Aotearoa Amore: Wanaka and thoughts on travel

I am currently in Wanaka. My bad.

For some reason, I was certain that I could get from Wanaka to Mt Cook. I triple checked, I was 100% sure that the InterCity Coachline went straight from here to where I wanted to be. Too bad the internet lied to me. This means I have to spend most of tomorrow in Wanaka, then drive to Queenstown, spend the night there, then take the bus to Mt Cook the next day.

Though I had been looking forward to Mt Cook more than anything, I feel OK with this new development. I think this is because I have a superior philosophy on travel. People say that good travelers don’t sweat the small stuff and aren’t too fussed about arriving to their destination. I take this one step further. For the past two weeks, my mantra has been this: If I don’t die on this trip, then it will have been a success. So far I’ve been doing a pretty good job.

This travel tagline works wonders when my plans go wrong. Every time I end up somewhere I didn’t mean to be or get stranded an extra night, I ask myself, am I dying? The answer is usually no.

For now, I am nearly pleased that I ended up in Wanaka even though I apparently have no good reason to be here. I’m surrounded by beautiful yellow-tinted mountains and sunshine, which is a welcome change from the rainforest where I’d been. The town is set on a mass of water that has achieved a much higher standard of size and beauty than I usually expect from lakes. After dinner I walk across a park to reach the shore, the cold wind from the lake whipping my hair into a frenzy. The mountains are giant and hang leisurely on all sides of my vision. I feel like I could drink them up just like a milkshake. Chilly and delicious.

I climb up a willow tree growing on the pebbled beach. From there I can look across the lake through the branches and watch the sun set over the mountains. Tomorrow, I think, I’ll rent a kayak. Or just sit by the water and read.

Am I dying? No. Check ✓.

Not a bad island to be marooned upon.