No day begins too sweetly after dancing in the ache

Hello from ever bountiful New Zealand, land of the hobbits, windy roads and apparently, schizophrenic weather. This is my first post for the long fore mentioned blog I have been buttering you guys up for, so I hope I haven’t unlearned the art of storytelling after an unplanned writing hiatus. Stay tuned for more narcissism. (guaranteed)

Quick travel update: Frankie and I drove around the North Island of New Zealand on our first week, spending first-world levels of dinner money in Auckland and then surviving on portable stove-cooked lunches and the freshest Kale and buttery avocados ever. We have been on the South Island for about a week, doing the same, but in better weather, and are going to round it all up on a culminating birthday weekend in Queenstown, where I will turn older than I feel, and possibly consider doing something impulsive, such as jumping out of a plane, or off a bridge tied to a rope, in an effort to feel young again. Such is life, but it is good, undoubtedly.

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Meanwhile I hope you enjoy this photo of me looking like a thrice-wrapped burrito, and yet, still barely feeling my fingers. I was one wind chill away from frost bite here, but absolutely soaring from the climb up Instagram-favorite Roy’s Peak, 1578m in the clouds, with a stunning view of Mount Aspiring and glassy Lake Wanaka – arriving at the crack of dawn, after stepping on rabbit-poo and trying to find our way in nothing more than the light of a half-moon.

Title: song lyric from Candied Daylight – Jennah Bell

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