The Rose in the Lily Pond

Having the time of my life at my leaving party in 2008 with my family and friends before I head overseas for a year and a half  I remember the hustle and bustle of the check in queue, the different languages soaring through the Auckland International Airport terminal, the greasy food at the food court, but most of all, I remember my Mum. She looked at me adoringly, her 22 year old child about to board a plane to New York with no return ticket. What must it be like for her? To say goodbye to me, her only daughter who is travelling alone - not knowing when she will see me again, and not knowing whether I will be safe. She puts on a brave face. I’m the one who’s a pack of nerves. I can’t concentrate on enjoying my last few moments with my Mum. I’m on auto-pilot only semi hearing Mum’s questions about money belts and boarding passes.  “You’ve got to go Rosie Dose.” She uses my pet name. I feel as small as a five year old and not at all ready to face the worl...

Today I handed in my notice at the Kaipara Lifestyler. I have bought a round-the-world plane ticket departing late September with my boyfriend - who will be known from here on out as Ryan Gosling, Ry for short, we’re pretty close. Don’t get me wrong – I have, despite my uncertainties, enjoyed my stay in sleepy Dargaville but it’s time for me to move on. The pull of an adventure overseas and doing something different and new everyday is too strong. The rough plan is, and I have no doubt that things will go horribly wrong or incredibly right and we will have to change our route, a week in Rarotonga celebrating my Nana’s 80 th birthday, teaching English in Asia, backpacking through India, a brief stopover in Europe and soaking up the language in South America – one of my lifelong dreams is to be fluent in Spanish – not to mention attending the Football World Cup in Brazil! It’s not my first trip away from the New Zealand nest. When I was 22 I explored USA, Canada, a ...

I stumbled across an article on one of my facebook binges which said the first step to achieving authentic happiness is writing a gratitude letter. I can’t think of a better subject than my mother – after all, I wouldn’t be here without you and Dad and your love and support - and you read this blog without fail. Dear Mum, I think you are pretty cool. At 59 you can still do a hand stand, you want to travel the world (again), and you are way fitter than me. I have you to thank for instilling a sense of adventure. When I was little you used to tell me about your voyages as a little girl travelling by boat to and from New Zealand and England – you showed me pictures of what you looked like when you were my age and I thought you looked so pretty (and I still do). Even though you worked when we were growing up, you found time to do all sorts of creative things with us like make little characters out of felt and build elaborate places out of play dough. You gave us a...

Lake Waikaremona - Untouched and rugged beauty that NZ does so well.  Lake Waikaremona in the Te Urewera National Park is one of those special places remote and unharmed by humans. The dense bush and clear water make it easy to imagine what the world was like before mankind occupied it bringing with us all our clutter and junk. It’s one of the most beautiful areas of New Zealand that I’ve seen, yet I only heard about it around a month ago when my boyfriend suggested we do a 46km four day hike. The drive in slowly eased us into the isolated location. We drove on windy gravel roads for an hour and a half passing tiny backwaters where the general store was boarded up and the gas pumps had long gone dry. Cars were burnt out and left rusting on front lawns, and horses, pigs and cows which appeared to be wild wandered the roads, a weary obstacle when already risking turning a narrow blind corner. We passed the odd camper van or speeding local, but mainly we were on our ...

1. Is it just me, or do cows look like they are wearing tuxedos? "Martini - shaken not stirred." 2. Hay bales or alien eggs? 3. Interesting plants in the country... they remind me of something but I can't quite arouse the word... 4. Traffic. 5. The "shopping area" in Te Kopuru consist of one shop, it may live up to it's name, "the really good shop" but it's hardly an area....

The guard clips my ticket with a look of concern. I smile bravely back in return trying to reassure him and myself that  I am a confident independent traveller half way through a 23-hour bus ride from Boston to South Carolina and I’m riding the greyhound with my fellow, too-poor-to-fly, passengers. It was only later that I discovered many Greyhound passengers catch it because they are criminals who are on the 'no fly' lists.  I board the bus and am greeted by a gangster. He looks like a drug dealer from ‘The Wire’ with all the frills. Five sizes too big jeans, baggy shirt, gold chain and bandana intact. He calls me down to a spare seat at the back of the bus. No thanks. I grab a seat close to the front. Rattled, I eaves drop, “Cuantos hijos tiene?” a Latino man asks a woman with a baby how many children she has, and my muscles slump into the chair, my heavy eyes close. I am just another immigrant riding the bus.  The lights shut off. I feel a bo...

Climbed Tokatoka peak, an icon in Dargaville. I have been living in Dargaville now for six months, SIX MONTHS! I can’t believe it. Here’s five things this not so sleepy town has shown this former city girl: Where food comes from: The moo cows down the road I walk - they always stare at me as if they are plotting a take over... We killed the brown cow the other day. When I say “we” I mean the butcher who does home kills but I was certainly an accomplice. I have watched her grow while I have been living here – I almost told her to slow down as she chomped away at the grass so she got to live longer. Grant and Cherry, who I live with, rear cattle and now there are three cows left in their paddock wondering where their mate went... Yes it’s sad – but if you eat meat then an animal has to die, that’s the reality of it. Mixing with people you wouldn’t normally is refreshing: A 24 year old single mother of two young boys has befriended me at work. My close fr...