Dreampt it, designed it and now, it’s not long to go do it.
Hello August … we have waited patiently for you to arrive.
The below editorial featured in The Press ‘Escape’ section on the 12 July 2018, written by Lorna Thornber.
Cantabrian couple Brent and Claire Ruru had been living in Dubai for two years when they decided they had too little time left on the planet to waste it wearing themselves out in the corporate rat race.
They had moved to the United Arab Emirate after raising their children and building a successful childcare business in Christchurch, but their new lives amid the shiny new skyscrapers of the desert city felt about as authentic as the snow on the ski slopes in Dubai Mall.
Brent, 52, says of his senior management role developing policies and procedures for a global logistics company: “I was driving to work in a square box, looking at a square box to generate square boxes for a bunch of squares.”
A year in, Brent was sure this wasn’t the way he wanted the rest of his life to unfold. Claire, 48, who had initially struggled to find work and had finally secured a role with the New Zealand Consulate, felt they should stick it out a bit longer.
A year later, in 2011, they’d sold the furniture in their apartment to their landlord, shipped their sentimental possessions back to New Zealand and left for Turkey with just a couple of backpacks.
The plan was to hike from Istanbul to Gallipoli (their travel style is probably best described as free-spirited, shoestring-budgeted and slow-paced), walk famous Spanish pilgrimage trail the Camino de Santiago and trek to see critically endangered mountain gorillas in Rwanda before returning to New Zealand. When a friend joked that they may as well climb Mt Kilimanjaro as well, they decided to take him up on it.
“It was very impromptu and before we had researched any facts about it being at altitude. All we could imagine was standing on the rooftop of Africa,” Brent says.
Friends told them they were mad for choosing to walk from Istanbul to Gallipoli, where Brent’s poua (grandfather) may have fought in 1915, when it was just a five-hour bus ride. But the couple saw it as a good way to transition from life in the fast lane to a more comfortable, contemplative plod.
The intention was to walk up the motorway toward Gallipoli and hang a left when they could to follow the Marama Sea coastline the rest of the way. They’d only taken about a dozen steps when Brent says they began cursing, “asking each other who’s bleeping idea it was and saying “jeez our packs are heavy”. I was carrying 19 kilograms on my back and six on the front; Claire had 17kg on her back”.
Arriving in Silivri – a city on the Marmara just outside metropolitan Istanbul – three days later, the pain in their upper thighs was so acute they believed it was no longer purely muscular, but skeletal.
“I couldn’t walk for the next two days and honestly believed our trip was over before we had barely started,” Brent says.
They laid out all their worldly possessions on the bed at the hotel that had fortunately found room for them and threw out everything but the barest essentials. It was, Brent says, the beginning of an ongoing mission to live simpler, less materialistic lives.
They walked through raw countryside dotted with villages where men sat outside drinking coffee and smoking while the women worked the fields, staying in cheap digs they came across along the way.
“Every now and then wild dogs would approach. The walking stick became our only defence, wobbling it around like a taiaha. And screaming loudly to scare them off. It did.”
There were a couple of incidents that riled them (they discovered they were staying in a brothel one night and Claire narrowly avoided a snake bite on her nether regions after venturing into the bush to pee) but they arrived in Gallipoli certain they had made the right life choice.
They did as all Kiwis do in Gallipoli, sleeping at Anzac Cove and attending the dawn service.
Brent’s journal entry that day was a poetic tribute to his poua:
“Although we never met, I know who you are,
My grandfather who went to Gallipoli, a land of distance far.
We came to see for ourselves, where you spent some fighting time,
To expose ourselves to history, and imagined how you shined.
The walk was hard and challenging but we made it all the same,
It was the least one could do, to honour the family name.
Anzacs are spoke of highly, so we commemorate and remember you.
From all the Ruru whānau, as they stand proud too.”
They had expected the Camino to be more of a physical adventure than a sentimental or spiritual one but Brent says the centuries-old trail seems to exude a “spiritual ambience”.
Walking from the village of Roncesvalles to Pamplona, of Running of the Bulls fame, they were surprised by how little their fellow “pilgrims” knew of New Zealand – and how quick they were to claim their countries did things better.
“Territorial banter is quick to assert world dominance status,” Brent says. “People from above the equator think we live upside down below and a number think we are a state of Australia and have no cars and ride horses. But it became more bull… banter after a day or two, taking the p… out of each other with smiles and laughter..”
In this way, he says, they became firm friends.
In Pamplona, the couple switched their hiking boots for bikes, arriving in Santiago de Compostela, where biblical apostle St James is said to be buried, after 16 days. Still having “ages” before they needed to be in East Africa, they decided to head back the way they had come on foot so they could run with the famous bulls.
By this stage, their backpacks weighed 7kg each (although Brent carried an extra 3kg on his front) and they were feeling lighter in more ways than one.
“This became foundational to us embracing the minimalism culture and led us to mapping out living in a tent on our eventual return home,” he says.
One day, they came across a young American woman who was dreading returning to her routine existence as a hairdresser. As they walked, Brent inspired and persuaded her to quit her job and start up her own business in Spain.
“She went to the nearest town, purchased some scissors and for five months walked up and down the Camino trimming pilgrims’ hair. All because we had that one conversation… We just never know how [a conversation while travelling] might turn out.”
It is conversations with strangers that give Brent the greatest pleasure while travelling.
Chatting to the porters, clad in jeans and business shoes, while climbing Kilimanjaro, the couple discovered they were fascinated by the All Blacks and held ex-player Jonah Lomu in particularly high regard.
“When they found out I could do the haka, I was asked to perform it every day after dinner,” Brent says.
His final performance took place at the summit and, once they were back down, he says the porters, whom he’d been teaching the moves, “performed a native song and haka in response.
“Those are the experiences that bring a tear to the eye when you reflect on them, long after the goodbyes are said.”
Their eventual return to New Zealand brought mixed emotions, including renewed gratitude for their homeland.
“We have a paradise in the left-hand corner of the Pacific”, he says, which allows you to lose yourself in its “playground topography”.
However, he says they experienced a kind of “reverse culture shock”, feeling that they had changed fundamentally on their travels whereas some they knew had simply aged. Things they had once deemed important, and others still did, no longer seemed to matter.
Determined to continue living more simply, they secured a permanent site at Christchurch’s Spencer Beach Holiday Park, pitched a family-sized tent and furnished it with a leather couch and TV set. Worried the water that pooled inside the tent during heavy rain would wreak havoc with the electrics, they soon upgraded to campervan, which became their home for the next four years.
“Our backyard had a beach, our lawns got mown for us; it felt like we were on holiday and we made friends with other permanents and outsiders who camped at the park,” Brent says.
While some told them they were crazy for giving up their life in Dubai to live in a caravan, Brent says “the number of people who have communicated that we have got life sorted has grown markedly. Crazily in fact.”
These days, the couple live in an 80-square-metre “over 60’s unit” that’s so cost effective they’re able travel overseas regularly. Brent has retrained as a celebrant and does freelance illustration work, while Claire has become a contract bookkeeper – jobs that enable them to pack up and leave whenever they like.
Since moving back to New Zealand in 2012, they have volunteered in an orangutan sanctuary in Borneo, trekked up to Mt Everest Base Camp, ridden cross Canada on a tandem bicycle, staged a mutiny on a Cambodian cycle tour when the organisers asked the “impossible”, watched the sunset over the Temples of Bagan in Myanmar, released baby turtles into the surf in Sri Lanka and followed the Te Araroa Trail around the North Island.
“We are just a couple of baby boomers who have worked out what matters most and are chasing it,” Brent says. “While the bodies still can and we still have our marbles.”
His advice to others considering a similar lifestyle: “Commit to going for it, cost it out travelling budget style, save hard, go do it and repeat. The rest will fall into place.” That and “bugger the Joneses”.
CHEW IT, CHEW IT, CHEW IT
Cycling the length of New Zealand to raise money for a stranger on a hospital waiting list.
Finished the manuscript to the next book, illustrations in progress. Thought I would give you a glimpse as to the story captured, weaved and hopefully, not to long before ready to share.
“Bite off more than you can chew and then, chew it”
There were two details I remember.
Cameron our son stating the sentence and, what was said.
“Wouldn’t it be cool to cycle the length of New Zealand.”
It was 2004. He was fourteen at the time.
I had just finished reading No Opportunity Wasted written by Phil Keoghan and was working on identifying my eight steps to getting the most out of life, as challenged by Phil. Thanks to Cameron, the Test Your Limits step now had a purpose. And meaning.
Cycle the length of New Zealand to raise money for a stranger on a hospital waiting list.
Writing it down made it official. It gave it substance. More so, a focus.
Naturally, the voice on one of the shoulders was having a great time playing on the thoughts that we were biting off more than we could chew.
However, the other voice on the other shoulder was equally whispering, “chew it, chew it, chew it!”
When instinct pushes us to explore, we push boundaries outside ourselves; when we test personal limits, we push boundaries within us.
And so, we did.
All the other details are captured as follows.
Whatever your boundary, push beyond it.
The chew is worth it.
Claire and I recently signed up to volunteer for the Foundation for the Blind and, take visually impaired members out for a ride on the back of a tandem.
Our first ride had us pedal a ‘stoker’ (that’s what they call the pillion passenger) from Lincoln to Little River, on a dis-used converted railway line connection, now a cycle rail trail.
My member had never ridden a tandem before, let alone the distance being approx. 44 kms one way, and so was absolutely thrilled to make it the whole way. A grin of achievement – a grimace of a sore bum however, it was worth it.
Claire’s member rode both to and from Little River meaning over 80 kms on the bike seat. So did Claire actually making up the tandem numbers! Her member was as equally euphoric.
I rode the tandem bike back without passenger for moral support.
This would have to have been one of the best micro-adventures we have ever involved ourselves with.
To enrich. To be enriched.
Playtime is not only for children.
If you ain’t going dream it – design it and go do it, then what items will you place on your casket to represent your life’s passions? Some words shared after conducting a funeral earlier in the day …
Today here in New Zealand, we commemorate those fallen soldiers who fought for our freedom in global conflicts throughout history. Called ANZAC Day, it stemmed from the campaign during WW1 on the shores of Gallipoli, Turkey. Brings back memories of us walking the 370kms to Gallipoli from Istanbul to attend a dawn service there back in 2011.
Today though, it was one here in our home city of Christchurch.
The sound of the bugle being renditioned always has the hairs on the back of the neck stand to attention.
Then, making the most of the autumn day, it was a walk along the beach, a little adventure that is free.
Perhaps because of those that fought for our freedom.
So, lest we forget.
Switching out and switching up during today’s micro-adventure made for a far greater reward in a better food nourishment choice and, a more spectacular view.
The destination was the same – feel goooooooood.
Isn’t that was life is about?
Find a purpose to get out there on a micro-adventure and then give it meaning by doing.
The reward might be a sausage roll which adds substance to what you end up doing.
Once swallowed of course. After chewing. Which is before purchasing. Because you ventured.
I’ll stop now.
Perhaps our first instinct is to check our calendar or diary to see what’s on when asked to join a mate or friend or just people doing a micro-adventure activity in the outdoors.
The question becomes, can you re-arrange your schedule so that you can get out an do it?
Sure it takes diplomacy when the task may involve a third person. Or even if it’s a special day.
The conversation can be a heck of a lot more fruitful when you are out of breath doing it … you don’t speak so much BS, that’s for sure.
Try this challenge of accepting an outdoor activity for the next 21 days when asked, by moving your diary around to participate. As much as you can to be adventuring, whilst you still can.