NZ Hike Day 11: Queenstown..more goodbyes

I woke up really early today to get my stuff together, which was a feat after last night. You know when you get to the end of a journey and all of a sudden, somebody changes the rules of gravity, and walking becomes a chore, your legs feel like they have 20 kilo weights (yes - I'm going metric!) attached to them and you feel like you're on Jupiter instead of Earth? When you realize how tired you are after just a couple of beers? Last night was that night.

I strategically (AKA in a stumbling manner) maneuvered myself around the 2 pieces of the room floor which I could still step on, without stepping on my roomies' clothes, with the ultimate goal of getting outside the room to take a shower. I also simultaneously heaved all my backpack and other stuff outside the room, because one of my pet peeves has become the 45 minute rustling of plastic bags as fellow trampers repack before they leave at the crack of dawn, while the majority of everyone else is trying to sleep. The biggest packing issue turned out to be my boots which had ratcheted up the level of stink from the tannin laden stream water they had absorbed over the last 10 days. I made the odious but correct decision to carry them instead of packing them and let them air dry, and tied the laces onto my daypack.

Them's some good fish!

Officially the hike was over yesterday but some of the gang was still together due to most of us staying in the same hostel. Khanh, Steffi and I scurried over to Joe's Garage, recommended by a local over Vudu Cafe, which is what the Lonely Planet was touting, for a leisurely breakfast. It was at Joe's that I learned that pikelets are not some weird fish dish the Kiwis have for breakfast but are small, silver dollar sized pancakes served with jam, which I promptly ordered and devoured.

Some bittersweetness ensued after breakfast, as I bid a final goodbye to Steffi and Khanh. Trips like this one highlight for me the need we feel as humans to connect - we were strangers 10 days ago and I was saying goodbye to 2 friends, who I would love to meet up with again and explore. We will see.

At this point I had roughly 4 hours left in Queenstown and under a day left in New Zealand. When this whole trip started I questioned whether I was taking too long a break. I think we're conditioned in the US to feel uneasy over extended breaks. What we accomplish at work for many of us defines a large portion of our lives - we feel out of our element if we're disengaged from our professional lives. My dad also added to my initial uneasiness with a comment along the lines of: "you're taking how much time off!?". I can safely say at this point that the pendulum has fully swung the other way. I don't want to leave. Work is becoming the alarm clock set to go off at 5am that I keep on waking up every half hour during the night to check on.