Aotearoa aka the dream catcher

Dear children

(Written in Buenos Aires, Argentina)
Once upon a time in a land far far away, the earth goddess, Papa, and the God of the sky, Rangi, were so much in love they embraced each other so hard even their children couldn't escape. They set up a plan and after a long struggle and exercise in pushing their parents away, light could finally come through. Life started to take its form into the shape we know today. However, Rangi was so sad for the loss of his loved one he started to cry for days. So long his tears became rivers, seas, until they threatened the world with a flood. Their children decided to turn Papa over so Rangi couldn't see her face and wouldn't cry so much anymore. Yet, if you look carefully, you can still see his tears every morning disguised in dew drops and Papa's sighs as the early mist.

No, dear readers, this story isn't put down here to make you doze off gently, but it is a typical example of Maori mythology. New Zealand is probably one of the few countries where the indigenous people's voice is actually been heard. Maori became an official language and its culture overshadows most of New Zealand. Kiwi's who call themselves the Greater Britons, are proud to have a warrior inheritage and perhaps therefore try to keep their country as original as it was found.

During my personal journey in this magnificent country I was overwhelmed by the mystical powers nature breathes in every corner. I couldn't keep my eyes of the many wonders, couldn't stop listening to the many remarkable sounds and most importantly I couldn't quit smelling the fresh intoxicated air.

However in all this serene glory, a big red noisy spot marked the scenery. That big spot was us, sitting in a cosy red van. Because of our push starts we were quite the attraction of many little towns we visited. Kiwis noticed us before they could actually see us, but they never forgot their incredible smile. It was a different experience for me to travel this way, but most likely the most comfortable way as well. Camping made it cheaper, more adventurous and just more Kiwi. Not only Manny, the van, joined us, but Babs and I were also greeted by a good friend of mine Jochen. For the next month we would explore our boundaries and experiment as a threesome in travelling.

Although New Zealand isn't as big as its neighbour Australia, the feeling we were driving the whole time wasn't false. The distances remained huge and detours soon ended up in endless trips and missing a boat. After the rough and cold Catlins the Milford Sound doomed out of the mist. Straight from out of a fairy tale. A bit disappointed at first because it wasn't the Lord of the Rings scene we had hoped for, we stood jaw dropping on the river. This was not just a nice river between some mountains with some accidental sea lions lying at the shore. No, this was inspiring and majestic.

The clash with the (alpine small) city Queenstown was a bit weird, but due to Jochen's lovely friends and top hosts Anna, Hayden, Nick and Lou we felt homely and welcome. To most people Queenstown is known for its kicks and tricks. This was the place where I was about to fulfil my dream, look death straight in the eye and ... smile. Death smiled back at me and decided to let me live for a little while longer. The tension I felt however, when my feet were bouncing at 12000 ft, was enormous. Glad to have a strong experienced man clanged on my back (when are you not?), I looked down to see nothing but clouds. I felt my balance moving towards that awful gap and there I went, falling like Icarus, without wings out of the plane. My lips were being pushed over my eyes, but it didn't decline me of watching and most importantly of screaming my lungs out. This skydive was one of the coolest experiences in my young life and thanks to the dvd I would remember it very clearly for the rest of it.

The next events followed quickly in the next week. After a quick stop in Wanaka we made it to the west coast to encounter some wonders of nature: glaciers, the pancake rocks and heaps of greenstone. After a crazy drive through Middle Earth, we landed at the east coast to have a fulfilling swim with one of the sweetest marine mammals (yes Jochen I know): dolphins. In order to keep them at bay we had to sing for them, which they, oddly, liked. So much, they even hit on me by showing me their belly.

After a farm stay in Golden Bay where I got introduced into the Simple Life by milking cows, holding pigs and running after sheep, it was time to catch the ferry to the North Island. Wellington, the capital, welcomed birthday boy Jochen with rain, but good food, Belgian beercafes and a visit to the cinema where the premiere of The Lord of the Rings was being shown turned it into a big feast.

The Lord of the Rings couldn't quite be put out of our system. The Tongariro crossing is probably one of the most visited spots ever since the trilogy set foot in Hollywood. A vulcanic Mordor landscape continued to be our background in Rotorua, where damping pools and the devil's inkpot were common views.

Because a visit to New Zealand isn't entirely complete without a cultural experience to a Maori tribe, we loved having a Hangi (dinner be prepared under the ground) and a Hongi (sharing of breath) with some dressed up actors. I didn't like it though. To me it was just one commercial theatre that pretended to be authentic.

To lessen my disappointment I decided to look for a thrilling highlight. Jacques Cousteau gave me a hand and before I knew it I entered one of the best dive spots in the world. It appeared to be the gateway to heaven with a holy light shining right through the surface making the fish more beautiful than ever could be imagined.

New Zealand has been outstanding and worthwhile in every aspect. Although it was quiet sometimes, it did inspire me and made a great impression. I might sound boring with all my superlatives about all the countries I have visited. It seems like nothing bad happens, but to be quite frankly, it doesn't! So let's touch wood, South America will not prove me wrong.