A Whole New World

Arriving in Kathmandu, I had the rush of anxiety that I always get when coming into a new country.  Especially in the 3rd World, the risk of being ripped off, scammed, and taken advantage of, was always high, if not unavoidable.  

It was late into the season, and with heavy rains coming in fast, I wasted no time in arranging a trek and a guide to the Everest Base Camp.  

After a day of multiple, frightening failed attempts at landing into the most dangerous airport in the world, we finally made it; high into the Himalayas.

A few minutes of walking around, I realized I was somewhere special.  Everything seemed so... timeless.  I was excited to start this new adventure.  

With yaks and jobke (yak and cow mix) blocking the streets, I tiptoed around giant horns, and porters carrying twice their weight on their heads.  

And it seemed I couldn't walk more than a mile without some sort of Buddhist Temple, archway, or prayer wheel greeting my path. 

I noticed incredible amounts of food being grown.  Wheat, rice, onions, radishes, potatoes, spinach, apples, and even the occasional marijuana plant.  You name it, it was being grown in the unbelievably rich soil of the Himalayas.  And each house seemed to be growing far more than they needed.

It seemed that there was so much to learn in this intricate little society.  Starting with the basics:  GET OUT OF THE WAY OF THE YAKS AND HORSES!  

They WILL run you over. 

The first word I learned was "Namaste".  Although it could be used for just about anything; Hello, Goodbye, Thank You, etc, it literally meant "I greet the divine in you" or "I see the God in you". 

I think I actually got a little misty-eyed when I first found out what it meant.  What an incredible thing to say to someone on a regular basis.  I guess if this place was anything, it was spiritual.

Intricate, pain-staking carvings were carved into anything and everything rock.  They felt they were offerings, guaranteeing that blessings were continually bestowed on their village.

Although life was simple here, and often times downright hard, most people that believed they were very fortunate.    

They felt that it was an incredible blessing to be Nepalese.  

Life was hard when you were young, but life got easier once you had kids of your own.  When you got old enough to "retire", you spent the remaining days wanting for nothing, meditating for long hours in solitude, and comtemplating your life.

I guess I was starting to comtemplate my own, and it felt good.  

Pic of the Week

I was loving Nepal.  I had picked a winner and I knew it.  I couldn't wait to go on this little adventure into the mountains.  

On the Road Again

Leaving Karamea was tough...  There were so many secrets that I had yet to discover.

It was kind of like falling in love.  Everything seemed so intricately beautiful.  And the more I looked, the more I saw.

But alas, I knew it was time.

Of course I had to stop for one more surf at Hokitika Beach.  Like always, there were classic little peaks rolling in, and not a soul in sight.  I caught myself asking "Why doesn't anyone surf here?!?!", yet one more time...

The pedal to the floor (which was actually crazy slow) I tried to make up for lost time.  But, I could never resist a good photo opp.  When I saw this hauntingly beautiful lake, I just had to pull over to see what I could get.

In a truly remote place once again, I couldn't help but dream about how nice it would be to camp here for awhile.  After all, who knows how many secrets this place held as well!!  I shook the thought and climbed back into the van.  If I wasn't careful, I'd never leave this crazy country.

Making my way back through Arthur's Pass, I couldn't help but stop and take a few shots through the window at the passing barns, filled to the brim with more character than a storybook.

Pic of the Week

Not to mention the crazy little cars that were always parked nearby.  I didn't even know these ambulances still existed!

I stopped at the top of Arthur's Pass.  It just seemed so symbolic.  Sitting at the top of the hill, my past to the right, my future to the left.  So many feelings were boiling up inside.

But I was no stranger to this symbolic place.  It never gets easier, but like something out of the "Wizard of Oz", I stepped out of my comfortable little home and into the future, and the future was Beautiful...

Winding my way down the mountains steep, scary roads, I couldn't help but be nostalgic.  What a journey this had been.

What an incredible country!  It wasn't all rainbows and butterflies.  In fact, it was easy to be downright cynical at times.  But then you'd come around a corner, and hear yourself gasp, "Oh my God..."

Miles outside of Christchurch, I pulled over for one last meat pie.  An old sheep dog was chained in the back of a truck, and it was so representative of New Zealand, in some weird way.  After all, if there was one word to describe this country, it would be "character".  This country was filled to the brim with character.

I spent the night in the driveway of my ol' friend Dave the mechanic.  The goodbyes were bittersweet.  He and his wife Jenny had been so good to me.  It was hard to explain my gratitude without being too sappy.  I flew out the next day.

I spent the next few days in Manly, catching up with old friends and stashing all kinds of stuff with anyone who was willing to store it for awhile.  I was reminded once again how priceless good friends, and good people truly are.  

My last evening I took the ferry across the bay one more time.  There's nothing like watching the sun set over the Sydney Harbor.  In a permanent stage of nostalgia, I said goodbye yet one more time.