I am working long unpredictable hours, on call twenty-four/seven. When there is a ship in, we work, often twelve or fourteen hour shifts. The region of New Zealand I live in, Bay of Plenty, is the country’s premier Kiwifruit growing region, and from this port, exports go to more than sixty countries. At this time of year, the company I am working for is busy playing their part in a huge and complex operation – getting the cargo from source to destination. For my part, I am concerned with ensuring the holds are filled to maximum capacity with the delicate and valuable cargo. The ships are mostly Reefers, that is to say, that they have refrigerated holds, and carry refrigerated containers above deck. On average, they have an unladen weight of around fifteen thousand tonnes, with four to five holds that go four or five decks below. These ships carry between five and six thousand pallets of kiwifruit, each one worth $3,500. It is a lot of fruit. I cannot even eat any of it – usually it is not yet ripe and is very cold. Once a hold is full, the hatch is closed and the oxygen sucked out (note to self: rule out stowaway thoughts) and the temperature is brought down low. When about two weeks from the destination port, some sort of gas is circulated to ripen the fruit, so that they are ready to go straight to the markets.
One of my weaker points is remembering names, and most days I get to work with different people as gangs are constantly switched from one place to another. Thankfully, I only need to remember two names; Bro, and Cuz. Every male in New Zealand is named as such, and a bloke can’t go too far wrong with either. Life is simple. Today I was the only Pakeha (white boy) in the hold. My gang is tattooed, built like your average All Black and have only six teeth between them. Anywhere else in the world, they might be called intimidating. However, this is New Zealand, and the locals are the friendliest people you could ever meet. They want to know all about my travels, where I am from, what I used to do, and why I am here. We get along fine, and I remember their names easily.
“What was your favourite country bro”? If I had a dollar every time…… Well, it is a common question and I guess a fair one. My answer is always the same – I do not have one. Certainly, every place provides a memory, good or otherwise. Every experience is unique, whether meeting locals, riding the rails alone or partying with newfound friends. At the time, spending an entire day trying to book a simple train ticket can seem frustrating, as can any of the numerous other moments of madness. But looking back, I value those as much as any other. The very essence of travel is about change, about the unexpected. It is good to begin with a plan; however, being flexible and open to change is key. This journey did not end the way I wanted it to, but it does not matter. The proposed one-year trip became two, I got to work and play in some great places with some special people, and the end came recently with even more surprises.
So there is no one favourite, but a collection of memories that will stay with me forever. The big ones might be living with nomadic Mongolians in their family ger, walking on the frozen expanse of Siberia’s Lake Baikal, or riding that motorbike through Vietnam’s minority villages. Collectively, the little moments are just as important to me. Being chased by an angry terrier (big dog in a small body), not getting off a train and entering/leaving a country twice, catching a big fish and sharing it with the boat owner and his family over dinner. They go on and on, but you will be pleased to note that I have no intention repeating them here and now! Many will remain in my thoughts only, the rest are included in some thirty-four journals that make up this website.
Talking of websites, I have grown quite proud of this one. The Wander Years is my first, and most likely, my last website – it began with a simple desire to record the journey and share it with friends and family. As it would turn out, the vast majority of regular readers would be complete strangers, and I now get emails from all corners of the globe. Surprising how some of these people have come to show more interest in my travels than others! I remember that long winter when I sat down on my dial up computer and started to build the pages – I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I am always grateful to friends who looked over those first pages, and the ones who where honest in their appraisal. Fiona pointed out my badly clashing colours; in fact, I had broken just about every web design rule there is. I may still do that from time to time, but at least you don’t need sunglasses to look now. I wish I had kept one of those early pages, to compare now.
So here it is, as desired, a complete record of my trip, and it even helped to secure that final month of writing/travelling for WorldNomads, another bonus unplanned for. Additionally, I gained far more out of it than this; my grammar and spelling may be as poor as ever, but I have at least learned to be more concise (What? You think this goes on? You should see my early journals)! While it has been a significant amount of work to keep up to date, it has given me a focus, a reason to keep busy and to look more closely at things. I am the sort of person that needs that – travelling to me is about being on the move, not laid in bed all day long, just because you can. Well, not always.
What next? Well, I am glad to be in NZ. I know the country well, have already spent long enough here, but this time it is different. I have to stay still for a while. Like all returning travellers, I have an overwhelming lust for the normal things in life. To wash my own clothes in a machine. To shop in the supermarket. To cook a meal, open a bottle of wine and watch some TV. I am gradually getting out of the habit of turning my underpants inside out to go another few days. To go to work, and see my bank balance rise instead of fall. I plan to get a dog very soon – for me there is no greater commitment to settling down. It is a statement, in Timo world – it says, “Look, I have a dog, I’m settled”. I’m sure a bank manager will agree when I approach him for a mortgage! I am a way off yet, still need a house to call my own, a few (quite a lot, actually) domestic appliances and a girl. All in good time.
Meantime, I continue to work long hours on the ships. I am actually enjoying it, meeting crews from the Philippines, Korea, Japan, Europe, India and Pakistan. It is almost as if I am still travelling. Interesting smells waft from the ships’ galley and different languages to be heard. Each time a vessel is loaded ready to sail, I feel a tinge of sadness to be left on the wharf as she is manoeuvred out into the channel. The crew look on, probably feeling equally sad that they cannot stay in this cool country. I guess I have the better deal. Outside that, I am taking up business classes two days each week, and doing as much hunting and fishing as possible. Long term, I have some great options, but as always it is a matter of timing, luck, and keeping the bills paid. Unfortunately, I am in no position to divulge what is probably my most exciting news. It is too early, and would tempt fate to mention it now. Let us just say I may get to do something similar to what I have just done, while being paid. Additionally, I have a little business idea, hence why I am attending classes. Great to have these options, but also a little confusing. Sometimes, I wish my life were more simple, work nine ‘till five and all that – but then, I think I would die very quickly. |
