I stagger out of bed at 5:15. Booking early flights always seems like a good idea at the time....Chris heroically drops me off at the airport. The landing in Queenstown triggers PTSD. The plane comes down steeply along the lake from the west. My trauma started with a car crash in 1991 and came to a head during an aftershock of the 5.7 Valentine's Day earthquake in 2016. I leapt out of bed at a small quake one night with a muddled head feeling anxious and unsteady. Up until then I had been ok, but that quake was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I gradually calm myself on the walk down the road to Frankton Cemetery. It;s got a layby so is good for hitching. My sign is for Cromwell and it's only 15 minutes before a Scottish newbee picks me up. On the road through the Kawarau Gorge he tells me he's planning to settle here and I learn about a few of his past jobs. We part and I wait another 15 minutes before I'm picked up by a Peter Lyons shearing gang van. Last time I hitched from Cromwell to Alex in 1995, I got a ride with shearers racing home after a week's work down south. I was visiting from an OE with my boyfriend, David, and we were on our 9th ride from Christchurch. We waited underneath a light at the turnoff to the Cromwell Gorge. Quickest trip I've ever had down that road. They could smell their Friday drinks and had their foot down. Hitching can be like that- some relaxed rides and some that get you there.
I'm home in time for breakfast. At lunchtime an old friend, John, drops in on his way to Invercargill. Later, my third sister and whānau arrive just as I'm leaving for a swim behind the dam. There are patches of snow on the hills; no-one wants to join me. In fact the water's freezing. There's been a lot of rain in the mountains and the dam is pumping water. My summer motto...any water is swimmable, you just have to get used to it.
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| First ride with Ryan |
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| Lionel, 99, and John |
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| Family dominoes |
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