So lonely and deep in contemplation
So, more than a month ago, I went to Queenstown, New Zealand alone because I wanted to experience solo travel and New Zealand is such a beautiful place. I talked about the trip itself in one of my previous post, hence this is part 2. In this post, I'm going to reflect and talk about lessons from this trip.

Let's start off with what I've learned about solo travelling:

Google Map is my best friend (sorry, real humans)
Without Google Map, I would be lost in both the direction sense and the "what do I do next" sense. I didn't want to spend the entire of the trip doing touristy stuff. I wanted to explore and take long walks and experience normal things like going for a swim and going to the library, just in a different environment. Generally, I want to behave both like a tourist and like a local, although the latter is more of a superficial thing.

The point is, Google Map tells me everything, from what there is in my surroundings to how to get there to what is around where I want to go to how long to get there. I depended on it so much. Without it, I would probably spend most of my time in Queenstown Central and I would probably take more foolproof options of taking the bus rather than taking a walk.

But then there's always the fear: What if Google Map is gone? What if I lose my phone or run out of battery or, for some reason, the internet no longer works? I guess the bad thing is that it's easy to depend too much on Google Map. Sometimes, we have to depend on our own brains.

It's lonely, but I had to embrace it
Before I went for the trip, I was so sure that I could handle it. It was going to be so fun and I would be too busy doing things to care that I'm alone. Obviously, I was wrong. The moment I reach Sydney airport for the transfer flight, I already begun questioning myself and missing having people I know around me. But I also realise that it's freaking New Zealand and instead of wasting it feeling horrible, I should just go out there and do things that I came to do.

So, it helps, a lot, to have very clear goals. I wanted to take lots of photographs, experience emotional growth, function more independently, experience spiritual growth, explore a lot, go to non-touristy places, do some touristy stuff, and have lots of fun. Every day, I planned what to do the next few days and then I took my time in everything. Sometimes, it felt like I was just finding ways to waste time, but in finding ways to waste time, I managed to discover certain things and places as well as just soak in the atmosphere.

Me being me, there was hardly a time when I didn't feel lost, confused, paranoid, worried, etc. The loneliness and lack of assurance made me think of my friends. When I walked pass a busker playing some OST, I would think to myself: CX would love that. When I looked at the typical kind of shirt that I would wear, I remember Matin telling me "it's so you." Sometimes when I didn't know what else to do, I would ask myself, "What would ___ do?" But most of the time, my answer would be "but that's not me. I'm not gonna do that."

At the other end of the spectrum, it allows me to actualise who I am. There were times when I would actually ask myself, "What would Shaw do?"

I spent way too much money distracting myself
This is actually my biggest regret during the trip. I was unprepared, so I spent too much money on irrelevant things so that I could spend time. The Underwater Observatory was a waste of money; the taxi tour, though wonderful, was a tad bit expensive; and deciding to spend $50 watching a Maori Performance hadn't been in my plan until I realised that the only alternative was to sit on a chair and wait one hour for Stargazing (which got cancelled due to clouds). Had I been more prepared, I could spend a little less, somehow. My favourite part of the trip - the trekking in Ben Lomond - was free. Perhaps I should've also done less touristy stuff and spent more time on exploring. This leads to the next point.

I regretted staying in one place
Queenstown is amazing. The scenery is wow-worthy, but you know what's so tragic about it all? I got used to it. I got bored of it. Had I did a little more research and expected to be bored, I would've planned to go the Christchurch. I totally had the time. But staying in a single accommodation the entire trip and the fact that the airport is in Queenstown made a side trip to Christchurch impractical. If I could redo it, I would plan it properly.

I guess I didn't expect to be bored because I was too used to Singapore. If I had to spend a week exploring Singapore, I could. The thing was that Queenstown is different in the sense that there were much less settlements. There were no skyscrapers, no big shopping malls, and no random recreational stuff. It was a very touristy place, except there weren't much to shop. Christchurch, from the looks of it, is more suitable for shopping and it seems bigger as well. It's a different kind of beautiful from Queenstown.

It will probably help, next time I solo travel, to be on the move. It was a bit hard in the South Island of New Zealand because it is mostly mountains, farms, houses, and all that. Perhaps I'll pick a more urban kind of environment for a different kind of experience next time. I thought Matin's planning for our Taiwan trip was perfect - the first part was spent in a mountain (I forgot its name), the second was spent in a touristy farm, and the last part was in Taipei.

Travelling is not fun alone, but it's still awesome
When I say travelling alone isn't fun, it might be off-putting and some people might disagree. But I mean it. Still, it's the kind of thing I will keep wanting to do again. I'm thinking of maybe India or London next, but we'll see.

The reason why I'll still travel solo is because it's a wonderful experience; wonderful doesn't have to be fun. Wonderful can mean eye-opening, satisfying, enriching, masochistically pleasing, and so much more. Fun is just not part of the equation for me when I think of solo travelling. I will no longer expect it to be.

I'll recommend journaling
Imagine having a journal keeping track of all the places you've been, what you did, what you observed, what you learned, and what you feel everyday. Imagine one day flipping back and reading it all again. It's my thing. I enjoyed scribbling down everything I could think of and remember every night, especially smaller or private moments I would not share in my blog or in social media. In a way, it also eases the loneliness because when you have no one in your immediate surroundings to share your experience with, writing about it is a good substitute.

Also, I used my journal to attempt to keep track of my spendings, refocus myself, and remind myself why I was there. On the day when I arrived, I just wanted to lie on the bed and regret coming, but then I started journaling and remembering about all the things I was so looking forward to. Yeah, journaling is really good.

Okay... That long chunk above is the first part of the post. Here comes the second, which is about general life lessons:

Every country is different
When I arrived at New Zealand, I couldn't believe how close the mountains looked as the plane tried to land. They weren't close, though. They were just really big. But it came as a surprise (it shouldn't have) that the place I was going was 95% mountains. The environment was mostly untouched, the water was clean, there were so many things that they could use for tourism and farming and all that.

Obviously, other countries are different.

I feel relief and happy arriving in Singapore's Changi Airport and hearing the captain announce, "The building is very big, so it will take a while to get to the transfer flight." It made me chuckle a little inside.

Then there are other countries like the neighbouring Malaysia, which was filled with forests in contrast with New Zealand's mountains. There was Australia - the view of Sydney when the plane took off was another kind of beauty, in the form of endless suburbs.

It made me ponder how each country managed to define themselves and make themselves interesting. Some countries are blessed with mountains, some with forests, some with strategic location, and so on. Some didn't have to do much manual work while some had to spend years and billions building; some could afford to while some couldn't.

I managed to arrive at these questions: Should we embrace what we are or should we build more upon it? What are the consequences of building more, and what are the consequences of not building more? How do we utilise what we are?

Bringing this into the context of our small little existence, it kind of becomes the question of changing ourselves to become better people versus nurturing what we really are. There is this discomforting thought: What if we're born without advantage?

I always believe in being nice to the people who "aren't good enough".

Everything can be taken for granted
New Zealand was so beautiful, but after five days, I just went like, "Let me see some buildings already!" It leads to the conclusion that when we're bored of something, we're probably taking it for granted. That doesn't mean we can instantly switch our mindsets and suddenly become appreciative again. A person with great deal of control over his mind can do that, but not everyone.

Instead, sometimes it's good to have variety to spice things up. Back in Taiwan, we had nature, then half nature, then full urban experience. Similarly, we can't just experience one thing the whole time in our life. We can't just spend all our time with one person or watching TV. Things need to switch around for us to not take them for granted.

I'll not make solo travelling that huge a part of my life. This way, I'll cherish each experience, like how I still cherished Taiwan till now, or Melbourne, or Japan, and so on. They're all different experiences and I hope they stay different. Still, I can't wait for the next time I travel.

Labels: overseas, reflection, solidarity