A Little Different, And Great Friends

Dear Adventurous Reader,

We are flying over the mountains of New Zealand, the Alps that line the west coast of the South Island. The white peaks reach up, from a long way below - they feel as if they are trying to touch the bottom of the plane. The mountains don't do that in Australia. We try and find a way to look out the windows, leaning over passengers to grab a sneak-peak of a new country as it comes into view.

The flight was long. For a first flight, for any flight, the children were fantastic. Standing in line, waiting in a row and following orders. They sat on the seats, didn’t climb about or yell and scream, they were well behaved and it was a great relief - I didn’t expect bad behaviour, just sometimes new things bring about unexpected actions. I felt the tension ease as we begun the decent into Christchurch, we made it without having to apologise to any other passengers.

Even through customs, which was long and boring, after an early morning and a long day - everyone was denied sleep by hours of exciting and new things - we made it to new soil, a different country, and were welcomed at the airport by our long-lost friends Eileen and David.

The boys were super excited to get back “home”, because waiting for them were Simon and Reuben. Simon and Reuben are close friends of the boys, they moved back home to New Zealand a few years ago. Due to a series of fortunate events, our tickets managed us to spend a week in New Zealand. An Unexpected Journey, with our friends having space to house all of us - incredible. We altered our plans of a direct flight to Canada, and took the adventure that came to us.

I’ll just point out that we have rather awesome friends. David and Eileen were game enough to host our horde. Maybe the didn’t know what they were getting into having us on site for a week.

New Zealand Difference

Things are different in New Zealand. The house have strange roofs, and the the blocks have yards. The people say “‘ey?” and are nice and smile when walking down the street. The wind is cold, and the mountains that line the backdrop remind me that I am no longer in Australia.

Bordering the town, on the north-west side, of Rangiora, maybe one hundred kilometres off in the distance, are mountains, tall enough to be draped in snow. Our home and everything around it is so flat, in comparison, and the mountains, covered in snow at the beginning of spring, seem to me an odd occurrence - the locals probably wouldn’t even notice.

The town feels both large and small. Population wise it is the same as our home town, but it has lots of shops and a larger town centre. People drive on the correct side of the road, and there are cycling lanes that have cyclists in them - it is so flat around here that riding would be a great way to get about. We have found the local Countdown (Safeway back at home), and a library that has some cubbies to crawl inside and read.

Hanmer Springs

Aqua-blue water winds around the smooth pebble-lined river, ice melt pressing through the wide river bed. White rolls of water press over the pebbled river, as it twists between the mountain range that we are driving between to get up toward Hanmer Springs.

The water is hot, springs warming the water from below the surface of the earth. People stroll about in bathing suits, stepping into the warm water from the chill-day air.

The large pool at the bottom is filled with children, and shortly after setting upon the waters (for we all wanted to swim) the life-guards call us all to exit. A poo has been found in the pool. Emergency evacuation, for ‘it’ and all of us. So, as a group we set upon warmer waters, finding spas and pools that have a temperature of more than 25 degrees.

Adeline and myself found that the pools of warm spring water, cascade into pools below, either going down rocky waterfalls, or long canyons. If you start at the top, you can crawl on your belly down from pool to pool. Stopping for a relaxing sit along the way. On our way down we meet Joash and Elijah, who join us until the water slides seem like more fun.

The second evacuation call, upon our return to the Pool Pool was sign to pack up and leave. A wonderful drive back down the mountains, descending roads we had climbed to spend a wonderful day.

Ashley Gorge

The “hulls” (say it out loud, and you will get the accent correct) wind up and down, covered with trees and a misty rain that quietly falls. There is no wind in the trees, only the sound of birds chittering. The boys are building a long, stone weir into the river, dropping stones large and small onto into a neat pile, and then jump out of the way of the cold water as it splashes upward.

Eileen stands on the dry stones, passing more rocks along the long line of boys who arrange, or drop the rocks, into place. The boys are always yelling some form of command to each other. "We'll get to the other side!" One suggests, but Levi brings the voice of reason, "Nah we won't. It's too far."

Joash has started his own wall, in another place, away from the water to keep himself dry. He had been building with everyone else, but decided that the splashes were to be avoided.

Here the hulls are tall around us, steep and lined with green trees. The green of the grass and trees is new to me, I have seen green trees before, but this lush, green colour shines from everything. It is beautiful to look upon - “The grass is greener on the other side (of the Tasman Sea)”, as the saying goes.

Friends

What brought us to Rangiora was friends - friends who had moved back to New Zealand, with a sea separating us for a time. The Unexpected Journey to New Zealand was something the boys looked forward to, and the week with Simon and Reuben and Zoe, David and Eileen, was refreshing, but also fun for everyone.

The Difficulty is in Leaving

The plane is waiting on the runway. My eyes are tired, stinging from the early morning, the long drive from home to the airport, and the long wait. Rush to the airport only to wait in long lines, following other people who also rushed to the airport, only to wait. We have our seats, the ones we booked months ago, and we are waiting to depart.

I look out of the window, watching the rain fall on the tarmac and dribble along the plastic windows; long trails left behind the beaded drops of water. Outside is Tullamarine, and beyond that Melbourne. For the past 33 years Melbourne has been the largest city closest to home, and once the plane lifts off the ground, it will fall behind the horizon until we return, we are not sure when that will be.

In my tired state I think of changes I want to make to my fitness. “I should start running along the beach.”, and I think about the path between Ocean Grove and Barwon Heads, the salt bush trailing along the dunes, the dark sea as it stretches beyond the edge of the world to Tasmania. Can’t do that, I won’t see Ocean Grove for a year.

Maybe I could ride - I tend to get fit faster if I ride a bike. The rain falls heavier onto the outside window, as I realise that I sold my bike and have the cash stashed in my wallet.

Changes. These plans for fitness visit me multiple times a week, and for the first time I cannot predict what I will be able to do. I cannot change my actions, or imagine starting down any path because I cannot imagine our destination. Can I ride a bike, or go for a run? Even before then we have to cross one of the longest countries in the world. Maybe I could run from bears?

A few nights before this same understanding had come to me, while I was watching the bonfire flame dwindle in the cold night air. Everything will be different, things will change, and I am unsure what it will look like.

Friends, family and fire

The boys don’t need any encouragement to light sticks on fire, especially when the pile is super high and we have friends coming over to stand around burning embers, and talk, late into the cold night. Tonight we are having a bonfire to say farewell to our friends and family.

Two days ago the boys carved sticks into spears, and tonight they are sitting in the paddock pushing the sharped ends into fire lighters. Lots of sticks, one for every child, are set alight and then heaved onto the bonfire.

The fire burns, taking up the refuse, and sending long tentacles of flame into the air. We all move closer to feel the heat, stepping out of the cold breeze, and the kids walk around, inspecting the fire to make sure all of the sticks will catch fire. “It’s not as good when we used bows and arrows last time.” Levi tells me. “But, it was okay.”

Friendships are made in times like these. Long, lingering discussions, that start in small gatherings, and grow deeper as time pulls you closer together. Conversations that start around small things (like a bonfire), and grow bigger, delving deeper into more personal topics. I remember two years ago standing around a fire like this with the Millers, listening to Roger and Tony talking about ‘Murica and politics.

Life is like that, small things grow, and in time you realise that a friendship has started, where there was none before. Time, and stories, have twined together to bring you closer to the same place. Growing together over time, makes parting so difficult.

And family. We would not be the way we are today without them. We share a property and a house with Jacqui’s parents, and live less than a kilometer away from my parents. We catch up with our siblings on a regular basis, and share a meal and a laugh with them. We are in regular communication with at least one brother or sister, and love spending time with them. If family are friends you don’t get to choose, then we couldn’t have not-chosen a better bunch to hang out with.

We have spent the last few months thinking about saying goodbye, and due to packing and thinking about getting around, we have not thought about “the dreaded goodbye”. Yet, standing around the burning sticks, with family and friends, it is hard to not think about it.

I look around at the bonfire and see faces of people who have built up our community. Our closest friends and family, who have stood besides us, or listened to our woes, or given words of wisdom. Our support, those who have given things more precious than we can ever say thank you for - their time. Our community, that we will not see face-to-face for a long time.

We will be on the road and not see these dear people. It made me feel sad, made me feel like I wanted to stay home and not travel. “The idea was great, the plans were fun, and the trip would have been the best thing ever - but I’m good thanks. I’ll stay home, and we’ll travel a little later on.”

Adventure is Upon Us

Running from bears? What else can I expect from a tired brain? Getting up at 4:00am has made me wonder about fitness while we sit on the edge of the biggest adventure our family has been on. I shake my head, and rub my stinging eyes.

“Joash, press pause and look out the window.” I say across to the window seat. He has settled down to watch Thunderbirds on the screen in front of him. The engines wind up, and start thundering, he smiles and looks as the plane starts down the runway, pressed back into his seat from the acceleration.

“This feels weird.” The boys all say as the plane lifts from the ground, weightlessness for a split second as the plane departs home soil. “Home soil”, down below is Melbourne, the city growing further away, as the plane pulls the wheel up and takes to the skies, off toward New Zealand, then Canada.

Down below are all the people, friends and family, the places we know and love, all of them getting smaller as the plane departs Home and takes us onward, toward the unknown. The one thing that we take away with us, from all those we hold dear, nothing can take away, is the memories we have created together. They are coming with us, and will eventually call us home.

Another Adventure Upon Us

Dear Adventurous Reader,

It has been a long time since we last wrote, and we have missed you. Time passes by, leaving us to take care of the immediate things, and neglecting those that don't yell enough for our attention. While there has been plenty of things yelling for our attention, writing a new post to give you an update was not yelling loud enough. Sorry.

Hopefully we can make it up to you. We have plenty of tales to tell.

Empty Corner of the Internet

This little corner of the internet has been void of stories containing adventure in the past months. Adventures have been less-grand, and more day-to-day, slipping in between the gentle flows of life. Work, school, sport and other things have taken our time. But, in the quiet, since we last spoke, an adventure has risen and taken us in.

Travel is something we always wanted to do, using the world as a form of education, and seeing the places where people around the world live - either by birth or by choice. Since our first trip in a car we have wanted to see some of the world with our children, but have never had a way to do it. Then, in the past few months a trip was planned, and the way became clear.

And so, we are off on another adventure. Not the short kind where we pack in ten days to drive around half of Australia with friends we met two months before. Not the second kind, where we cycle unsupported around some of Tasmania. The long kind, that had lots of planning, and tickets to foreign countries.

Yes. We are heading overseas. With six children. It will be fun.

Offshoring Our Adventures

We returned from Tasmania in March, summer passed us by, autumn came, and we begun hibernating. We wanted to start planning our next adventure, but decided that it would be great if we could keep saving our money to head overseas. Living in Australia can be expensive, and while we live cheaply at home, being on the road and limited in what we can carry, means that traveling (either by car or bike) brings our cost of living up.

So we waited, and talked about what we could do.

As our talks started to move past “thinkings” and into “plans” we started sending emails back and forward with friends and family, first gentle questions, and as time passed, more serious questions about visas, and clothing. New Zealand, Canada, United States, all covered with our first thoughts, and all within our first lot of tickets purchased.

From Talking to Tickets. It all happened so fast that it seemed strange to talk to other people about. I would say “We have tickets booked to Canada.”, and then feel guilty about mentioning a “plan” out loud. Like I was breaking an oath.

When it is a plan, all words and thoughts, things can change and not effect life, as you “try a thought on to see how it looks” (as John Roderick would say). Once the tickets have been purchased though, it takes on a new and different shape. From Plans to an Inescapable Truth. It sounded like the right thing to do before we made the purchase, how can it feel so strange after exchanging cash?

The Yelling. The Yelling.

Where did I start? Oh yes, the yelling.

We have been surrounded by yelling. Yelling for passports and checking on the visa situation. Yelling for work, and organising what we would be doing. Yelling for saying goodbye to family and friends. And what should we pack?

We have made lists, and we have forgotten them. Creating new lists in their place. Lists quell the yelling for a time, but it is still there in the background. Behind the kids, and the birds, if you stop long enough you can hear it. “Are you ready?” Eventually the panic rises enough, and quiet is filled with more yelling.

Everything has been yelling for our attention, my head hurts and I want to find a dark and quite room just to write. But, as of tomorrow, the yelling should change, because we begin our adventure.

Change. But not stop. It might even be a little different. I might even get the change to write to you a little more, Dear Adventurous Reader, and that would make me feel happy.

Scenic Railway to Kuranda

Dear Adventurous Reader,

An old railway runs from Cairns up into the mountains beyond. A railway constructed by the labor of many men, facing hardship and death everyday. Today we took the easy path and paid money for the train ride to the small town of Kuranda.

We love trains and railways. All of us like old railways with a story to tell, especially one of hard work, of toil and men of the past shaping a peaceful path through a treacherous mountain. Before the steam engine could make the journey, men went before to forge the path. Pick axes and dynamite used to blast and hack their way through the difficult terrain.

Today engineering is a different feat, we have made it easier for ourselves. In the days of old paths were created on the sweat and shoulders of people who would dare to prove what seemed impassable was not.

There are 15 tunnels hewn from the mountain side, the longest 490 meters. There are many bridges spanning gaps small to large. One bridge is built on one of the two switch backs where you can see the engines pulling up front and the last carriage following behind.

The train slows down on one switchback as it passes a large waterfall. People move from one side of the train to the other, making sure to take a photo or to store an image in their mind. The rain from a few nights ago not going to waste with the magnificent scenery.

The Kuranda Scenic Railway has a video that displays photos at opportune story moments, telling us the tale of the railway's creation. It is neither loud or annoying, often times the children's excited voices drown out the words it speaks to us. It tells tales of wonder and explains magnificent views.

Tourist Town in the Mountains

We pull into Kuranda. The station is surrounded by wonderful green trees and large flowers. There are some steps leading toward the town which we follow.

Kuranda reminds us if Sorento, across the bay from where we live. The prices at the shops also remind is of Sorento. The town seems to run on the tourist dollars that arrive, there are many indigenous, new-age and specialty stores along the street, all catering to the whim of someone looking for a bargain or for a memory.

We walked into the rock candy store, just standing inside that place made your teeth start to decay. There were so many colours and flavours of rock candy to choose from, with a video to demonstrate how it was made. We put that on the list of places to visit on the journey back towards the train.

We ate a cheap lunch of Nutella on bread. We took a brief stroll though the rainforest before rushing back towards the train for the ride home. We spent more time sitting on the train than wandering the streets of Kuranda, although if we had more time we would have walked the rainforest instead of finding shops to take our money.

Down Again

Back down the mountain, making the slow trip with the train again. The same video played but reversed the explanation points. The boys hopped between seats trying to find the best view as the train slowed at important sections, once again. Adeline had the afternoon sleep she had been fighting since lunch.

Kuranda Scenic Railway was a slow ride through some beautiful scenery. We loved the idea of seeing that part of the world by train, in old style carriages, going slowly up the mountain to see the views of Cairns and the forests below.