Snow, Sun and Something Entirely Different

Good day all,

This weekend was something entirely different. In exchange for the routine Chinese and beer of home, and rock-walls and mountain tracks of Wanaka, I signed up to volunteer for ‘Adaptive’, which essentially has been two full-on days of learning how to assist people with physical, sensory and cognitive disabilities to get the most out of skiing and snowboarding.

And it has been a weekend full of fun, laughs and new experiences, all tied together with an overwhelming feeling that I was well and truly out of my depth.

I heard about the programme all of a day and a half beforehand, while on a coffee date in town, and thought it sounded incredible. And the company really is. They run the Adaptive programme internationally, and thousands of kids and adults with varying disabilities have enjoyed its benefits.  The weekend involved two days of learning how the company works, familiarisation with the technical equipment, education on specific physical & mental impairments and the practical how and what to do’s on the slopes. But with a storm that lasted 30 hours, we were confined to a Saturday indoors and with the ski-fields closed – and my clothes entirely soaked from a pre-dawn cycle into town – we had a day where I was overloaded with information, left in awe of the instructors and had a lump the size of an apple in my throat from hearing such phrases as ‘when leading a blind person down a slope…’, ‘Yep, so that’s why we tether you on, so if for any reason you get knocked unconscious, you’ll still act as a human anchor’ and a number of similar heart-pumping sort of things.

With the storm finally passed, we met in town the following day, clad in ski-gear for a day of snow, sun and something entirely different. After a 45 minute drive up to the Cardrona ski field, we reached the slopes with the sun popping its head over the horizon for its morning photo. And the views, quite simply, were spectacular.

We started the day with a few runs to get our snow-legs warmed up and to get to know the pistes. And given I hadn’t been boarding for some 18 months, I was ecstatically pleased to find I took to it like a duck to water and found myself carving down the slopes with the rest of our merry group. After several slopes, we got stuck into the practical work and the how to’s of assisting a person into a mono-ski (essentially a wheelchair on skis), loading it onto a chairlift and guiding clients down the mountain.

By lunchtime we had more or less covered all of what we needed and after a cheeky one or two more runs – and a rather embarrassing fall – I was entirely certain of two things. Firstly, that I would love to be involved in this line of work, of that I was certain and secondly, of which I was even more certain, I was going to need a whole lot more snow experience before I was to be responsible for the wellbeing of a separate individual.

The day ended with a fifth and final session, ‘Visual Impairment Guiding’. We were paired with one of us blindfolded and headed up the mountain for half an hour each of blind skiing… If you want an afternoon full of adrenaline and falls, swaying between terror and cheek-hurting laughter, I insist you try your hand at skiing blind next time you head up the mountain. Surprisingly the snowboarding wasn’t as challenging as you might expect, but for an experience that will raise your balls to your throat, try getting on a chairlift – even if it’s the baby one – with only the voice and trust of another to guide you.

So that was my weekend and it really has been an overwhelming one. Naively, I didn’t foresee the extent of how challenging and demanding volunteering would be and suffice to say, I left the slopes late on Sunday afternoon, my mind and body worked to fatigue and assured beyond all doubt that this was something I would need to come back with quite a few seasons more of experience. We descended the mountain, with the sun setting behind the snow-capped peaks and all too tired to cycle home, I pushed my bike the six kilometres back to my house, had a warming shower and fell into a deep and content sleep. And although the weekend hadn’t worked out just how I’d imagined and I doubt my involvement with the programme this season, I’m glad to have tired something that utterly petrified me, overwhelmed me and pushed me limits entirely.

'til the next terrifying experience, I'll love and leave you,

xx

Wanaka Life

Hello All,

So it’s probably about time, or more likely well overdue, that I posted a blog entry and touched base with all of you. So where to start?!

How about with Wanaka? Wanaka is a rather magical place and I wish each and every one of you – perhaps not all at once – could visit and experience its majesty. But where magic is elusive, I’ll try instead to paint a vivid picture of what Wanaka and its local Wanakleans are like.

Wanaka, if anything, is parochial. With wonderfully quaint shop names such as ‘Big tums, little bums’(a toddler clothing store), local newspaper advertisements such as ‘Stich ‘n Bitch; Craft and conversation night, every Monday from 7p.m.’, a culture of constant greeting and a population where one is on first name terms with local businesses, Wanaka most definitely earns the title of parochial. The local cinema still conducts intervals during each performance – at precisely half way through the movie, regardless of the scene or actors’ sentence - where freshly baked cookies are ready for customers to take back to their leather couches for the second half of the movie and unfinished sentence. And perhaps my favourite parochialism is that the lingerie store ‘Sassy Pants’, had its sign vandalised over a year ago and rather than correct it, the owners seem to share the humour of the vandals… Sassy Pants, is and has been missing the S and A for some time, and reads, in comic genius: ‘ASS PANTS’.

Wanaka is also a lifestyle. The quality of life is second to none and nearly all Wanakleans that I’ve met hold true to the belief that life is to be lived and enjoyed, and that work is their means of providing such a way of life. The town, in my opinion, is filled with lightness, pleasure and joy, and without the past-faced, money-centric attitude of big cities. People work to live, rather than vice versa and smiles are worn more than frowns, which is a welcome improvement to the faces of the London Undergound. 

So what have I been doing? With snow-covered peaks and mornings of fog which freeze to your jacket while cycling – no exaggeration - Winter has officially arrived in Wanaka and marks the end of my climbing season. I’ve hung up my harness in exchange for some warm gloves and a helmet, and have begun to explore the mountain biking trails which wind their way through the forests and craggy peaks. Having recovered from a bike accident 4 weeks ago, my ribs have now returned to their regular pain-free self and I’ve learned to make friends – and mostly avoid – large white vans who’d rather break suddenly and forget to indicate than look for bicycles in their mirrors. But as the saying goes ‘Don’t let the fear of being hit by a two-tonne vehicle stop you from what you enjoy’… And I proposed not to. So far I’ve cycled nearly 1500km while in Wanaka and with the beauty of the mountain tracks, I plan to do a fair few kilometres more.

And with a river at the foot of my garden – where police are currently investigating some deer hunters who decided to up their hunting experience with the addition of a high-powered speed boat -  I’ve also taken to fishing with the company and experience of a Czech comrade. And just for the fun of it, I’ve started to learn the language in return for my English lessons. With hospitality Japanese mastered and please’s, excuse me’s, your welcome’s and the customary bows and hai’s refined to perfection, Czech seemed the obvious next step in my pursuit for world domination, and my being the world’s politest dictator. So life has been rather good recently. My pace of life has slowed to that of Wanaka, as has my way of life similarly.

And with June being the quietest of Tourism months, work has slowed down from a 60-hour week – hence my recent silence - to a 15-hour week and I have plenty more time to go hiking, read a few books, make a few fires, sample a few drinking establishments, cycle a few kilometres  and more importantly, make several lengthy and much desired skype calls.

So with this brief update – it’s always so hard to write lengthy passages about lengthy passages of time, I much prefer writing about the small details of a situation – I hope you’ll forgive my recent silence and you’ll decide to write me a brief message by whatever technology we’re linked by and arrange a time for us to catch up or better yet, just call me!!

Missing you huge amounts,

Yours always,

xx

Some additional photos:

Cycling track and Clutha River behind my house.

A man's walk in wardrobe.

Wanaka's bustling High St.



A Winters morning.