound
Fiordland- Above the clouds
Mountain Pass- Milford Track
Hairy man flying!
Ciao.
