Homeless for a night

After a delightful nights rest in a real bed, yesterday morning I woke up and packed my stuff; a task that is getting harder with each passing day. The longer I’m here, the more stuff I acquire. Not an abundance of stuff but enough to make a difference when packing. After having breakfast, I headed out the door with my large pack, my day pack, and my food bag. On her way to work, Rachelle dropped me off along the main road going to Wanaka; an hours distance from Queenstown. There I stood with my thumb up. There was a fair amount of traffic and with each passing car my hopes faded. I got various reactions from those that passed; from avoiding making eye contact to a straight on stare, hands up in the air showing that they had a full car already to an encouraging smile and a matching thumbs up. Of them all, the most frustrating were those that would have a visibly empty car but would wave; it was as though they were saying, “I acknowledge you but I’m not going to give you a ride.” An hour went by. I stood there, thinking, praying, and contemplating my next step of action. It was time to put my creativity and practicalness to use. As there are along most roads, was a random assortment of trash (or rubbish as they call it here). In this collection was a large white bag with a texture similar to that of a tarp. With my thumb still up, I stood there thinking; if I could somehow write on the bag my desired destination, my chances of getting a ride may increase. To my dismay, I didn’t have a writing utensil other than a pen which would be ineffective. In my mind, I rifled through my belongings of things that may work. To your amusement and my pride, I came up with a solution; nutella. With a clever smirk, I sat along the roadside, dipped my finger in the nutella and wrote in poop brown letters: Wanaka. In less than 15 minutes, I had a ride from Frederic and Iris, a kind German couple.

With similar views as Queenstown but less touristy, Wanaka is a beautiful town. After a quick stop at the information center, I found a bench near the lake where I settled for the next few hours enjoying a gorgeous sunny Fall day. When 5 o’clock rolled around, I figured I should find a place to rest my head for the night. After quickly surveying the map, I made my way to the closest hostel. They were fully booked for the night. Upon asking for other recommendations, I continued on my search. The next hostel said the same. The third hostel was full as well but was kind enough to call the other hostels who had similar news. The Base hostel had a private room open but would cost a hefty $82; a price I was unwilling to pay. As I left, I had to use all my willpower to keep tears from spilling down my face. I made my way to the waterfront where I found a seat under a tree and a few silent tears rolled down my cheeks as the sun went down over the mountains. I was homeless. What was I going to do? As I sat there, the words of the Desert Song by Hillsong came to my head, “All of my life, in every season, you are still God, I have a reason to sing, I have a reason to worship.” I didn’t have a place to sleep but everything was going to be okay. As the light vanished from the sky, I pulled on my wool socks and recently purchased merino wool top; it was going to be a long night. Across the bay, I saw a spot under some trees that looked isolated enough that I wouldn’t be noticed. With all my gear, I trudged over and using my flashlight, found a little nook amongst some trees. I worked at getting myself settled for the night; pulling out my sleeping bag, the scarf I bought in Rotorua, the hat I got in Queenstown, and the gloves from the lost items at the hostel in Queenstown. Although still cool, thankfully the weather seemed warmer than it had been previous nights. With tree roots covering the ground, I did what I could to get comfortable. With flashlight in hand, I read a bit before calling it a night. As I was lying there silently, all the sounds around me were amplified; from my eyelashes against the sleeping bag to cars driving, people walking, leaves falling, and ducks calling. My senses were very alert to my surroundings. The longer I lay there, the more relaxed I got. This wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Just part of the adventure right? I managed to fall asleep for a while before waking up, needing to readjust from the roots in my back. This continued throughout the night. I woke up around 3am and walked 4 minutes to the bathroom. With the sleeping bag over my head, I was able to stay relatively warm except my feet. When 6am came, I was awoken as the wind had picked up. I nestled further into my nook and went back to sleep. From that time on, I woke up intermittently until I arose shortly after 8. Although not the most restful sleep, I had survived the night.

watching the sunset

My view when I woke up in the morning

my sleeping place

happy I survived the night