That New Zealanders are a lovely bunch seems to be a somewhat of a globally accepted fact. Perhaps it’s got something to do with being geographically so cut of from most of the madness of this world. Perhaps it’s something in the water. Regardless of which, it’s definitely there.
From time to time travelling New Zealand reminds me a lot of my time in Turkey, Iran and parts of Central Asia. Random people go totally out of their way just to make sure you’re alright. Reach out a hand because they want to, rather than because you need it. Ask you How, not If they can help. The sort of genuine hospitality that I think I’d come to believe was only to be found in muslim countries.
Living on a bicycle and in a tent does leave one exposed to rain and wind, but even more so to the people around you. Walls and doors to lock are far from part of everyday life and wherever you find yourself, you’re in it. Like ‘instead of watching rain through the window – you’re feeling it run down your neck’ sort of in it.
Luckily this is just as true when the sun is shining. And when you find yourself surrounded by Kiwis.
After having had the Aussie outback set the standard, camping on the north island of New Zealand is nothing but disastrous. Rolling down Northland I usually found myself along roads with nothing but fences and closed off farmland. Areas which in themselves are quite great to look at, but absolute crap to pitch a tent by.
In most places this would definitely turn evenings into somewhat of a headache. Here though, it really only tweaked my sunset routine to something quite great. Most evenings I found myself left in the hands of yet another farmer’s family, posing as the adoptive sister/daughter/friend for the night.
I obviously love this. But between you and me, I am getting too spoiled over here. Almost to the point where I think I might would do well from having roaming cyclists added to the general ‘don’t feed wild animals’-policy.
The other day it struck me that things are getting seriously out of hand…
…as I saw this – and instead of realising that I had a tricky camp spot coming up, caught myself thinking that I was likely to be in for a good home cooked meal tonight.
It’s awesome. And it’s bad.
Gosh.
I think I’m getting domesticated..?
Fredrika
P.S
Oh! I just feel like you guys need to know that not only the über-friendly Kiwis live here – the most majestic pet pig the world has ever seen does as well. Meet Priscilla!
