Wandering Downfall

It's 5:00 am and I can't sleep.

Maybe it's because I'm still a bit jetlagged from the 41 straight hours of travel I recently survived. From Auckland to Hong Kong to London to Munich by plane, to a small town called Immenstadt by train and then to a tiny village called Kranzegg by car in the middle of the mountains in southern Germany. Somewhere in between I pulled a classic Rachel move and lost my wallet and a little bit of my heart. The wallet I can find through the airlines, the heart piece I'm pretty sure I left in New Zealand and will be much more difficult to retrieve.

Or maybe I'm awake because my head is flooded with memories from the last month. Pete, Crazy Carl and I left Queenstown at the beginning of July, boosted up to say goodbye to Nelson and my Kiwi family there then headed to the North Island. A few days out and about in Wellington with James and Stina, through Napier to Taupo with it's beautiful lake and hot springs, up to Rotorua which smells like rotten eggs, and west to Raglan, a small hippie community and surfers paradise. (*Note: If I ever dissdisappear the face of the Earth, you can find me in Raglan.) Up through Auckland to Whangarei, Kerikeri, Paihia, Kaitaia and all the way to Cape Reinga, the northernmost point of New Zealand. Back down and around the Coromandel Peninsula for a few days and back to Auckland to pick up my shiny new passport and sell Crazy Carl with a tearful goodbye. Harder still was saying goodbye to Pete at the airport and leaving the land I have grown to love and think of as my home.

Why I tend to leave the people I care about most at airports I will never know. That will be my ultimate downfall, the fact that I have got on every single bus, train and plane I have ever bought a ticket for. How many times should I have stayed? How many happy lives could I have had, if not for this insatiable urge to move, travel and grow? Whether it's a genetic defect or just itchy feet, it drains me physically, mentally and emotionally every single time I go. It's heart-wrenching to know, as I step on the plane, that I might never come back or see those special people who have made me a better person ever again. It's one of many sacrifices I have had to make, again and again, to enjoy the freedoms I enjoy and the life I have chosen to lead. And here I am, staring out the window at the sunny, green countryside of Germany, smiling and looking forward to my next adventure.

Tomorrow I leave to start work as a language assistant in a kids summer camp. I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to do, but that's nothing new is it?