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Wellington Botanic Gardens were beautiful. I wish I’d had my macro lens.

Wellington, New Zealand. February 2017.

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Last night in Auckland and this is the view from my room. Daaaaamn.

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Messing around with some logo ideas

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Update:

I have my luggage back! Which means tomorrow I will get a bus to Te Kuiti (sheep shearing capital of the world apparently, as a vegan that doesn't thrill me) and walk for an hour or so before setting up camp for the night. I won't be online for a week to 10 days depending how long it takes me to get to the nearest town. Hopefully I'll find somewhere with computers to upload some pictures from my camera. I hope the rest of your week is lovely.

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My luggage still hasn't turned up and I'm all kinds of bored. How's your day going?

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Last few days in a photoset 1. Strawberry Mylk 5.2.17 Auckland, NZ. 2. Second hand shopping 5.2.17 Auckland, NZ. 3. Albert Park 2.2.17 Auckland, NZ. 4. Hostel Chill 4.2.17 Auckland, NZ. 5. Outside the Art Gallery 4.2.17 Auckland, NZ. 6. Hexagonal Rooms 4.2.17 Auckland, NZ. 7. Red Vines 31.1.17 LAX, CA.

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10 things I have already learnt from my travels

Okay so I am currently entering the evening of day 4 in New Zealand and I am not yet on the Te Araroa trail as planned so I thought I'd give you a little update in the form of lessons I've learned so far 1. Never ever trust KLM with your luggage they will lose it before you land in L.A. and nearly a week later you will still not have any of it. 2. If you value your laptop never assume your water won't leak in your bag. Thanks to the 13 hour bath my laptop had on a flight between L.A. and Auckland all my pictures are currently brought to you via my Samsung. I will give you some much nicer ones in June though? 3. If you're staying in hostel dorms and feeling at all homesick or sad about lost baggage (see #1) always make sure you have a good cry in the shower. Later in the day there will be nowhere else for you to be alone and you will have to save your crying for another day. Probably not good for the soul. 4. Always double check what your hostel means by free wifi. 5. Do not assume that because you slept on your overnight flight and landed in your country at 7:30am bright eyed and bushy tailed that you are above jet lag. I have yet to stay awake past 9pm. 6. Air New Zealand is an amazing airline. Seriously. 7. Never assume your fellow aeroplane passengers value their personal space as much as you do. 8. Just because something is a staple in your country doesn't mean it will be cheap elsewhere. (New Zealand what's up with the price of your bread?) 9. People in hostels aren't necessarily chatty. 10. Finally, and most importantly, I can eat peanut butter and not want to vomit.

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34 hours in America gave me hope

Yesterday (30th January) I ended up at an anti-Trump rally, a rally I later learnt blocked traffic causing people to miss their flights. My 34 layover in LAX had just begun and I’d been wandering around the airport desperately trying to get my WiFi to stay connected. I was being incredibly restless because my luggage wasn’t yet in LA, my stomach hurt from plane food, I couldn’t really breathe thanks to 11 hours of air-con and I’d barely slept for 38 hours. I’d finally found a seat with enough distance between myself and other people and then I heard the chanting. Looking across the length of check-in I could see rectangles of cardboard being thrust into the air in the distance. I knew of course that it was a protest against the new anti-Muslim, sorry immigration, order that Trump has just signed and so I headed to the doors.

When I first stepped outside the rally was modest but solid. Separated from the main group, who were stood in front of the bust of Tom Bradley, were two young Muslim women wearing ID numbers. They were being interviewed by the local press whilst they held the sign ‘THIS IS WHAT TRUMP’S AMERICA LOOKS LIKE’ aloft. At first I stood on the edges, pressed against the wall, phone in hand apologetically capturing the moment. At some point I remembered the camera in my bag (I know, I know but 38 hours is a long time to stay awake for) and as the enthusiasm picked up I let myself get a little more involved. Fast forward half an hour or so and I was right in the thick of it wearing a #NoBanNoWall sticker whilst they marched through the airport, proud to be supporting them, despite my political opinion counting for absolutely nothing in a foreign county.

In all honesty, I found the entire experience totally overwhelming and were I the more publicly expressive type I would have been reduced to tears. I will admit that this feeling is probably in part to sleep deprivation (combined with really missing ma gurl already) but my brain definitely went through a lot in the couple of hours I spent with them. By and large, I felt like I was witnessing action that really meant something, action that was important. This was validated by the high police presence in the area who were not there to break up the party but were there simply to monitor the situation, and to keep the atmosphere under control without interfering with anyone’s right to express themselves.

One moment in particular that gave me reason to pause was when a Trump supporter turned up with his own sign and megaphone. (Incidentally I heard a myriad of chants from the anti-Trump protesters whilst I was there, all of which succinctly expressed that they would not tolerate Trump’s discriminatory actions, from the Trump supporter I heard only ‘Trump, Trump, Trump’ truly an inspiring counter argument.) The atmosphere changed, I imagined many of the protesters were angry but the feeling emanating from the group was not anger but passion. The energy that surrounded the march continued to grow with every ‘Trump’ they heard and by the time I left them the atmosphere was electric.

Witnessing this happen, witnessing the energy, the commitment (they continued for many hours after I’d gone back inside), the belief that what they were shouting about could actually change something was nothing short of inspiring. After I’d spent some time with these people I felt an emotion I have really been struggling to feel of late; I felt hope. At one point some of the organisers spoke of another rally that would take place outside the house of a local representative. These people were truly acting upon the way they felt, fighting for those who are currently unable to fight for themselves. Although I’d yet to actually step foot outside the grounds of an airport in a foreign country since I’d left Bristol, it seemed that the world wasn’t going to let me question whether travel is an important part of life. Just in an airport I saw a different side of the American people to what I was being shown in the UK media. Of course they are reporting the protests but they aren’t capturing what I saw, they aren’t giving these people the credit they deserve, the power that they had in those hours. I truly felt the meaning of freedom of speech. And, something I will endeavour to remember, only one Trump supporter was there, he was heavily outnumbered, the majority are still in favour of diversity, equality and peace.

(I will be uploading a video on my channel just as soon as I get the chance to be near a power supply for long enough to edit and a decent internet connection.)  

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LAX ft. some real old shoes 

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You know things are getting exciting when you have to make checklists

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The Big Yes

So picture this; it’s a Sunday evening in freezing cold Bristol, I have been grumpy all day because I get one day off at a time and I had to food shop and do laundry and not see my girlfriend much because of it, and now I’m sat in bed with her and she says the words ‘But could you still go?’ 

Dangerous, dangerous words in the ears of a perpetually restless wannabe traveler.

I only googled out of precaution. I knew the flights would be out of my price range and I’d not be able to go. But, just on the off chance I was totally wrong, I popped the words ‘London to LAX’ into that little box and hit enter. There it was, bold as anything. £445 return. Oh. 

Time for a little background here because my destination is not L.A. I will not be embarking on a 4 month beach holiday among the ‘stars’. But I will be flying to Auckland, New Zealand and completing the North Island section of the Te Araroa trail and holy moly am I excited. 

I am supposed to be in Washington DC right now, ready for a very sad, post-inaugural and Donald Trump filled birthday... but I was planning to spend the day as part of the Women’s March on Washington and that would have been something. However, due to circumstances out of my control which I am totally not bitter about (at all. Honest. Nope.) I ended up hauling my disappointed little bum off the Isle of Wight and to Bristol in November instead of catching a flight to Baltimore to meet my cousins. 

Don’t get me wrong Bristol is damn cool, but I work in Bath and 3 hours of commuting 5 days a week leaves me a little... Bristolless and also very very skint. So naturally, especially as I’ve not even been out the country since last February (!), I’ve managed to get a little bored and apathetic and lazy and very, very whiny. Which brings me back to that chilly Sunday, because whining was exactly what I was doing ahead of that question from my girlfriend. I was whining that I didn’t know what to do with my life and how to incorporate travel into my life and what career path to follow and whether to work abroad and blahblahblah. I was especially whiny about the flights I had booked to New Zealand that I was never going to get to use, or get the money back from because I always book on the cheap, and that’s when she asked ‘But could you still go?’ After some quick calculations, a look at the wages I’d yet to pay in and a squint at my savings account which has seen better days, the answer was yes.

The next question was ‘Are you gonna go?’ and that one took a little bit more of a palaver for me to answer (anxiety and decision making don’t notoriously go hand in hand) so I decided to sleep on it. But when I woke up on Monday morning, and I didn’t struggle to get out of bed and my brain felt like it was working again, I had no choice but to pop my laptop on and start writing out my resignation letter and to message my girlfriend and let her know that it was a big ole yes.