I got invited last year (in a large indiscriminate email) to a week long kayaking trip down the Whanganui river, to take place at the end of January.
I’ve always wanted to do that particular trip, but knew in my heart of hearts I’d never get around to organising it. So, this seemed like a golden opportunity. I agreed to come, knowing that as the time got nearer, I’d try to weasel my way out of it as being too stressful for one who has become accustomed in later years to more luxurious forms of travel. I have managed my anxiety about the imminent trip by trying to forget about it over the festive season, so when an email arrived in my inbox a couple of weeks ago, with more details, I was sent into a spiral of panic.
The email, with a detailed packing list, is several pages long. I could feel my eyebrows rising up into my hairline as I read. Here are some highlights.
What is this about? Surely one benefit of being in the middle of nowhere is that at least the water will be clean. Disappointing.
25 litres seems a lot until you realise the suitcase I usually take on holiday (no sleeping bag required) fits 100 litres. This thing here 🙂 is an emoticon, which is what we Gen Xers used to use in the several years between the introduction of emails and texts, and the emojis that our smartphones have gifted us. They seem cute and retro now, although slightly sinister in this context.
I could have done with an emoticon at the end of this sentence. Something like this 😉 would have reduced the anxiety level significantly.
So, toilet paper is an evil vice that is destroying the planet and an example of the sinister commercialisation of society by our corporate overlords. Dammit. This is what happens when you travel with earnest hippy vegan types (who have done all the organising of the trip, to be fair). I know, I pick up after my dogs on every walk, but carrying a packet of my own excrement with me for a day feels quite the mental leap from chucking a poo bag into the next rubbish bin whilst out on a short stroll. It seems a bit rich when all the cows on our dairy farms are crapping indiscriminately in every waterway, but there you go.
No explanation needed. Who needs showers when you can bathe in a river, you might ask? Unfortunately, using soap or shampoo in open bodies of water is strictly verboten according to DOC guidelines. The hippy vegans will strictly enforce this I’m sure.
I was feeling quite overwhelmed, and was ready to try and weasel my way out of the trip, as predicted, particularly when in my scheduling job I discovered we were very short at work over that time, which would have gifted me the perfect excuse to bail. However, luckily I have managed to persuade one of my daughters to join the trip. I may have left out a few of the less appealing details, such as the poo bags, but she’s signed up now so it’s too late for either of us to back out. In any event , we’ve had quite a bit of fun spending large amounts of money at various camping shops this week, and I’m loving all my new merino gear (thanks Mons Royale!) so I can honestly say I’m looking forward to it now. At the very least, it will provide me with plenty to write about. Unfortunately due to the lack of cellphone coverage, you’ll have to wait until I’m back to read it.
