Epilogue: The day my life changed forever in a toilet.

It had only been twenty seconds when I glanced down. How could I have known what I was about to see? But I was already shaking. And then, there they were. Two bold, blazing blue lines screaming back at me. My feet sunk into the grubby floor. Disinfectant and someone else’s urine raged in my nostrils. Surely I was being lied to. The plastic wasn’t telling the truth, it couldn’t be. Could it? 

I got back in the van. My hand barely able to open the door. Ollie looked at me, his face long, empty and grey; it must have been projecting mine. 

‘What did it say?’

‘I’m pregnant.’ The words flew from my mouth as if I was throwing them up. I felt sick. I had imagined this moment endlessly, over and over for the last three years. Every time four weeks of crossed fingers passed. Every time Ollie and I had held each other and begged for a child. Every time a family passed me in the street. And every time I had imagined it, it had been nothing like this. There was no speech, no loving words, no tears of happiness, no clutching each other and squealing. Nothing. Only Ollie managed the tinniest of disbelieving smiles as he lent across and gave me a peck on the cheek I didn’t feel. Nothing. Because this wasn’t what I had planned. This wasn’t the right time, the place or even the bloody continent. Not for this. Not now. 

Rain splashed down over the window screen as grey clouds and a storm rolled in. The weather really can reflect ones mood. I don’t know how long we sat there, in the car park to Geraldine’s public toilets (Who names a town Geraldine?!), but it didn’t feel long enough. In fact at that point I never wanted to move again. I wanted to be frozen in time. Actually I wanted to go back. Go back to half an hour before when we purchased the test to ‘rule out the possibility’, go back, go back. I was in shock. We both were. There was no way we could have imagined this would happen. For three years there had never been anything so what was suddenly so different now? And why now? Why when we were thousands of miles away from home had this happened? I began to cry. And I couldn’t stop. Up until now those two lines were all I’d ever wanted, since the day I married Ollie. Yet now I had them I wasn’t happy at all. What the hell were we going to do now?

* * *

The drive up to the foot of Mount Cook had of course been a glorious one. Back in the mountains and spectacular scenery we had grown accustomed to was a wonderful relief. After a brief look round the visitor’s centre grabbing a bit of knowledge, we set off for a walk through the foothills and mini glaciers. Just as we set off we heard huge cracking and crashes that echoed around us. Scrambling up a mound of rocks we looked up to see snow tumbling down a far off mountain. We were witnessing an avalanche! I’ve always wanted to see one ever since I saw that moment in the film ‘Seven Brides for Seven Brothers’!! Mount cook was surrounded by a thick whirl of cloud but we imagined it to be extremely high and very pointed. Well I did anyway...

I enjoyed the trek through the rocks following the mini streams of melted snow and ice but my mind was mostly elsewhere. Something didn’t feel quite right. I couldn’t make it out but something in me just felt off. I was having trouble keeping up with Ollie because my balance was all over the place and my mind constantly dived off into obscurity so I had trouble concentrating. Deciding it must be a little apprehension about the next leg of our trip I tried to focus on being excited for Australia and send out positive thoughts that we would find a job and wouldn’t run out of money.

That evening we drove up to lake Tekapo and parked up at the edge of the lake for the night. We were in the middle of nowhere, it was pitch black and I didn’t get much sleep. For some reason I kept imaging we would be eaten by wolves. Where the wolves were going to come from I have no idea! In the morning we found a great little cafe that served amazing breakfasts and not unusually for New Zealand, fantastic coffee. We were very much looking forward to spending the day at Tekapo hot springs and having a bit of a relax. 

There was a small ice rink at the springs and we spent the first hour skating. Well it was mainly me trying to pull Ollie over while he stumbled around. He is not the best ice skater I’ve ever known, he looks so awkward! The springs were beautifully hot and we stayed in them for ages. However once again I had this nagging feeling and didn’t like spending too much time in the very hot water. This made no sense as usually I love it the most. Again, something just didn’t feel right. After a random encounter with a guy filming an online t.v show that promotes New Zealand and agreeing to be in part of his film, we had some lunch and I drank three bottles of ginger beer. Over the last few days I had fostered quite an obsession for that particular fizzy drink. That evening we camped once more by the enormous lake. Surrounded by mountains it was a magnificent mass of water that could quite easily steal your gaze for hours. As we sat playing yet another game of cards we didn’t know yet, but the next day, our lives were going to change forever.

* * *

Our last weekend in New Zealand was the perfect way to say goodbye to the astounding country that had been our home for so many months now. Nirvisha flew down to see us and we spent a couple of days up in Kaikoura, seal watching, eating, and reminiscing about all the fun the three of us had had. Saying goodbye to her at the airport was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. In such a short time we had become so close and I really had no idea how I would go without being able to see her. We told her about the little life that had just started to grow and although obviously surprised, she was of course delighted. A few months before I had spilt my heart and told her how much I would love a child so she understood immediately how much this was going to mean to Ollie and me.

Four days after we discovered I was pregnant, Ollie and I boarded a plane home. Still in shock and with a little disbelief we made the long journey home. Our travels had come to such an abrupt end that there was no time yet to be sad or to acknowledge what we were going to miss out on, our minds now fixed firmly on the future with curious excitement as to what was about to happen. We had been away from home for nine months. What a difference that time can make!

* * *

On 25th April 2013, Reuben Oliver was born. A magnificent chunky little miracle that Ollie and I had created. To us he was an amazing surprise and yet perhaps someone had been planning this all along. You see, whilst we were traveling, Ollie and I had once agreed that we would honestly give up everything if only we could have a child. And it would appear that prayer was answered...

7/6/13

Where ever she goes she'll always smell chocolate...

With another ‘busy day of places we had seen on the map and decided to visit’ ahead of us, we set off early and had soon reached our first stop. Jack’s Blowhole. O.k. so we only wanted to go there because we thought it would be funny to take a picture of the name for my brother but still it might be worth a look! The blowhole was cut off from the sea and 200m inland. A sharp drop down and not very wide the water lurks below. I’m guessing that at high tide it spits a bit but as Ollie and I never catch blow holes at the appropriate time, nothing dramatic was going on.

By now we were not too far from Dunedin so we decided to head straight for ‘the biggest city in Otago’ and immerse ourselves in the most people we would have been surrounded by since Wellington! We arrived to a murky rainy city that is one of those places that probably doesn’t look too wonderful in the sun anyway but really looks bad in the rain. The mish mash of architecture from Edwardian to occasional Art Deco to industrial steel, urgh, was not  really to my taste and although the Cathedral was good looking enough, I have to say it, the city itself didn’t get me going much. And if you’re thinking ‘but no city looks great’ then I would direct you to Auckland or Boston to name just two cities that I find very attractive. But to give Dunedin some credit, it is one of the oldest areas in New Zealand, has played a vital role in the country’s history and does boast some of the oldest buildings. So fair play to it!

There is another thing Dunedin has that no other town or city in New Zealand has, and that is a castle. Incidentally although everywhere in the city wants to sell you Scottish food, tartan or bagpipe playing teddy bears, we never did find out exactly what the Scottish roots of the place were. But I’m guessing it had something to do with the first people to arrive. So back to the castle. As Ollie and I drove up a small road through foggy hills that felt very Scottish indeed, we both questioned there being a Castle in New Zealand at all. Because as far as our ‘extensive’ history knowledge went, New Zealand wasn’t found by the British until the mid 1800’s and we were pretty damn sure ‘Castling times’ were long over by then. And by ‘Castling times’ I mean the century in which Castles found their prominence. So why on earth was a castle built? What was its purpose? And in general, just why full stop. 

And we were about to find out. Unable to catch a glimpse of the stone building hidden within a shadowy glen (see what I did there) of pine trees and mist we rolled up to the main gate. At first glance the entry price looked to be $7 and I thought that was o.k. Second glance told us it was $27 and both Ollie and I were in disbelief at that ridiculous price! And they had been so cunning about it too those castle keepers. They had put the pay booth way up the drive so you couldn’t even drive in see the castle do a ‘Uie’ and leave. Oh no. If you wanted to see New Zealand’s only ruddy castle you had to pay, just for the mere sight of it. To that Ollie and I spat a giant ‘Yeah right’ and turned our van around. With heckles of ‘What d’you need a castle for anyway’, ‘It wasn’t even built in real castling times’ and ‘We’ve got loads of REAL ones in England so we don’t need yours’ we triumphantly sped away. It was quite a patriotic moment in the van as we celebrated all the British Castles we could think of and the fact that they had been used properly. Later on I read that Lanarch Castle had been built by some Scot as a present for his wife. It only took three years to build and it’s not even that big. So New Zealand you can keep your ‘trophy castle’ ‘cos we got the real deal back home!

After the castle debacle we decided to go in search of some more nature because that had never let us down. There was an Albatross centre at the end of the peninsular beyond Dunedin. Named the Otago Peninsular, it is a pretty long one and takes ages to drive along but the road runs right along the water so it’s quite nice. After forty minutes we eventually got up the last hill and parked outside the centre. I knew we wouldn’t see an Albatross but I did want to learn more about those massive birds. But the centre was closed. And not just for the day but for the last three months and until October. And no one thought to put a ‘closed sticker’ over the sign post forty minutes back there. Well done. And to make things worse, the cliff walk that’s also sign posted was shut off too due to something or other and when we tried not to feel too annoyed and drive up to the little cafe and wildlife tour place a bit further up...that was closed too! What a gigantic waste of time and fuel! Ollie was more than a little frustrated and so was I. So far our day had revolved around pathetic castles and pointless driving.

Determined not to let our day be entirely wasted we drove alllll the way back round to Dunedin and decided to get an early night (it was now almost dark) so that we could fit lots of fun things in the following day to make up for the rainy, soggy rubbish one. As we were following a lorry round a bend, two of its tires suddenly flew off and went bouncing down the road. One smacked into a street lamp with such force that it smashed the light which came crashing to the ground. The other tyre sped across the road and it was so lucky no other cars were coming because that tyre would have taken them out. For something so big and heavy those tires could move! And that was about the most exhilarating moment of our day!

Thinking our disappointing day was at an end we parked up at a ‘tree and a bench’ and made dinner. But then loads of cars started turning up and we realised we must have stopped in the main ‘smoke a quiet joint spot’ and not wanting to get mistaken for being part of that by a Policeman we got back in the front and drove off. What followed was two hours of driving, getting lost, bad map reading by Amy, shouting at the sat nav, shouting at the dark, shouting at cars, the campsite we headed for not existing and finally finding a lay-by in front of someone’s house about 20Km out of Dunedin that we gave up and stopped in. By the time we got into bed neither of us were in a good mood and were both desperate for the day to be over. Tired and grumpy we fell asleep.

* * *

Awake in the dark and driving away before any angry locals spotted where we had spent the night, Ollie and I headed back to Dunedin. After the day before we were both in need of something nice to cheer us up and both agreed that breakfast would probably be it. Sitting in a cafe waiting for our food we both looked a lot happier. Ollie had the proverbial cooked breakfast and I had blueberry pancakes with tons of maple syrup and a fruit salad hidden in the middle. And it was all very yummy! Instantly refreshed and ready for the day, we drove over to the Railway Station where a Farmer’s Market is held every Saturday morning. Absolute suckers for a market we both agreed to try and not spend too much. But then we saw a guy selling beer and cider from an organic brewery and we smelled the fresh bread just down the way and saw how cheap apples were and then a man shouted at us from a cheese stand.

‘You two, over here!’. It would have been rude to ignore him. For the next two minutes this guy shoved huge bits of different cheeses into our mouths and completely cheesed us out, which was impressive! I wasn’t a massive fan of his style of cheeses but the Blue was tasty. There was one cheese he said was named after his mother but unfortunately I didn’t realise and scoffed ‘Urgh I don’t like this one’ before Ollie shoved me in the back and I looked up to see the man looking s bit hurt and hurriedly tasting it to prove it was o.k. Oopsie! Never insult a man’s Mum or his cheese. Well done Amy. Anyway we bought a chunk (Not of the Ruby) and Ollie rushed us away.

Just across from the market was an old brick factory building with Cadburys written in bright purple on the side. Dunedin is home to the first of the Southern Hemisphere’s Cadbury’s factories. So naturally I insisted we paid a visit. Neither of us have had a chance to go to the one in Birmingham yet so this was like a pre visit. The factory is only small and although all the chocolate used to be produced and distributed from there, Australia now makes some of it too. A nice old lady in purple dungarees took us on a tour and although we couldn’t go onto the factory floor as it was closed on Saturdays (boo), she was full of history, free samples and random facts. In one room we got a little pill cup full of liquid chocolate to eat and then she gave us another one! It was surprisingly filling even for me but I was impressed we got two when usually on a tour of something you only get miniscule tasters. The best part though was going inside a giant silo and seeing a gigantic chocolate waterfall come to deafening life before our eyes. Awesomeness!

Next we walked across the city to the Speight’s beer site and signed up for a tour. Speight’s was formed by three guys, a Yorkshireman, a Scot and a guy from Devon, who set up the first brewery that became the biggest in New Zealand. James Speight, who the company was named after, was from Wakefield and ‘quite the character’ as people used to say. Our guide was the great grandson of the Devonshire man and probably in his late sixties himself. He was a fantastic guy who was so passionate about the company and loved telling us all the stories and jokes. Workers of the brewery did and still do get free beer all shift but they get sacked if they’re ever caught drunk and unable to carry on work! At the end of the tour we went into a tiny bar and got to pour our own glasses. We had about half an hour to chat in the bar and during that time we were allowed to refill our glasses with any of the five varieties as much as we wanted! Ollie was very over excited about that!

Our day in Dunedin had been much more of a success at our second attempt and we left the city feeling warm (the beer) and happy, but glad to be back in the wilderness. Up the coast are the Moeraki boulders. Large spherical rocks that can be found just sitting on the beach and in the sea. They look like malteasers. Formed in some complicated way under ground (all geology stuff) and then gradually revealed through the surrounding rocks being worn away, these rocks look pretty weird. It’s not often you see such a smooth round rock that is not manmade! The rain was back again as we began our drive north and to Mount Cook, the highest mountain in New Zealand. Back into the land of mountains, lakes and wow we go...

3/8/12

Southland: A let down?

After the dramatic landscape of the west coast, entering The Southlands was always going to be a bit of a change for us but it hit me harder than I had anticipated. Suddenly the peaks, forests and snow were gone and in their place was just miles and miles of farm land. And sheep. So many sheep. People always joke about New Zealand being full of sheep but up until then Ollie and I had seen hardly any. Now though after a few days in the Southlands we have seen enough to keep us going for a good while! I’m not saying the landscape wasn’t picturesque, it was. The rugged coastal beaches, the rough seas, the trees bent backwards from the wind and the lolloping green hills were all pleasant enough but they weren’t...well they weren’t the Southern Alps! And as we drove into the evening we were both a little quiet. There can never be disappointment when one is travelling just a silent acknowledgment that after what we’d had the privilege to witness, anything else might not ever seem quite so spectacular again. So we agreed to leave the West in the West and move on to accepting and enjoying our new surroundings. Not forgetting, just packing our memories before they turned into longings. We have far too much still to see of the world before we start to long for particular parts of it again.

That night we stayed next to a gusty beach and fell asleep to the crashing waves. At sunrise we took a walk across the sand and got the smell of salt tangled in our hair. We had planned to visit a nearby lighthouse and find the most southern point of the island so that we would have then travelled the entire length of New Zealand. A pretty cool achievement! The Lighthouse had been erected after a terrible ship wreck on the rocks nearby that had killed over 100 passengers as they were travelling to Melbourne from perhaps Dunedin although I can’t remember exactly. Anyway after the tragedy, locals petitioned to get the lighthouse built so that no more lives would have to be lost. Just down the beach was a huge flock of sea gulls mooching about and as we got closer to see what they were doing (obviously Ollie was the most interested), the horrific smell of rotting fish struck from nowhere and hardly able to breath we had to move away. It was literally the strongest strain of that stink I’ve ever known. It took over every part of us so that I kept ‘re-smelling’ it for ages after. I was so glad we didn’t have a dog with us that would have wanted to go and roll about in it! I liked the Oyster Catchers with their long bright orange beaks that looked very cool with their jet black feathers. I wasn’t too fussed with the sea gulls ‘cos they’re just annoying where ever you are! 

We left the smell and continued down to Slope Point. This is where the south tip can be found and there is a signpost to mark the area. Far less of a good looking place than Cape Regina but just as windy! In fact the whole of the south coast is just a massive place of wind! We were blown back across the fields just as fast as we had arrived and were soon back in the van and heading to our next ‘place of interest’!

One of only three accessible in the world, the Petrified Forest (arghhhhhh) along the coast from Invercargill is a great piece of geology. Formed when a forest by the sea was flooded by ash from a nearby erupting volcano, the trees were buried and in only a month, petrified (arghhhh). Petrified Forests (arghhhh) are so rare because to be created, petrification of wood needs to happen in a very short and fast period of no more than around thirty days. Minerals from the ash fill up the trees and replace the wood particles so that although we could see what looked like wooden tree trunks, they were in fact fossils of them. The tide was in but we could see lots of tree stumps and planks lying about the rocks and it was quite an odd place. What looked to be wood would just appear out of a rock face and hollow tree stumps sat up in the sea looking like burst acne. 

Although Ollie and I found the Petrified Forest (arghhhh) ever so interesting we did spend most of the time screaming every time one of us said Petrified Forest (arghhhh) and both giggling like idiots constantly. My consoling thought however was that if my Dad had been with us he would have done exactly the same!

Our final visit of the day was to a waterfall called Mclennan Falls. A short walk up a very slippery rock path through the woods brought us to the basin of the pretty falls. It was an unimposing place but worth a look. What struck me was how dirty the water looked. It was so brown and nothing like the glacial rivers and lakes we had been drooling at a few days earlier. Ollie assured me it was algae causing the discoloration and not dirty water but as the browny yellow spilled over the rocks it washed a lot of the beauty away with it. 

Driving to find a place to sleep, I noticed ‘Niagara Falls’ written on our map and utterly intrigued we found our way to it. Hilariously we got out the car by a muddy bank to find a sign that read ‘Niagara Falls’ and behind it was the tiniest drop in the river where the water fell about five centimeters off a big smooth rock. According to the information, some guy had thought it would be really funny to name that place ‘Niagara Falls’ back in the late 1800’s. The river had been the main supply route for wool, but to me this seemed the equivalent of transporting goods in the local brook!  Yeah. Really funny. So glad we went 20Km out of our way funny. But I suppose it’s the kind of thing I’d do!

1/8/12

Sound or Fiord? What's the difference?

The drive to Milford Sound is a long one and a one way route so as you make your way through the forests you hope that what’s at the end is worth the 200Km round trip. Along the way you can’t just park up for the night, there are designated campsites dotted along the road. They are supposed to cost $6 per person, a night, but when all that there is,is a toilet that hasn’t been cleaned since it was first erected and a mossy patch of gravel it’s hard to part with your money. We decided to pretend we were on ‘Four in a Bed’ (A great Channel 4 afternoon show for those not in the know!) because on that program B&B owners judge other owners by paying them what they think a night in their establishment is worth. So we chose to pay just $6. And perhaps we would have a felt a little guilty but we couldn’t even use the toilet so really $6 was pretty good considering we were paying for the privilege of nothing! It was super windy and rain battered against the van. A branch even fell onto the roof in the middle of the night and made Ollie panic! I was just hoping the weather would clear up for our trip up the fiord in the morning. I’d seen the pictures and knew it would be a complete let down if our cruise was through heaps of cloud and drizzle that covered everything. 

Unfortunately the bad weather was still hanging around when we woke and our journey to Milford was a foggy, twisting mystery drive. At one point we did have to go through a tunnel that was literally just a roughly carved hole through a huge mountain and there weren’t even any lights. It was too scary to even play the ‘holding your breath’ game. But eventually we reached the fiord and by then the rain had stopped and the cloud had thankfully begun to lift. We were early, so grabbing a coffee, we took our time walking down to the little dock. Cruises on Milford Sound can usually cost up to $100 each but due to my amazing internet skills, I had got our tickets for just $20 each. Lurking at the back of my mind was the idea that the grey was the price we were paying for our lucky tickets.  We soon learned however that although all the postcards and posters show the fiord set against a blazing blue sky, in reality it rains two out of three days every week and has the highest rainfall for the whole of New Zealand. So our day’s weather was actually distinctly normal!

Out on to the deck we set off as the Captain said ‘Hi’ and gave us a few details to start us off. He told us what we already knew, that Milford Sound is not a sound but a fiord. Sounds are formed by rivers but fiords are formed by glaciers and the inlets around these parts are glacial hence this part of the country is known as The Fiordlands. So why they didn’t change it to Milford Fiord when they realised, I have no idea! It is impossible to take in what you are seeing as you pass up the river. Almighty forest covered rocks rising from the water to tower above you. No flats, just continuous peaks of mini mountains lining the path out to sea. Absorbing their height is too difficult. They are hundreds of meters high and yet they don’t seem it. One I remember, nicknamed the Crouching Lion (it seriously looked like that too!), was just over 600m high and the equivalent of over two Empire State Buildings on top of each other. I just couldn’t imagine that! 

Waterfalls appeared at random points and gushed into the water below. They were ridiculously high too but like I said, for some reason it was really hard to get a gauge on anything’s height. Maybe because everything was so massive it all just overcrowded my mind into confusion. The sky was murky but it didn’t take away any of the beauty. O.k. so the pictures won’t be spectacular but what we saw certainly was and that’s all that matters. Milford Sound is one of those places, like the Grand Canyon, that is so beyond all words and comprehension that in order to really understand you have to see it for yourself. It is practically make believe. 

At one point the other guy standing near us squealed at Ollie in a childish excitement and then Ollie did exactly the same to me. Around the stern of the boat we could see four or five dolphins playing in our wake and doing all sorts of jumps and flips, as if they were used to showing off. It was a dream come true for me as I’m sure it would be for many. And even better they were Bottlenose Dolphins. These had been my favourite type when I was about eleven and obsessed with all things Dolphin! Suddenly our surroundings were shunted into less importance as we giggled and pointed at our new friends. Ollie ran to tell the Captain so he could let everyone else know and soon the outer decks filled with cameras. The dolphins stayed with us all the way out to sea until they dramatically vanished. They’re only around once or twice a week so we were pretty lucky to see them.

As we journeyed back, the wind picked up to the point where I could barely stand. Ollie had to hold on to me tight so I didn’t fly over the side. Obviously not everyone was having quite the same difficulty as me but I’m not the most stable on my feet even in normal circumstances. Seals were sleeping on the rocks beneath the largest waterfall and some of the pups were so tiny. They’re much smaller seals than I’ve seen at home before. Nowhere near as big as the one that almost capsized our boat in Falmouth Harbour one time! I could had stayed and pottered about the waters all day but our cruise finally came to an end and we had to leave that very remarkable place. I’ve already said in a previous blog about the mountains feeling alive and I felt that even more whilst floating through the fiord. I think the silence and extreme naturalness is the reason. Nothing but nature can survive in The Fiordlands and it’s only the mountains that know the true secrets of that amazing place. That’s the way it always has been and hopefully, always will be.

31/7/12