German

A few days ago, I was thinking about time. 

The difference a year can make...

It can take a frightful night and turn it into a wonderful story to be shared with friends.

Time can make reality seem like a distant dream. 

It can change perspectives, personalities and love.

LOVE! 

Time has such a strange way with love, it can hold tightly to it, or let it fly away to rest with the forgotten or unmentioned moments of your history. 

I am discussing this with you now, because I have a story to tell you. 

BOY DO I HAVE A STORY TO TELL YOU!

But, time... it's a funny thing, although this happened almost six months ago, it still seems so precious. So, perfect, that sharing it seems personal, and exciting. I don't mind sharing personal things on this blog, that's why I made it, silly!

I guess

 I just don't know how this story ends, which makes it seem unfinished. 

So, in my handmade journal that I took with me everywhere on my travels this spring, lies a story... 

A story that goes a little something like this:

This is the story of my German romance in New Zealand

I was dropped off in a small surfer town on the western coast of New Zealand. Left on the side of the road in my only pair of clean clothes and my dirty backpack weighing down my heart and my body. I had come to this small town in search of adventure and myself. But when my fellow travelers dropped me off I instantly felt lost. I had no idea what I was doing in this small town. On a whim and random recommendations I had followed the curvy back roads to here. Here, being Raglan. A summer surf town where every store closes at 4:00 and most of the houses stay empty for the majority of the year. Barefooted and backpacked, I tried my luck and asked a local if there was a hostel near by.

A New Zealand native with a thick accent told me about Raglan Backpackers, the only and best place to stay. A place that was "sweet as" And, wow, was it. As I checked in, I noticed the hammocks, hot tub, community kitchen and the gorgeous view of the bay. A sweet Swedish girl named Anna showed me around the place and curiously asked me more about myself... I noticed that everyone I saw seemed to already know each other, and if they didn't they were asking. The new faces and accents were as vast as the ocean around us. As I dropped off my heavy backpack in the 12 person dorm room that would be my home for the next week, a brown haired boy, with skin the color of cream toffee and eyes as clear and green as the deep sea smiled at me from his bunk.
The first thought that went through my head as I picked my bed and settled in was something like: "Oh, no you don't girly, not again."
As I found myself giving my heart a mental pep-talk I grabbed my stuff as quickly as possible and ran outside. Headed for the black sand beaches, knowing that fresh air and squeaky sand was the best remedy for a fluttered and cluttered head.

When I got back, his alarmingly white teeth were there again, "We're having a barbeque tonight, would you like anything?" He said in a thick German accent.
To be completely honest, I don't remember what I said, (partially stunned by his good looks, and partially in awe of his kindness) all I know, is that watching him cut up potatoes, mince garlic and de-stem rosemary was better than most New Zealand sunsets. He smiled with such ease, laughing at the little things and danced around the kitchen as he cooked. His friends and him cracked jokes in broken English, sliding back into fast German when they got deep into discussion. For the first time, I found myself wishing I spoke German. How did I not notice how sexy it was until now?? By the end of the night, I was so rapped up in his charisma, that I found myself saying that I wanted to learn to surf. Tomorrow.
Wait, I said WHAT?
Not only am I deathly afraid of the ocean, but I am one of the least likely people to be found in the water when there is perfectly good sand to be suntanning on nearby. But, with the help of my new German friends, I found myself wiggling into a wet suit the very next day.
I only lasted about 45 minutes in the water, getting pushed, bashed and shoved to the bottom of the cold, and fierce ocean... before even getting on to the board. But, I say to this day, that 25 dollars was worth seeing his warn body strip out of a wet suit later that day.

 

That night, I drank a bottle of wine, and laughed as him and his friends sat with me by the cool ocean on the path down to the ocean. Listening to country music for the first time (for them) and watching his two friends getting higher, and higher. Giggling more and more as the night got darker and the clouds passed over the moon. That night, I noticed his confidence. He sang and danced with an ease that is hard to find anywhere. We held hands for split second, then went our separate ways for bed. 

The next day, we wanted to see who would get tipsier off one bottle of wine (my tolerance being at an all time high) The whole day was spent hot tubing in the rain, playing Australian football, (which included a little bit of flirting and way too much giggling on my part.)

That night, I learned more about him than I have most people I have known for years. It was raining out, and so we sat under a porch, listening to the rain, and to songs on an i-pod and shared stories about our past, present and future. I learned that he is one of the middle children of four kids, he sang "Oh Christmas tree" in german, just the way my grandpa sings it every year at Christmas... It went back and forth like that for a long time, the deep stuff, the dreams and worries, the laughter and giggles.
It was a full moon, he kept looking at me under deep, dark lashes... I knew then that we were going to kiss. I was scared, as I usually am, that in one single second it could all be gone. The excitement, the magic, the smiles...
But then we kissed.
We kissed and I forgot my name.
I forgot where I was and I forgot how to breath.
My head floated out of my body and watched the whole thing take place.
The way he put his hand on my neck, the way he looked at me.
The way he whispered that he could kiss me forever.
My head watched it all.
And I felt like the happiest girl in all of New Zealand.
Me?
He liked kissing me?
Frizzy haired me?
He did! And we did, until we fell asleep holding each others hands tightly. Both. Because one was not enough.

The next day was another spent on the beach, me, thinking through my life (as per usual) and him, showing off his talent on a surf board. We held hands, built sandcastles, and ran down the beach screaming at the waves. Even looking at him made my heart flutter.
How did this end up happening? This feeling in my heart? And did I really just have tonight with him?
After dinner we went for a walk, he hold me about his sisters, his life and the stuff that I usually avoid talking about with guys, the stuff that hurts for them to share. Yet, it didn't have the same weight as some peoples stories. His love for his family emanated out of him when he shared stories about them, and I could tell then that the crinkles around his eyes from smiling were permanently there. We shared one last night kissing and whispering early into the morning. And then, as soon as it was here- that feeling- those feelings- he was gone. Our last morning together was spent holding hands, kissing sweetly, trying to put unsaid wishes and intentions into each kiss. Each look. As I walked him and his friends to the bus stop, my heart hurt and ached. We shared our last look and kiss on the front steps of the Raglan library. And then my German romance left.
He was gone. Gone away.

The Good Ol' Days.

I love looking at pictures from my trip. 

They bring back distant, yet vivid memories of a simpler time... 

A time that didn't smell permanently of sunscreen and goats. 

Ahhhhh 

The good ol' days. 

No, but seriously. 

I love looking at my pictures from New Zealand, Wales and Australia. 

They make me super happy and excited for the future. 

Here are some of my favorites at the moment... 

Some updates so far!!

I can not believe it has only been seven days since I arrived in the Auckland airport. This past week has been one of the longest of my entire life. It may have to do with fact that I have fit more into a week than most people fit into a year, or perhaps it's the fact that since I've been here I haven't been able to sleep past eight. What ever the case, I've been productive and I like it. Quick update on where I am now? Right at this very moment I am sitting in the child's section of the local library. Local meaning a small surfer town on the western side of the north island of new Zealand. Raglan is the name, beauty is the frickin game. It's the most beautiful spot here. Simply incredible. While all of new Zealand has been stunning at ever turn and breathtaking at every new sight, as soon as I stepped on the black sand beaches here, and checked into the CUTEST backpacker joint, I knew I would be spending more than a few hours here. So four days it is. But, let me rewind a bit... I flew into new Zealand on the 1st of may, took the 45 minute shuttle into downtown Auckland and stumbled out of the bus with no inkling of a place to stay or what I would be doing for the next 27 days. As walked down the crowded streets of Auckland I stumbled into Nomads, a well known hostel that I ended up staying at for two nights. There, I met two girls from Canada, and a boy from Holland, all of us with one goal in common, to see the most of new Zealand for as cheap as possible. So, in the course of two days, the boy bought a van named Oscar, the girls bought a cooking stove and some utensils and I learned to read a map. We headed out on twisty highways to the hot water beaches of cathedral cove. cooking dinner, drinking beer and learning details about each others lives that I don't even know about my closest friends, slowly, we zigzaged down the east coast, stopping at hobbiton, where lord of the rings was filmed, more and more beaches, one crazy night in Hamilton and finally here, where I realized that as much as loved traveling with a group, I wanted to experience the thrill of striking out on my own. So, here I am. Learning to surf and playing soccer with some new German friends, planning my next big move and in complete shock that it's only been 7 days.

Travel Update!

Hello there everyone!
(For those of you who still check this thing, congratulations. You get a very special gift from my travels when I return home.)
This last month has been a complete mad-hatter of a time. I honestly have no idea where to begin.
It has been one month and (seven?) days since I have written a blog post. Yeah, I know. You may be asking yourself how I survived. Well, to be honest, it's been challenging.  This last month has made me very concious of my addiction to social networking sites and I have been working to rid myself of the need to feel self important by posting something silly for the world to see. The good news is, I no longer think in Tweets, Facebook updates or blog posts. Go me.
For the sake of keeping you all updated on my travels and future plans I going to share with you here the email I just sent to my family.

Hello everyone!!! I just wanted to write a quick hello and update you all on my travels so far, as well as my travels to come... As you all know, I flew into Sydney on the 25th of March. What you may not have known is that I was scared shitless of leaving such a loving community and family to venture into the unknown. But, travel and grow I knew I must so I packed up my gear into a small backpack and headed into the wild.
When I arrived in Sydney I instantly felt a connection to the people, places and smells around me. My first day was spent at a craft market helping Kate (the women I was staying with in Sydney, and one of the team members at Play in the Wild!) sell her incredible hand-made books. The fashion, the vendors and the accents were all too beautiful. The next week was full of fun, making myself a journal in Kate's workshop, planning Play in the Wild! activities and spending quality time on the white sandy beaches of Sydney.
When Catherine and Jesse (the founders of Play in the Wild!) arrived, planning Play in the Wild! along with Dialogs of the Heart ( a Nonviolent Communication Training that we did the weekend before camp) became our top priority. The adventure continued as we packed up our gear in the Rav. 4 and drove the 14 hour trip to Brisbane.
Play in the Wild! was amazing experience for every youth and trainer involved. We laughed, cried and danced our hearts out in the green bush of Oz. The trans-formative week reminded me of how much a community and individuals can share and learn together when a container of love holds them all.
As we said our tearful goodbyes, we all parted ways two saturdays ago, going back to our prospective homes around the world, taking with us the feeling of strong love, support, community and friendship.
One more successful Play in the Wild Youth Intensive under my belt.
The next few days were filled the brim with site seeing of the Sydney Opera house, relaxing on the beach and trying to regain my voice that I had lost due to allergies at camp. (Think Marcel the Shell type voice.)
Then we hopped on another plane to Melbourne for Catherine and Jesse's wedding celebration at a beautiful wildlife sanctuary. The wedding was on Sunday the 29th of April, surrounded by Dingos, Kolas and NVC trainers. We danced our hearts out and ate purple cake. It was a perfect way to part ways with friends and family, celebrating the love and connection that lives in us all.
Which leads me here: one more day until I am in Auckland, New Zealand. 28 more days until I am in Wales and a month and some time until I am back in the Capay Valley in California USA.
Thank you so much for supporting me on my walk-about, and know that wherever my travels take me, I am thinking of you and how fortunate I am to have such incredible family and friends. See you all soon! XOXOX
-Hannah Rose.