I’ve been in New Zealand for a few days. I haven’t accomplished much, I’ve mostly visited several new coffee shops, and developed an intimate relationship with my new bed.
Being here isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Setting up even the simplest thing, like a bank account takes about 16 hoops to jump through. And of course, you need a bank account before you can get a tax number, and you need a tax number before you can work. I know this will all be worth it when I finish, but right now it is mostly just frustrating.
To top this all off, I am turning 31 today in a land where I don’t know really anyone. I am lucky enough to have met a few people through a fabulous online community known as “Girls Love Travel.” But I can’t count on these people to throw me any sort of celebration. I do have one friend here (you may know her as the famous Expat Edna), so we are doing something, but the event will be much smaller than the narcissistic shindigs I am used to throwing myself in the states.
But, I need to remember: I am turning 31 in NEW ZEALAND. This was the dream, the adventure I set out to have. Things aren’t going to be a super happy fun time right off the bat, are they? And I think I found my go-to coffee shop today, so that’s a big plus. It is called “Memphis Belle” and it is in the funky Te Aro area of Wellington. They play loud music, the furniture is eclectic and the staff is incredibly friendly. The vegetarian sandwich I had was to die for, and their coffee among the best I have had here. (Plus they have almond milk, which I have found is hard to find here.) 9.5/10 would recommend.
Am over the full moon for you, Amiekay! I’ll be 63 in October, and even with all the years behind me, and the learning I’ve supposedly done along the way, I don’t think I’d have the courage to make the leap you did. I’m having trouble convincing myself to travel outside the state by myself.
I remember the 90s nay-sayers when I went to NYC to take some classes and act. I had some talent, yes. but I discovered I’d held onto grit I hadn’t realized was there, and a flame of passion no one could dim. Except me and my insecurities.
Seven years later, I came “home” because my dad was really ill, and my depression had re-surfaced. Thomas Wolfe was right when he wrote that “you can’t go home again”. Yet you’re making home where YOU want it to be now.
Please give yourself a round of applause. And a standing “O” for making a dream come true, then sharing its reality with us. Wishing you many blessings and serendipitous moments along the way! ~Patti (aka, grizzled stripper Electra)
Patti, thanks so much for this encouragement! It’s definitely not as easy as I thought (and much much colder.) But it is an adventure and I do have to remind myself on a daily basis that I am in New Zealand and that is pretty amazing. I recommend traveling outside of the states so much; everything is just a little bit different but also very similar. It’s quite an experience and I think everyone should do it. And hey, you currently know someone in New Zealand. 🙂