East Coast
ADVENTURE
Dunedin was much more than just looking after a small, eclectic tribe.
During those two weeks spent in the house of my dreams, I not only could spend hours drawing, writing, and yoguing (yes, I want to make it a verb) facing the ocean, but I also had the chance to observe wildlife that I probably won't see again. It's these kinds of experiences that I didn't necessarily expect, but they confirm to me that packing everything up (again) and hitting the road was worth it.
We tend to have a very specific and somewhat fixed idea of what success and stability mean. For a while, I needed to create new roots, to anchor myself in a place I had chosen and to "settle down" after so much wandering.
But barely two years after my arrival in Valencia and only six months into the apartment that I had spent seven months searching for, my heart told me to pack my bags again and head to the other side of the world.
It's a bit paradoxical really, because I was comfortable in that apartment; but my instinct knew that I had something else to experience.
Now, I know that this something else was this:
Residing in a replica of THE house where I plan to spend a significant portion of my life creating, shielded behind large windows while being able to admire the force of the tides. No, not renting or being indebted for twenty-five years, unlike what we're used to and consider the normal way, but for free, caring for and loving small, furry beings who only bark from time to time.
Exploring wild beaches with people dear to me who love adventure as much as I do, crossing wild dunes together to go admire the sea lions lounging on the sand and occasionally squabbling (well, there was one that was really massive, so when it got active, we kept our distance).
Then patiently waiting, huddled together to protect ourselves from the wind while scanning the shore.
The air was truly icy, Juliette wanted to go back and I hesitated to follow her but, before that, I closed my eyes. Believe me if you want, but I rooted myself in the ground, repeated "please" three times and, when I opened my eyes, I was the first to see its little body surfing out of the water. It took its time crossing the beach, passing calmly in front of the sea lions (who, although asleep, are among his main predators), then drying off on the dune before joining its nest perched in the mountains, where its comrades awaited him. The yellow-eyed penguin (or Hoiho, in Māori) is considered the rarest penguin in the world and is threatened with extinction.
So I can assure you, I cried like a baby to have the honour of seeing this little family of four with my own eyes.
And on the same day, a few kilometres away, looking up and being flown over by one of the largest birds in the world. The royal albatross can reach up to 3.50 metres in wingspan, and I'd say about two metres for those that circled me. As someone obsessed with freedom, this spectacle could only exhilarate me. Did you know that young albatrosses start exploring the oceans eight months after birth and don't return until four to eight years later? Travelling broadens the mind, I tell you.
So, I wonder: what really is success? I struggle to get my business off the ground and I'm not yet the owner of a house facing the ocean. Okay.
However, I manage to visit wonderful places, to enrich myself with increasingly exceptional experiences, I always have a (often dreamy) roof over my head, quality food in my belly, I can afford to wake up at 8 am and do an hour of yoga and meditation before working on projects that stimulate me, and I am surrounded (physically and remotely) by people I love and who love me. Sorry if this isn't as conventional as success and stability go, but looking back, I think I've pretty much nailed it!
It took me a while to realise it, but I already have my abundance. So, first, thank you, Life!
Now, apart from all this, after Juliette left and we finished our house-sitting in Dunedin, we embarked on a two-week sunny journey with the van.
So we followed the Pacific to reach Oamaru, then Timaru. There, we patiently waited after nightfall for three little blue penguins to emerge and cross the damp sand to nestle in the rocks for the night. They are the smallest species of penguins, and it was pitch dark, but witnessing their short waddling parade was yet another unforgettable experience.
Then we continued our journey towards Christchurch, a city with British looks, and explored the Akaroa Peninsula before heading towards Arthur's Pass, the route to the West Coast. But that will be for another time.
❂ In the meantime, I'm going to write while facing the mountains. Thank you for reading me ❂
