Being in limbo can be the worst kind of feeling. Take for example, if you are in a relationship: being unsure where you stand is far worse than knowing one way or the other. Or applying for a job: once that application is sent off, you just want to have the answer so you can start to make a plan. But Hayley and I seem to have found a really great kind of limbo – that space between living and working in a country, and travelling it.
For the time being, we have made the West Coast our home. This is because it feels like home, and we love it here: the mountains, lakes, empty roads, small towns, the coast road. In this way, we get to experience what it’s like to live in New Zealand – familiar drives, shops, and people; days when you aren’t seeing or doing anything new, but just enjoying the regular day-to-day things you might do at home which have by now become something of a novelty, like baking peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.
This time standing still then means that each time we take a trip, even if it’s only been a few days since the last one, it feels special and all-the-more exciting. Travelling for months at a time is amazing, but you cram in so many great things each day that they can lose their impact after a while. Or at least the smaller things do. This way, we move when we want to, not because we have to check out of a hostel at 10am. It feels like we’re starting all over again, that rush of excitement as we set off in the car for an unknown destination.
Last weekend, we took a trip down to Franz Josef, a small town made a big hit by the glacier 2km away. Walking up to the glacier, I realised how lucky we are: to feel both so at home and so out of depth in a place; to be living, but also looking for new sights every week, wanting to do new things every day, because we have the mindset of travellers. So, starting our new job in two weeks doesn’t feel like impending doom, but just a chance to make another home from home, and keep doing what we’re doing. For now, it seems to be the best of both worlds.
