Finality

I'm leaving tomorrow. My bike's all packed in a box and I hope the girls in the lfight companies were right about me just strolling over to qantas and paying 120 aussie dollars for them to fly the big box home to Denmark. We'll see tomorrow. It's very interesting.
It's also very strange to be leaving, it felt so familiar to come back, or home to New Zealand. It's autumnal and recognisable and mountainous and might as well be Scandinavia, just with nikau palms and cabbage trees.

But I do look forward to home, to see my friends, my family, have a job, eat Danish rye bread and liquorice, hold hands with the loved one every day and sleep in the same bed every night, to not share dorm rooms with snooring strangers, to have more than two sets of clothes. It's also slightly scary. What if I forget how wonderful this was and don't go out again? If I just get a nine to five and have kids and tell about back when mum was cool and biked New Zealand and sailed to Fiji?
I don't think I will forget though. I'll probably remember so hard that there is no option but going out again.

Again, again again, I have to come back to this place.

Last ride

I'm at Nelson lakes now, sneaking time to one last bike ride before I'm going home. It's cold, and dark early, and a lot of camp sites are winterclosed. It's nearing to cold for tent in many places anyway, and definetely up here in the mountains. Luckily there's still backpackers and friendly Kiwis. It's pretty rough biking with a load after so long time lounging in ships and on beaches, but very rewarding.The scenery is fantastic. I have to come back.

Practicalities

New Zealand is nicer in the sun. Actually so nice I'm trying to sneak in a last little tour before I have to fly back. Tomorrow the mission is to get my tickets finalized and bike to St Arnaud. I'll continue to Greytown and take the train across to Christchurch, then fly home. Hopefully it works.

NZ

In Christchurch. There's nowhere to sleep but airport. It's fucking cold and expensive and stuff doesn't work. I'd forgotten the downsides of NZ. Got a busticket to Nelson tomorrow, will then go to someplace called papamoa in the North Island to pick up more luggage and then fly out from Auckland ASAP. I'm so over travelling right now.

Tomorrow's the day

Skipper alerted the immigration and harbour authorities, weather's been checked, kerosene oven's been fixed (I accidentally set it on fire), sailsetting's been practiced, extra warm sweater and seasickness pills been bought (and more chocolate) and we just want to leave. 10 o´clock tomorrow morning.

The girl who shouted wolf

Then the wind came and we´re still in Nelson and keep having last dinners and last drinks. 45 knots is to much wind for a new crew.
We hope the tasman storm will die down on Friday. We also hope that Fijian weather wont be too bad, they've had a pretty big storm and some nasty floodings.

There's gotten more crew aboard to a total of sixten, and the additions are Peggy from Holland, Dennis from Germany, Jef (or Jan-Erik as his real name is, though that dosn't sound as cool as Jef), and Hayden from Wellington. They're pretty young in many ways and it looks like it won't just be learing how to sail, but also conducting a psychological experiment of personalities as well. I do suppose we'll be allright, but I also suppose there will be some clashes on the way.

Anyhow, I will suddenly drop off the map, and that means I'm sailing to Fiji. If you want to know for sure that I've gone, check with Jes.

Hoist anchor, sailor!

We're going tomorrow. We're buying the last stuff today, scrubbing the deck, doing man over board practice and muster stations. I got a new cabin mate, Peggy from Netherlands. She seems very nice. I hope we can agree on our tiny space.
We had the last beer yesterday evening and everyone did like real sailors, getting drunk, dancing, flirting, someone ran out on a bill, someone got sick on the way home, someone got punched by a lady friend, someone showed their boat to a french guy, someone got lost and fell asleep on a different boat, and someone is still missing in action.

It's going to be fantastic. See you in a month.

Out to the big blue ocean

There's a fun story at the end

I was originally planning to write some posts ahead and have them appearing here. It didn't really happen; we've been to busy getting everything ready before sailing. Hence this space will be empty for the next month or so - there is no net on the ocean. I promise to return on Fiji and write fascinating tales of the sea and the islands. Deal?

Oh, the funny story: our kitchen sink outlet got plugged the other day. It turned out to be a dead fish, which had swam in there to gobble on our flushed out leftovers. I pulled it out of the outlet by the tail, sitting on our land raft.

Dirty sailors

Much less interesting than the title suggests, we're busy fixing up the ship still, grinding rust, painting, playing with phosphosric acid cleaing up the galley top, finding (or making) space for everything and gerneally cleaning up. It's starting to look nicer and nicer, though there's still a clutter of paint buckets and containers of all sorts to trip over on deck. It is coming together though, the inside of the ship is getting pretty neat and tidy, and even thoug it feel like we're adding one job on the to do list for each which is being done, it slowly shrinks.

Preparing the cruise

Alvei is a big boat. There's 187 ropes aboard weighing around a tonne, and I have to learn what happens when you loosen them and pulls. I also have to learn to tie knots, practice climbing around in the masts, grind rusty shackles and paint them, stowe away food, make maps over the food storing so we know where everything is, clean, and wash and out away. Luckily I'm not doing it alone, it looks like we'll be a crew of ten on board as well as Cap'n Evan.

It's pretty good and pretty busy, I'll try to remember to take pictures and update you guys. Most of all it's fun.

On board

I'm aboard the Alvei in Nelson and the crew is trickling aboard. I've already had my first galley watch cooking for everybody, luckily it was pretty good even if the rice burned at the bottom. I've also learned a few knots and fixed the netting under the bowsprit (google translate, don't blaim me if it's wrong) and then my bike decided to go for a swim. Luckily we could fish it up again, but there were a few moments of panic in my behalf. This is where I'll spend the next couple of months and I think it is going to be awesome

Golden string of perfect days

It's been an absolutely fabulous roadtrip aound the Golden Bay on the north west corner of South Island. We've kayaked and hiked in Abel Tasman, hitch hiked with great people, met new friends, played with baby seals, listened to world class violin concerts while drinking manuka beer at The Mussel Inn, made and eaten faboulous dinners,  rock climbed, celebrated St Pattys day around the fireplace and generally just had a magnificent time with fantastic people.
I'll post some pictures and elaborate further - in short, all is well, I'm alive and very happy.

Port Nelson

Nelson is a pretty sweet little place, with happy hippie kiwis, loads of backpackers, a nice atmosphere, a bustling and still industrial harbour, cute cafes, parks to hang in, walks to do, museums to visit. Quite the change from Havelock's population of 400 people.

We've been doing the tourist thing, the art museum is more recommendable than the local history, the japanese park isnice, so is the look-out point, and otherwise we recommend just strolling around. Accent on the park was the first place to be friendly and have beds, and we're quite happy.

And concerning that port that I mentioned, I've been looking for a ship to crew to go to Fiji in May. Trying out findacrew turned up a lot of lonely 40 and 50+ skippers looking for a queeze in the cabin of their nutshell boat, while I'm rather looking for a decent stable ship and an experienced captain who want sto swap sailing experience for good cooking and no further benefits.

Instead of looking for the needle in the virtual haystack I got lucky in real life and found the boat Alvei docked in the business side of the harbour. She's a schooner type, and her captains sails her as a non profit cooperative sailing school more or less. They're bound for Fiji beginning of April and need some more to crew the boat. I think I'm going to jump at that chance, and have already found a place to store my bike - the nice guys at Stewarts bike shops are saving the day once again. That means of course that the biking is postponed a bit, and I'll return to NZ sometime after Fiji in June or July. It'll be quite interesting to see what the weather is like then and if biking is even a remotely comfy option of transport.

Me and Madeleine will though first go for a little roadtrip, packing only the very basic - I feel rather intimidated by leaving both tent and sleeping bag behind, but there are hostels where we are gong and the plan is to hitch ride, which is a lot easier when you carry less. We've got a couple of days in Abel Tasman to kayak and tramp on daytours, then heading up to Collingwood and the Farewell sandspit, seeing where luck takes us , then head back to Nelson early next week. I'll board ship then and practice knots, setting sails, navigation and such on and Madeleine is going further down south to explore New Zealand.

Geographic inspiration - places to go before I die

They have a huge stack of old national geographics at the hostel, some dating back to the fifties, but the bulk is from back when mama was a boy* and USSR and East Germany still existed. Ihave ofcourse poured over them, read about all sorts of animals from wolves over whales and head lice, natural phenomonons ranging from hot springs over desert dunes and perma frosts, as well as exotic people and places - the older ones with horrifying and horrifyingly amusing views on the wild africans/new guineans/native americans/Arab deserts/USSR collectivefarms/Patagonia etc.
It's still pretty inspiring, and aparting form wanting a subscription badly (pretty hard when you don't have a permanent adress) there's a million places I want to go. Then there's all the people going through here with some pretty fantastic stories to tell. They've given a few ideas as well.

• Bike around the Baltic Sea
• Bike & hike Eastern Europe
• Bike the UK; Dover to Dunnet/Easter Head (that's the northernmost point in Scotland according to Wikipedia)
• Kayak the Donau
• Go by motorbike (cause I'm not THAT sporty) from Patagonia and all the way up through Latin America
• Bike USA from coast to coast
• Get a work holiday visa to Canada because you can get that until you're 35, and be a lumberjack and travel by train
• Sail the Pacific
• Travel on the transsiberian railroad
• Africa - the places where you don't risk ending up in a war/civil war/pirate lair/gold mining conflict
• Bike the East Coast of Australia
• Ski from Kemi, Finland to Kirkenes, Norway with Papa Bear
• Learn dog sledding on Svalbard
• Greenland!
• Climb mountains in Central Asia
• To be expanded

How about you guys?


*Anglified Danish joke. Does it work in English?

Ruten

Jeg var på besøg hos Beverly i går aftes; hun bor i Gisborne med sine teenagebørn og er en væver dame i halvtredserne og en ivrig langdistancecyklist. Jeg fik te og kage og en masse gode råd.
Vi spredte kort og bøger ud over hele bordet og planlagde en grov rute over det allermeste af New Zealand. Først fra Gisborne ned til Wellington langs østkysten, nusse lidt rundt vest for Picton i Nelson og Marlborough, til Abel Tasman nationalpark, ned langs vestkysten med diverse stop her og der for vandreture, ind ved Haast til søerne og Queenstown, ned til Invercargill og Bluff of over til Stewart Island og vandre. Så op langs østkysten og ind og se noget af midten af sydøenomkring Otago, op til Christchurch, gennem Arthur's pass og tilbage til Picton og nordøen. Der cykler jeg gennem de centrale dele med Tongariro, Lake Taupo og Rarotonga for at se på bjerge og vulkansk aktivitet, så op til Coromandel Peninsula og en færge til Auckland. Da skulle det gerne være slutningen af Maj, og så hopper jeg på en flyver til Fiji for at se den allerdejligste Jes der.

I've been planing the route with Beverly's help, she is a very nice lady, that I'm strongly tempted to call a pretty cool chick, which I think she´ll be allrigth with. She lives in Gisborne with her teenage kids, and does lots of long distance biking, so I got heaps of good advice and we came up witha tour wich covers pretty much all the parts of NZ, that I haven't seen yet. I'll start with going down to Wellington along the East Coast, then frolick about in Nelson, Marlborough and Abel Tasman National park, go down south along the West Coast and mountains with strategic stops for hiking, relaxing, kayaking and whatever I feell like doing. On Haast I'll be going inland to the lakes and Queenstown, form there all the way to Bluff, pop over to Stewart Island for a hike, do some of Otago, up to Christchurch, over Arthurs pass and up to Picton and back to the North Island. Then I'll go along the central parts, Tongariro, Lake Taupo and Raroronga, up to Coromandel and from there a boat to Auckland. The it should be late May/early June, and I'll hop on a fligth to Fiji to meet my beloved Jes.


View Larger Map

Do I really, really need this? Really?

Jeg har vasket og lappet og lagt bukser op og syet knapper i og imprægneret ydertøj og lagt det i en samlet bunke i skabet. Vi har lige ryddet stuerne, så her ser helt hjemligt ud, og jeg har fyldt dem igen, men allehånde turgrej og småting, det er livsnødvendigt at tage med. Noget af det vigtigste er at få den rigtige bog og den rigtige musik med. Strikkepinde og skrivebog til lange aftener i telt og en lommelærke, der kan deles med andre. Noget at sove i og noget tøj at tage på, kogegrej og nødhjælpsudstyr og kamera. Cimber air har sat en handy begrænsning på tyve kilo.  Det er meget, og samtidig meget lidt. Mit hjem i en rygsæk det næste år.

Billede via Alaskan eyes

Research

Jeg læser bøger om at rejse. Alene, sammen, ud på ekspeditioner, på cykel, ski, i sejlbåd over hele verden. Guidebøger, på dansk og engelsk, og så småt begynder jeg at forstå at der er eksistens bag ordene "jeg tager til New Zealand til november". At landet faktisk findes, og jeg skal flyve derned, selvom det lyder helt fjollet at tale om noget på den anden side af jorden. Et sted hvor jeg ingen kender og aldrig har været. Jeg skal derned; ud at rejse, endeligt, igen.

Jo flere bøger jeg læser, jo bedre forstår jeg også, at for at skrive mig frem, er det knap så meget kontakter, jeg skal have, som en reel historie at fortælle, og at tage ud at rejse er ikke nok. Der er så mange mennesker, der har den priviligerede mulighed at rejse ud i verden, og mange, der både rejser og møjsommeligt nedskriver sin historie bagefter, det myldrer med rejsebøger på bibliotekernes hylder. Desværre er størstedelen af dem ikke videre gode, og det er med beklagelse, for intentionerne bag bøgerne er tit gode, et ønske om at dele et vidunderligt privat eventyr, men enten uden evner for formidling, eller også kommer der alt for bratte opbremsninger, lige før det hele bliver spændende, interessant og personligt. Så forsvinder den personlige investering, og vi står tilbage med nøgne facts, hvor langt har nogen cyklet og hvor trætte de er og hvordan man kan leve for få penge på lange rejser. En udvidet rejsemanual om en persons subjektive oplevelse, der ganske givet kan være interessant og indeholde megen brugbar information.
Men skåret helt ud i pap, så skal det være et meget interessant menneske, hvis man skal læse om et enkeltindivid, hvad enten vedkommende befinder sig på eventyr i verden, eller i en etværelses i Nordvest. Hovedet op  røven bliver ikke mere spændende af at røven befinder sig et eksotisk sted.
Strengt taget er jeg faktisk ikke sikker på at jeg har noget at fortælle som ikke er fortalt før, måske endda bedre af andre. Ikke desto mindre skriver jeg jo stadig, og visse dage bliver det jordnært praktisk og faktuelt, alt for mange dage til slet ingenting. Forhåbentlig kan jeg komme lidt nærmere ind til eventyrets hemmeligheder og ikke ende på bibliotekets skraldehylder.

Udover overvejelser vedrørende rejsers esoteriske elementer, er der de rent praktiske, som gør det hele lidt mere virkeligt. Jo mere konkret jeg bliver i søgningerne, jo mere rigtigt virker det også, jeg leder efter roklubber, hvor jeg kan finde roture, venner og måske et langtursrum eller lov til at slå telt op på en diskret græsplæne. Muligheder for overnatning og småjobs, der involverer en vis kulturel udveksling fremforarbejdstid, der kun måles i kroner og ører. Hvornår er det egentlig jeg præcis skal søge om det der visum? Hvor skal jeg bo henne når jeg først kommer derned? Tænk at det overhovedet kan lade sig gøre at rejse så langt, og hvor er det længe siden jeg har været uden for Europa.

Ryd forsiderne!

Jeg skal måske også til Fiji fra New Zealand. Min fars kollega Villiame kommer derfra, og vi skal arrangere noget med en introduktionsbeskrivelse til hans lille landsby, der ligger på en ø tolv timers sejlads fra hovedøen, hvor man så skal gå tværs over øen og kommer til deres lagune. Det synes jeg kunne være ret sejt.

Rejsen begyndte i Helsinki

Det er nærmest ikke til at sige hvor en rejse for alvor begynder. Når jeg står i New Zealand, nu mens alt bliver planlagt, da jeg tog afsted på min allerførste telttur som niårig ned til elven 400 meter fra mine forældres hus, da min far gav mig kompasset som tolvårig og spurgte hvor vi skulle hen, da jeg fik  ideen? Når alt kommer til alt, har det sandsynligvis alt sammen indflydelse.

Det blev New Zealand via en omvej nordpå.
Jeg kedede mig utrolig meget på mit studium,  faktisk så meget at jeg endte med at tage til Finland for at læse. Deroppe varer et forårssemester til slutningen af maj, og når semesteret er færdigt, bliver udvekslingsstudenter smidt ud af deres kollegieværelse. Jeg skulle først igang igen i Danmark i september, og havde så tre måneders sommerferie og ikke noget særligt at tage mig til, og i øvrigt heller ikke særligt mange penge. Desuden havde jeg aftalt med mit fremtidige kollektiv at jeg skulle flytte ind i midten af august, så stod jeg også uden et decideret hjem de næste 2 1/2 måneder.

Det var dog ingen grund til panik, jeg pakkede mine ejendele og sendte dem hjem til min mor i Danmark. Det eneste der ikke blev sendt væk, var telt, en smule praktisk tøj, sovepose og mit slidte trangiasæt, samt en enkelt fin kjole, der var til bryllup i Oslo. Så snart festlighederne var overstået, hoppede jeg på en bus til Trondheim. Der talte jeg mine penge, og fandt ud af at jeg umuligt kunen nå særlig langt med offentlig transport i Norge. I stedet fik jeg et lift med en tømrer og derfra begyndte et eventyr i det nordligste Norge, Sverige og Finland, indtil jeg den 18/8 stod i København, kun et par dage forsinket.

Jeg blev for alvor bidt af rejsebacillen, hvor nemt det var, hvor mange seje mennesker jeg havde mødt, alt jeg havde oplevet, og jeg skulle ud igen.

Det var ikek helt tilfældigt at valget faldt på New Zealand. Den dér tømrer, der havde givet mig et lift var taget derned i 2010 og kom hjem med billeder og røverhistorier, der simpelthen ikke ville ud af hovedet igen. Jeg undersøgte lidt på nettet og fandt ud af at det nemt at få et visum til New Zealand, og man kan oven i købet få lov til at arbejde lidt, hvis man løber tør for penge.
Desuden er det verdens sikreste land - og det lyder måske tøset og det er det også. Det er ikke noget problem at tomle, men kun så længe man bliver samlet op og sat af igen, dér hvor man selv beder om det. Det kræver en vis tillid mellem chauffør og passager, især når jeg skal afsted alene.
Princippielt er det ovenstående blot detaljer, der muliggør rejsen; New Zealand er et af de steder, jeg er nødt til at se før jeg dør. Jeg mener, se bare her. Det er derfor jeg skal derned; der er fantastisk smukt, og jeg kan rende rundt på bjerge, hvor jeg kan bo i telt og være lykkelig med mig selv, min rygsæk og min frihed, før alvoren og voksenheden kommer og ta'r mig.

Velkommen i teltet

Velkommen på min nye blog. Her kan du læse om forberedelserne til og følge med på min næste tur.
I midten af november tager jeg til New Zealand for at vandre, klatre, sejle, ro, surfe og tomle hele landet rundt, møde nye spændende mennesker og opleve en masse eventyr.
Det er en temmelig dogmatisk rejse med få regler:

• Transport skal foregå for egen maskine, eller ved at tomle. Offentlig transport må bruges, når der ikke er andre muligheder for at komme frem - hvis nu jeg finder på at tage til Fiji. Der er ret langt at svømme.
• Overnatning foregår i telt, undtaget hvis man ikke må sove i telt, eller der er sikkerhedsmæssige grunde til at lade være - hvis nu det stormer helt vildt.

Dog vil jeg have et lille udhvilingssted i Gisbourne, hvor en ven af ven bor, og jeg gerne må lægge lidt rent tøj og komme forbi til et rigtigt bad og en vaskemaskine og et komfur og den slags umådelig luksus imellem turene.