3 Sisters + Elephant Rock

March 30, 2016May 10, 2016
by KandE

Unbeknownst to me, my face has been hosting a plump little pimple for an indeterminate amount of time. Yesterday on our drive, we made an unscheduled stop for an unusual luxury: a beer! In a bar! And it was there that my uninvited parasite became known to me as I was washing my hands in the hotel’s restroom.

My 1st thought: Oh, no!
My 2nd thought: Oh, well.

And on we went.

Life is much simpler without mirrors. Without standards of physical appearance. And the shift has certainly not been lost on the me, the way I perceive of my own body. If I have big thighs it’s because my muscles have been thoroughly engaged, getting me up and over these mountains. If my tummy isn’t perfectly flat, it’s because my love and I have been treating ourselves heartily to the local cuisine: white wine and Tim Tams. My unwashed hair is healthily producing natural oils and my skin breathes easily without the burden of makeup.

I’ve been spending my time concerning myself with how my body feels.
Not with how it’s clothed, how it’s combed, or how it may be compared.

My body is a temple.
Now accepting offerings of chocolate and fermented grapes.

-K

^ Private beaches mean that Kimi gets to take her pants off and run around till the tide gets too high.

^ Exploring the caves and rock formations. Eric left his pants on. They got soaked while he was trying to gain access to a tricky little outlet. Heh!

Cape Egmont Lighthouse

March 29, 2016May 10, 2016
by KandE

I lost my shit when I lost my shoe.

It was slurped up by the bog monster, to cries of despair and dismay. Was it the universe trying to scold me, punishing and preventing me from jumping that farmer’s fence? Possibly. But don’t you also think the universe might have delighted in the production of a dazzling photograph of a lighthouse at sunrise?

But alas, the artistic sensibilities and partialities of this dashed world are of no consequence. Following the separation of foot and flip-flop, I handed the camera off to Eric and launched a full scale campaign to sulk. (An ongoing wallow, really, for I’ve just now snuck in to the cupboard for my second hit of self indulgent chocolate. Don’t judge. It’s a welcome balm for my weary soul.)

Anywho.

After finding myself ankle deep in a squelching quagmire of mud (and feces?) I picked my way around the minefield of thistle thickets back to the safety of concrete. I stood barefoot beside the lighthouse, wondering if indeed this was the cosmos directing my focus. (And we’re back to that.)

Perhaps this is a lesson to be found only in the slick, soggy depths of a cow pasture, that I need to put down the camera more often. A reminder that snap shots for the social media machine are shallow. That forgoing all of my other senses to create a single, curated visual is absurd. That focusing on the “what will they think of it later” versus the “how do I FEEL about it NOW” is silly. Silly, silly, fucking silly.

But where’s that line drawn? Does this mean that taking photographs holds no real positive value in our personal experiences? Does it DEvalue them, taking one away from the moment? Am I allowed to capture, just not allowed to share? Does photography ironically thwart our attempts to “capture” a moment, laughing in our faces, as the very act inherently weakens it for the photographer?

I remember being asked by my big brother to photograph his marriage proposal several years ago. Our families gathered, the question and cork were both popped, and a festive CHEERS followed as glasses touched and twinkled. I remember capturing a beautiful photo of that moment. But more vividly, I remember having no one to clink my glass with after the moment had passed, passing me by in the process. I was there. But I wasn’t there.

And so I ask again: at what point does being a photographer get in the way of being present? Can these two courses coexist? Where’s the balance?

-K

^ Well. Tadaaaa. Turns out we did come away with an even better photograph than the one I had originally planned. When I handed the camera off to Eric in a fit of disgust, he didn’t end up being so idle with it. Me + Egmont + Mt. Taranaki in the distance. (First lighthouse I’ve ever seen with a volcanic backdrop. Whoop, whoop!)

^ The lighthouse the night before at sunset. Yeeeeeah, buddy.

^ Seaside puzzlin + yet another view of the lighthouse at night

^ This. This, this, this. Happiness. Joy.

Fantham’s Peak

March 28, 2016April 19, 2016
by KandE

Eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the top of a volcano, being serenaded by a clarinet. HOW can I make this an Easter tradition??

-K

Snaps along the way:

^ The same spot, looking up the trail and down the trail.

^ Cloud hangs, yo.

^On old dude.
^Me in the cloud.
^Feetsies.

^ Syme Hut! We didn’t go in. We were tired. It was small. We didn’t want to invade upon the hikers that were already set up inside.

^Eric’s least favorite part. Sliding down slippery volcanic rocks for a few hundred meters. I fell on my bum 8 times. Although it was FAR quicker to “fall” down them, than to pick our way through them going up.

Egmont

March 27, 2016April 19, 2016
by KandE

In other news, Eric has been putting on the booby tassels more frequently. It’s been stimulating the stupid part of my brain and detracting from the whole experience. (Booby tassels being the name of my Wi-Fi hotspot for the last decade obviously.) More scrolling is happening, less page turning as a result. More pixels rendered, fewer words recorded. And SHAME ON ME for that. And me alone, it would appear. Eric is far more adept at harnessing the power of the booby tassel for good over evil. While I’m mindlessly compiling photo captions, he’s utilizing his time to research hikes, chart weather patterns, and to troubleshoot the bounteous amount of problems we’ve encountered with the van. While I’m wandering through images of waterfalls, he’s pragmatically mapping out where we’ll next need to acquire our drinking water.

Althoooough, this isn’t always the case. Look at me! Writing! Meanwhile ol’ E has been obsessively tweaking his latest contribution to the Gram machine for a solid hour. We’re just playing a waiting game with the weather so we can go ogle our next hut. Weee! Meanwhile the car park has begun to fill to bursting and we cringe at all the children spilling forth from every vehicle, while working our way through our 2nd cups of coffee. (It doesn’t escape me either that we will be bound to greet all of these dill holes that choose our hike that we’ll meet on their return. GAH, those Sunday hikers are the most annoying. Calves too slender, decorative Spandex too crisp, too expensive, to be taken seriously. End rant.)

(Continue rant. Also I’m mad because I GOTTAGOgottago and I want the bathroom all to myself. Maybe end rant.)

-K

^My new favorite lighthouse: Castlepoint. Getting creative with my angles, working to block out the A hole in the bright red jacket who set up his tripod in front of me.

^Uh huhhhhh. That’s what I’m talking bout.

^ If you look reeeeally closely, Paula is just visible in the lower left. Also notice the big gulf we had to trudge through to get here, making our shoes smell for the next 2 weeks.
^ Eric watching the sun come up. We didn’t come to the house together, having camped overnight here. This is where I found him after I’d gotten my shots and was headed back.

^ Stairs. Nice stairs.
^ Instax shot I sent to Momma and Poppa H in the mail. (That better be on the fridge, guys.)

^ Meh. The shot I managed of the lighthouse the day before in the persistent drizzle. Amazing what good lighting can do, when the sun started shiiiiining the next morning.

Egmont

March 26, 2016April 17, 2016
by KandE

That Sabrina, she’s a sassy one.

An endless source of entertainment for Eric and me this evening, we were laughing into our teacups, snorting butter biscuits, as that loud Long Island accent bounced around the van. What we know about her in the half hour she joined us for tea time, comes from her stories of DMV employment, tales of Gracie the dog, and in relating the crowning achievement of her life: that $2 moment that got her on stage with Bob Barker. (Before Price is Right went to shit of course. That Drew Carey is trying to bullshit a bullshitter.) She’s wildly superstitious, has a twin sister named Melissa (Mo,) and is prone to chain smoke when anxious. She’s forever assigning new nicknames (not all of which are complimentary) and will herself respond to “Kimberly.”

Eric, between chuckles, insists I ought to be a voice actor.

^ Coffee crawling in Wellington

Cape Palliser

March 23, 2016April 12, 2016
by KandE

I can give you the recipe for my risotto. That’s easy. Onion, garlic, a 1/2 cup of dry white. (However chicken or vegetable stock only–not beef. Tonight’s experimentation was not well received by the man of the household.) But it’s the risotto experience anyway that was truly delectable.

Our kitchen sits at the base of Cape Palliser–a cheerful candy cane of a lighthouse situated on a small bluff. She sends me a wink from her perch twice every 20 seconds. I give her a satisfied smile back in between my stirring. Eric has gone down to count the seals in the bay and I have the van to myself. From the window behind the sink I watch him pick his way across the rocks. Between us, the seals bob and swim like periscopes upon the waves. Billie Holiday croons softly in the background as I pour myself another slow glass of wine. Cozied up to our little stove in my underwear, the sun is golden upon my bare skin. Dinner shall soon be ready. Some recipes, some moments, y0u just want to savor all evening long.

Filed under: “I don’t think I’ve understood what relaxation meant until this moment.”

-K

Wellington

March 21, 2016April 12, 2016
by KandE

Weekend wrap! Yee-haw!

We’ve since journeyed east to head west, arriving in Wellington last night. The crossing was spent trying to find the best reading nook aboard. Bonus points for good light, light wind, and silence from the several windbags aboard. We have now progressed in our adventures from an island the size of Iowa, to a land mass comparable to Ohio. Weeee!

This morning a group of giggling high schoolers knocked on our window and asked if they might interview me for an assigned project. YES, my big break! My ARRIVAL onto the NZ stage! They were most enamored with our toilet & photographed me strumming the ukulele in my pajamas. It was a glorious moment to hear them say, “It would be so cool to live in this.”

We checked another light off our list! Cape Campbell, you saucy tower, you, your black stripes flirting for hours with me before I could finally touch you. (Good touch. The requisite hug on behalf of Momma H.) It was a 90 minute jaunt along the coast there. An intermission, largely photographic in it’s mission upon arrival. Then a 3 hour journey back. We trespassed, traversed, and trudged our way across several peaks, pastures, and bike paths. The tide was too high they way we had come, and our optimism was not. Adventurin’, eh? It would have been more enjoyable had my knee been able to keep up with our pace. At one point I was forced to fold my body upon a piece of driftwood while my dear went in search of a walking stick to aid my hobble back. It’s in moments like these where I watch him from afar, selecting several smooth branches from the flotsam, testing each in turn for the strength and height suitability that my hearts melts. It’s these moments of such focused, tender caring and kindness that make make me think I might like to spend a good, long time loving this human being, so simple and straightforward in his love and affection.

-K

Blenheim

March 19, 2016April 3, 2016
by KandE

I parted my hair. Two hanks of clean locks on either side, secured in the back with an elastic. I put on a dress. Unearthed from the wrinkled recesses of my dressing cupboard, frumpy yet feminine. I tweezed. Unseemly sprouts from the neck up, vanquished in an earnestly pitiful, pitifully earnest attempt to give one the illusion that I don’t–couldn’t possible!–live in a vehicle of any variety.

On the drive over, I repeated my mantra to fan the embers of enthusiasm. “Elegance is an attitude,” I chanted to Eric, meanwhile hoping that I was correct in assuming flip flops were more formal to sneakers. We were headed to a vineyard of some renown for the afternoon. The one whose grapey products command the TOP shelf at the supermarket, where the $40 bottles go.

Upon arrival we noticed that in a similar vein, the parking lot is built for the top shelf automobiles one might expect to decorate such a place. Small and shiny with clean backseats. Paula was forced to the periphery, sidled up sloppily next to the vines. If this was an airplane, she’d have been forced to purchase an extra seat.

At this point, I nearly lost my nerve. And this was before I knew my face was smeared orange. (Evidence of an overlarge carrot I tried to conquer for lunch.) After a frantic side view mirror appraisal, a Dawn dish soap goatee, and the distressed scrub for an appearance in peril… I gave up. I put a scarf over my dress to hide the subsequent water spills. And I followed Eric meekly through the grand double doors to whatever judgement was to follow among the polo shirt society set.

And,

Well…

The good news: the staff was lovely. The grounds were spacious. And the wine was potent enough to fill the front yard with my cackles, as I swung barefoot under a tree with a glass of pinot in hand. Elegance is an attitude, sure. But so is not giving a fuck. Cheers!

-K

Kaikoura

March 17, 2016April 3, 2016
by KandE

Murphy’s Law states that anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

Me, I would like to know who this Murphy chap is, so I can either tell him to go fly a kite or to go fuck himself, depending on his vibe and our rapport. Either way, he’s not getting off easy.

Our newest “adventures” involve furry, thieving critters in our midst with an appetite for wholemeal bread with grains. (Hey, I get it; fiber is important.) This morning while breakfast was underway, it was noticed that the loaf was gouged and the bag shredded by a pair of tiny teeth. And thus, my morale has been gouged and my peace of mind shredded.

Also: the van has taken to wild gyration while on the road and we need new tires. The end.

-K

Westport

March 15, 2016April 3, 2016
by KandE

To celebrate THREE months living in Paula, here’s a little series of tres.

Things I haven’t worn:
1. A bra
2. A watch
3. Makeup

Things I’ve learned:
1. When you have less, it takes less to be happy
2. Elegance is an attitude
3. Numbers are meaningless when you let go of comparisons

Things I miss:
1. The ability to stand up straight at home
2. Relaxed poops
3. Nephews

Things I don’t miss:

1. Tipping + added sales tax
2. Sleeping alone
3. Feeling like a consumer rather than a human in a business exchange

Habits I’ve acquired:

1. Looking right THEN left before crossing the street
2. Wearing the same outfit days in a row
3. Making the bed daily (REALLY making it, out of a table)

Things I’ve been better off without:

1. Mirrors
2. Numbers
3. Unlimited internet access

My greatest pleasures on the road:

1. Hot coffee every morn in my little nest of pillows
2. Reading and writing for hours on end, with no greater demands upon my time
3. Clean hair day, especially when it’s hot, private, and unlimited water from an enclosed shower.

My greatest struggles in this lifestyle:

1. Sharing my personal space with my man person
2. Talking through my moods and feelings in real time, all the time
3. Being fully content–appreciating rather than comparing my reality

The best moments so far:

1. Coming upon the congratulatory rainbow at Liverpool Hut
2. Countryside driving during one glorious golden hour
3. A Christmas morning hike on the cliffs of Golden Bay

Goals for the remainder of our time:

1. Nail a Milky Way shot
2. Pick up a hitchhiker
3. Stay in a hut

Ways I hope this will positively influence life back home:

1. Purging my possessions, living with less
2. More mindful disconnection from my devices
3. Seeking solace outdoors when my mind, body, and soul feel misaligned

-K

&Now: an overdue roundup of all the photos that have been lurking on my desktop, waiting for their moment of blog recognition.

^ That one time we hiked up a hill in Queenstown with cold beers in our bag. #bestideaever

^ Really, the best way to enjoy Queenstown: intoxicated and from a good distance away.

^ IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO FIND ONE OF THESE!

^ Dapper dude’s gotta stay dapper.

^ A little honey for my honey. (The obvious caption.) Seriously though, honesty boxes? Melt my heart. (Although to be honest, I Photoshopped out the big, ugly sign that said there were cameras surveilling the area for the bastards that don’t leave their $7. GIMME A BREAK.)

^Eric enjoying a beer after his afternoon craft is complete. (Giggle, giggle, giggle)
^A random cafe we happened upon in the middle of nowhere. MINNESOTA!

^Snail mail is 2348x more exciting here. Especially when it’s from my friend Amy: owner of the cutest set of stationary. #hardcorecovet
^Nin’s Bin! A coastal icon.

^Eric didn’t believe me that this was a sea star. PFFFF.
^Meow.

^ Watching the waves. Laughing when they’d come up to nip my toes.