The Milford Track

Just a few from the hundreds (perhaps thousands) of photos I've taken whilst living on the track.  On one of our leaves from the lodge (we do go into civilization every now and again before cabin fever set in), me and Zim decided to walk the entire track as a walker.  As well as getting envious of all the people describing areas we couldn't walk to in a day, it was also a great way to experience everything the walkers have to go through before reaching us.

I cannot express how jaw dropping the scenery is on this track, so perhaps I should just show you. It is amazing how much the scenery changes in just one track.

The time I fell apart in Christchurch

Before I reached Christchurch, I thought I had a good understanding of what I'd find.  It may have been three years since the infamous earthquake hit the city, but local news had informed me that this place was still knee deep in rubble, insurance backlog and major construction.

We arrived in the early evening, travelling all day by coach.  After walking (what seemed like miles) to our motel, me and Zim decided to go for a walk around the city centre, or the 'red zone' as it has become known.   It was a beautiful Sunday evening; a sure sign that summer was on its way.  In this once bustling city centre, the scene was the closest to apocalyptic I have ever seen. Some areas were completely cleared, you'd never of suspected a multi-story building, filled with busy offices, once lived.  Other areas were just mounds of rubble, chaperoned by bull dozers and cranes.  Then there were the derelict buildings, with half missing chunks.  Some buildings seemed totally intact, and yet, they were completely abandoned.

As all the construction workers were away from this scene, the place was deserted.  We shared the streets with a few people, just shapes in the distance. This, in the biggest city in the South Island.  Perhaps it was due to the time and day we came to Christchurch and the still weather, but my first impression of Christchurch was eerie.

Over the next few days we went about our business and got things done. I had my breast biopsy and ultrasound, we found a cool 'scaffold' bar to drink in and hung out in the botanical gardens, which I must say, are the most beautiful public gardens I've been to in a long time.  But it’s an incident near a busy road that will stay with me forever...

So being the tourists we are, we went looking for the Cardboard Cathedral.  After the demise of the Cathedral, a pop up one was quickly constructed to help the community in their time of need.  It’s not every day you see a cardboard building, so we went off through the devastated city.
About a block from the Cathedral, we found the memorial. There are many memorials in Christchurch but this one stopped me in my tracks.  On a cleared area stood nearly 200 white chairs; 185 to be exact. It seemed every type of chair possible stood in that area. Stools, rocking chairs, modern style and antique all placed together.

Its when I saw the baby seat that I just lost my shit and begun to cry; in broad daylight, in the middle of the street.  Try as I might, the tears wouldn't stop.
A chair for every person who lost their lives, tailored to their age, personality and lifestyle.

The abandoned red zone was creepy, but this was the real tragedy from the earthquake.
I have seen many memorials throughout the world, whether its for a great battle praising sacrefice and valor, or a dedication to a local legend, but nothing has hit me as hard as this one.  The artist showed such dedication and care for the victims, to show that they were not just a number, that they lived, breathed, felt and loved.

In that moment I felt the unfairness of it all, that this could happen and there was no one to blame.

I would never take away my visit to Christchurch. A wounded city, that has lost so much but felt so very human, with its regeneration, ongoing construction and wish to honor its loved ones

The seals of Kaikoura

Found on the east coast of New Zealand's South Island, the small township of Kaikoura is a pretty special place.  Not only is it a landscape where sea and mountains meet, it also posesses unique access to whales, dolphins and other marine life.  Due to very deep oceans just off the coast, animals such as sperm whales, which are usually found far away from land, come to feed. 

But when I spent a few days in Kaikoura, I didn't go and swim with Dolphins or spot giant mammals from a boat. I took pictures of Seals. A lot of pictures.

I just think seals are awesome.  In the water, lazing in the sun, from pup to bull, it doesn't matter.

I think they are so cool I even payed to swim with them.  Taken out on a boat to where the inquisitive adolescents live, I spent hours watching, dancing and playing with these amazing creatures.  There is also nothing so cute as over twenty seal pups playing under a waterfall.

I think they are by far my favourite New Zealand Mammal.

The lump in my breast

I’ve been contemplating this post for a while.  Half a dozen times I’ve started writing about the lump in my breast and then drawn a blank. So please bear with me if my writing is a little disjointed and much personal than normal. But I want to be honest, which isn’t always the most beautiful word out there.

It was just a slight touch, a quick sweep of my hand across my breast plate.  That is how I found my lump; in the kitchen, cooking up dinner for Me and Zim.  By the time he got home from work I was already a nervous wreck.  'It’s probably nothing' he told me, but I didn't sleep all night.

The next day I went to the Doctors. 'It’s probably nothing but you'll need to run some tests in Christchurch' they said. It would be over a week until I'd be leaving Queenstown and heading up north.    That’s when my imagination really went into overdrive.  You see, my brain has this coping mechanism, where it goes through all the bad scenarios I can think of. That way, perhaps I'll be a bit more prepared; maybe the worst news won't be such a blow.

Visions of Cancer were everywhere. Coincidently, 'breast cancer awareness month' had just started. Pink ribbons were being sold on every street, Cancer was discussed on every TV channel and I was even confronted by a giant pink bra in Wanaka. On a couple of occasions, I did internet searches on breast cancer treatment, survival rates and even wig options.Yeah. I did that.

 All the time I kept asking myself the same question: What if its cancer?

Of all the things that entered my head, one answer panicked me the most.  If I was sick, I'd have to go back to England - very quickly.  It wasn’t the idea of the U.K, with its kick ass sense of humor and endless cups of tea that frightened me. I love England – it’s the country that raised me, where the majority of my family live and has un-confusing clothes sizes.  It was because it’s a country where Zim, my partner, wouldn’t be able to go with me, at least straight away.  In England he would be the foreigner and have no legal right to work.  The idea of going through something terrible was bad enough, but to loss him too was just too much.  Later, in the middle of sleepless nights the really wild and crazy thoughts seeped in. I thought of painful chemo, losing my hair, becoming infertile and dying before my time.  I prayed to a higher power out of sheer desperation.  For the first time in years, I was petrified.  This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. Cancer happened to other people; Friends of friends and the aged.

It was this event that was the catalyst for my lack of blogging.  All my excitement and enthusiasm for our impeding trip across the south island and our adventure to the wilderness went out the window.  How could I talk about plans that might not happen?  I could only thing about my lump and couldn’t really say much until the biopsy was back.  It was only after we left Queenstown that I began to relax and find some peace.  Even with the giant bra attack in Wanaka, the change of scenery helped me unwind.

When we reached Christchurch, the apocalyptic setting of rubble and damage did little to calm my nerves, but getting the ultrasound and biopsy out the way did. I realized I was doing everything right and whatever the results said I could make it work.

Just before my job in Fiordland was set to begin, the results were in. The lump was benign - the most beautiful word is the world.  No cancerous cells were detected. I was free to stay in New Zealand.

In turned out my breast lump was not a story of cancer. It was one of over-reaction and wild speculation.  I learnt that breast lumps aren’t always Cancer, they are just there, which by the way media NO ONE HAS EVER TOLD ME. Do an awareness week about that some time.  With the news I felt shame. A dear friend just lost a parent to cancer and here I was, just getting my knickers in a twist over the idea of the disease. 

On the whole, however, I felt so thankful to the universe; for my freedom and the ability to stay on my chosen path. I’m was thankful for having a loving family, that even though I was thousands of miles away, gave me so much support.   And I knew, from my over the top worrying, that what I’m doing right now is what I want.  I’m not drifting aimlessly; I’m experiencing and exploring this planet in my own sweet time.

It’s not hard to see that my anguish awaiting the test results was pretty much self-inflicted, but the whole ordeal has, in some ways, changed me. I’ve spent the last six months putting those changes to the test.  I don't want to just exist, I want to live. I want to take part in the world around me and do the things I always said I would.  I want to look after my body, treat it with the respect it deserves.  But most importantly, I want to fill my life and those around me with happiness and love.

So here's to following happiness, with my lumpy boob in tow.

Helen x

Image from here

Where I've been whilst my blog slept

Ah old friend, its really been too long.  And all this time I've missed you, really I have.  This blog is just a drop in an ocean of electronic information, a feeble little thing chronically this human's life.  But I've missed our catch-ups, at having a space just for me.

For five months I haven't been around. For the most part this is due to my move to New Zealand's wilderness, where Internet is not an option. And its been fantastic, completely switching off and doing all those things I've been putting off like reading books again and running (yep I run now, believe me no one is as shocked as myself).

If I'd really tried I know I could have kept updates going. I could of scheduled posts while I was away for six weeks and then spent my leave weeks scrambling about putting it all together.  But I didn't want to. What I wanted was to engross myself in my surroundings and if I'm honest, get my passion back. Well I found it.

This is Fiordland -  my beautiful home for the past few months.

In my lifetime, I've experienced some amazing sights, but nothing could prepare me for the natural splendour that is Fiordland national park.  

With two more months left of my seasonal work, this blog will remain on the quiet side for a little longer, but I will return.  Bush life has got me feeling a lot more creative and there are some exciting times a head.

See you in a little while,

Helen x

11 days away...

All has been rather quiet on the blog front as we took a brief holiday to Kaikoura. Stopping in Wanaka and Christchurch on the way, I've been enjoying the life of a holiday maker.  Going fishing, long bus journeys, eating seafood and swimming with wild seals (my new favourite animal) has been my life these past eleven days.  Lots to tell but for now I'll leave you with this lazy seal and Kaikoura's amazing mountain range.

 My silence has also been a little longer than planned after my laptop decided to break.  The WiFi doesn't work anymore so I'm back to internet cafes and less frequent posts.

Now we're back in Queenstown for a few days, preparing all the bits and bobs before we head to the Milford track to start work.  I'm currently trying to shift my brain out of holiday mode and into working, but still my head is filled with seal pups and overland travel. Wish me luck!!!!

7 bloggers that are awesome

        *Picture from here

I love blogs and reading about the lives of strangers.  I'm kind of weird like that.  Although I read a variety of blogs, there is a pattern forming from the ones I really love. It seems I like blogs that are a personal journey, following the blogger's life and passions. Most are travel blogs but I just can't connect with ones that solely concentrate on tips and country counting. For me, I want to relate to the posts and be able to see how people are going about their adventures.  I'm a sucker for chronology  and how people's lives are evolving as they go about their business.

So without further a do, here are seven bloggers who have inspired me and been a bloody good read:


Rika at Cubicle Throwdown ditched the office cubicle in Canada for life on the Honduras island of Roatan.  There she lives the uber-cool life of a dive instructor, enjoying meet ups with  dolphins, hammer head sharks and the occasional whale shark  Rika does a great job on highlighting the realities of expat life on a small island, showing the good, the bad and the ugly.   Plus, she comes across as pretty great person.

Jill at Battered Suitcases has shared her experiences teaching in the middle east, traveling Australia for a year and now her current move to Morrocco.  Her posts are not only insightful but some really brilliant photography.  I especially love her 'From the hip' segments, which include some great spontaneous photos from around the world.

Scarlett at scarlet in wonderland. If there is any blog that was put on the world wide web to get people out of a bad mood, this would be it.  A life style blog for those who don't take themselves too seriously, Scarlett's narrative can make the most mundane activities hilarious.  The Liverpool lady is planning on heading to Oz next year and I cannot wait to read what happens...

Alli from Illustrated adventures spent last year travelling from Shanghai to Edinburgh by land. A gifted photographer, her posts through Eurasia are incredible.  Many of the locations and sights she documents I had never heard of but makes me want to go. Badly.

Jaime at Memoirs of a Pilgrim.  When I was in Australia, I came across Jaime's blog. At the time I was looking for other foreigners living in Oz, but even with her move back to the states I am addicted to her exceptional photography and glimpses of her adventures. I was especially envious of her job with a kayaking company.

Taru at the World Tour Stories is on one hell of a journey. Sailing the world with her partner Alex, the photographer/model captures her lifestyle, travels and passions.  After reading some posts I've had a google-fueled search binge on deckhand positions in the Caribbean that has lasted hours. This blog is probably the most 'professional' blog I follow, however don't let  the glossy photos fool you.  This blog often lets slip how living the dream also has is set backs - costly refits being just one.

Charlie at the Couch Potato Chronicles, is a very good friend of mine.  One of the best people you'll ever find.  She is one of the most well traveled people I've ever met and yet, her beautifully written posts haven't even got to the independent traveler extraordinaire yet, she is still chronicling the family holidays that scarred her for life and made her the sexy beast she is today.

So there you have it, seven blogger I want to thank.  Thank you for inspiring me not only to travel, write and take photos, but also to celebrate my life and adventures.