It’s been a while since my last blog post. I’ve had this story written for almost a month now but every part of me is triggered when I think about publishing it. It’s like that box containing a memory that needs to breathe. So here it goes, I’m breathing out a memory.
Stormy head, stormy skies
I remember they told us there were no buses for another two days. There was a storm over the small village of Mount Cook and we were stuck here until they decided to run the bus system again.
I wasn’t going anywhere, just like the storm. It was one thing to be stuck in a small village with only one restaurant and no exit. But being stuck in bed because everything is just too complicated to even get outside, that was another thing. I was recovering from a concussion that had happened just a few days before and I didn’t feel like talking to anyone or answering any questions. I wanted to be alone. Why was everyone around me so nice?
She could of been my mother. The morning sun was peeking through the thin hostel curtains and I could hear a soft voice in my dream. What day was it again? She asked me my name. She had such a genuine and happy energy that you couldn’t ignore her.
She invited me to go on a hike to Mount Cook, the highest peak of all New Zealand. For the first time since my accident I felt like doing something. The sense of adventure was tickling me and it made me think that maybe it was a good idea to go. Maybe it would make my headache go away.
I heard Mount Cook was supposed to be spectacular.
We walked for a long time towards the 3,764m high mountain. Apparently the weather here was often so stormy that it was common to not see the peak for days. There was nothing stopping me now, I had come this far and I was going to see the tip of this big mountain, and perhaps even touch an iceberg.
Not only did I get to see the tip of Mount Cook that day but I got to drink melted iceberg water, and make a new friend. Travelling alone can be awesome but it can also become challenging especially when things go wrong. Whatever happens and however it happens, you are never alone.
The best advice about travelling solo is to allow yourself to open up to new friendships.
I was lucky enough to meet Janice who helped me recover from my concussion by sharing her idea of adventure with me. I remember listening to her invitation as it made me realize that if she’s here and I’m here too, then let’s create moments. A friendship made out of travels is so much more especially when it helps you heal.
So thank you Janice for helping me take control of my day and for helping me turn that page I was stuck on. Wherever you are, know that you have made a difference.
Talk about it. You are not alone.