365 True Things: 12/Travel (New Zealand)

I have traveled all my life, starting with a circumnavigation of the globe when I was two and three. (Needless to say, I do not remember this.) Travel is not just a pleasure, but a need: to experience other ways of living, other options or expectations; to slow down, explore—see natural beauties, eat local foods, learn history. To remember who I am. Who we are as beings who share the world.

In November, David and I went to New Zealand for five weeks, as a way of celebrating my sixtieth birthday. People ask me, Why New Zealand? And honestly, I can't tell you. A few friends had been there within the last few years and couldn't have been more enthusiastic about the place: there was that. But we don't know anyone there, and it hasn't been a country I've "always" wanted to see. Still, one day while I was mulling over possibilities for this landmark anniversary, New Zealand splashed into my head and hooked itself. But good.

And so, we went. And, yes, it was a wonderful trip. Such an easy place to travel and, being a tiny sliver of Gondwanaland that's been drifting on its own for ever, fascinating in terms of natural history. The amazing bird life—and we were fortunate enough to stumble on kiwis, both accidentally and on purpose—was perhaps our favorite (the bird pictured here is an endangered takahē, seen in a reserve), but the otherworldly vegetation was a very close second.

At times, though, we'd look around and forget where we were. Sonoma County, with its acres of rolling vineyards? Norway, with its deep fjords? Hawaii, with its giant tree ferns? That was an oddly disconcerting aspect of the place: it often felt so familiar. Forests of Monterey pine, stands of Monterey cypress, the odd giant sequoia, not to mention twittering coveys of California quail scampering along the hiking tracks, would make us feel like we were in a space warp.

Christchurch cathedral

But when it felt different, it was wildly different. The Tongariro Crossing (↑ North Island) with its stark volcanic landscape was astonishingly beautiful, as was the karst topography of the Oparara Basin (northwest corner of the South) or Rob Roy Glacier, surrounded by waterfalls, in Mount Aspiring National Park
(↓ outside of Queenstown). Stewart Island in the far south allowed us close views of rare endemics. Christchurch, so recently devastated by an earthquake, was fascinating on the human front: a phoenix rising from the ashes. And so much more. Even if I have no real idea why I decided on New Zealand, I'm glad I followed the whim.








Now—just recently—a new whim has been tickling my thoughts: Israel. When I was young, I thought I wanted to go there, maybe live in a kibbutz, work as an archeologist. But then other things happened, and I forgot all about Israel. The other day, however, I saw some lovely photos of Jaffa and Jerusalem in an acquaintance's Facebook stream. So very different from the world I know—in so very many ways. And now, you might say once again, I am curious. This would not be a natural history journey, but one into human history and culture—a different sort of roots and essences. It feels, right now, like an important place to witness.

But let's see what places straggle into my thoughts the next time I actually sit down to plan a trip. I'm always open to ideas!