Getting lost on the North Shore

 

Trip to North Head

Technically a month late with this story but it was something I wanted to wait to share. Basically the day started off myself and few friends sorting through sheets of biological material searching and counting various things in the water for a biological project. It ended up with myself walking around for hours stranded on the beach and without a ride back to East Auckland.

Rather funnily it winded up being one of the more greater things I have done in a while, being stuck somewhere with no car, no person to contact for saviour, on a beach with a backpack and water bottle and a 5% batt phone..  is something maybe we all should do more often. It was certainly not planned but gave me the chance to lie down and think and walk and walk for a while with no real purpose but to enjoy what was around me.

It was quite the scene, the sun was bright and strong then later starting to set. There were the backyards of very expensive houses lined with porch swings and tyres. The water was gone and in the far distance sat a very timid volcano. There was a line of stairs that led to a view unmatched to anything I had seen. Each house, everything looked as a small town in a movie would, brushed with white picket fences and what I would believe to be many gardens filled with children’s play. I wasn’t quite sure where I was but the place seemed so far from home so quiet and very separate to the busy highway not far from it. I just walked and walked till I couldn’t really get any higher than I sat and slept on my backpack praying someone at home remembered I was in the North Shore and seeking a ride home.

13575656_10207870762060537_1252492769_o

I never really understood people who say they love to travel to be lost, but maybe this is what this all means. Being lost isn’t so bad you actually end up finding more things than if I were actually trying to find a beautiful beach in the early winter period.

My parents used to tell me that as a child I would frequently disappear, run off to do some more exploring and it got to the point where once in a mall I went off on my own , got lost playing among the clothes and wound up getting my parents in some seriously questionable parental trouble as I told officials my parents left me. Not such a bright spark when the next minute your parents are getting calls from other relatives saying your child is seeking help in a rather large South African mall.

In New Zealand I did this for fun, I would run off and get security guards to announce on PA systems that a Miss Denisha was lost and can’t find her parents. Years later however the concept of running away and being actively lost seemed crazy yet is something I feel could lead to some exciting adventure. Maybe adult me should take a hint from my old self and get lost a little more and wind up being found but holding much more than a routine life could bring.

Climbing

Looking for more chances to get lost

Denny