Goodbye Sydney

People universally tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you’re fortunate enough. But that’s not how happiness works. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax maintaining it, you must make mighty effort to keep swimming upward in that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it. If you don’t, you will leak away your innate contentment. It’s easy enough to pray when you’re in distress but continuing to pray even when your crisis has passed is like a sealing process, helping your soul hold tight to its good attainments.

This would be my final blog. My Sydney days are over. Many thanks to those who made my stay pleasant and warm...

To my Kiwi gal Jovanna, for always having a glass Vila Maria ready for me, introducing me to Sydney night life, and helping my put my feet on the ground when I was struggling to adjust. 

To my co-star Linda Ngo, for spinning with me throughout Sydney, and brightening my day with her warmth and generosity, and making me smile and laugh sincerely with her happiness, goofiness, and with merely being uninhibitedly fashionable. 

To my Swedish friend Nadja, for her company in many of our adventures, in broad day light at the beach, bush, and city, but also in night time, her easiness to smile, always guaranteeing me to have a good time, and above all giving me a stunning surfer hair style. 

To my Wisconsin roomie Cassie, for being an inexhaustible source of inspiration in the kitchen, being my Clovelly beach companion through times of thunder and sunburns, and of course for all the gossips we shared about our favorite topic: the dramatic landlord couple.

To the entire Garvan Institute staff, but of course particularly my supervisor Kylie.  

Finally, to the provider Virgin Mobile, for allowing me to make free, endless, geeky science phone calls to my dear Dutch friend Lianne in Brisbane.

I cherish all the moments we shared and wish you all the best. I hope our paths will cross again in the future. 

Lastly, of course, thanks to all my loyal blog readers who have stuck with me until the end! 

Time to go home :) 

Vincent. 

Doubtful Sound

Monday we went on an overnight cruise through Doubtful Sound. Known for its beauty and wildlife, Doubtful Sound is the second largest fiord in Fiordland National Park. There are just a view areas in the world where no human has ever set foot. More than 200 days of rain a year ensures not a tree branch to be left bare and brown, moss is present everywhere. The entire forest is intensively green. In order to get there, we had to take a transfer boat to cross lake Manapouri, and a bus to take us to the cruise ship. We started with delicious muffins and we were sailing through this beautiful environment at 13:00 P.M. The entire atmosphere had something magical. There was this distinct smell, and the unspoilt wilderness was mysterious and mist-cloaked. I felt like I was sailing through a fairy tale. As if elves could start to pop up any minute now. It even reminded me a little bit about ''Droomvlucht'' in the Dutch amusementpark Efteling, however this was real. Magical. After a while we started with the water activities and I chose to do kayakking. It was surreal to be kayakking in such an environment. Of course I wanted to have the full Sounds experience, so therefore I also dived into the cold water. Interestingly, these mountains catch a lot of clouds and therefore a huge layer of fresh rain water is covering the top of the sea water. Therefore, it attracts a wide range of marine life, even 4 meter sized white sharks. Luckiky, I was not aware of this until after I dived into the water. But because of these circumstances, the water is really dark. The buffet was amazing. This cruise is known to deliver good food. It was true. In the evening we played Pictionary with a bunch of people and that was so much fun. The next day, it was raining intensely. However, in Fiordland this is a good thing, because the steep hills were showing hundreds of waterfalls as a result. I felt like the mountains were crying. At some point, the boat turned off its engine so that everyone could absorb the scenery in silence. It was unbelievable: dark, black water, hundreds of waterfalls, mist mysteriously moving through the mountains. It was an amazing experience.

Mountain Cook

 After we hitchhiked to Tasman Glacier, and did a day walk to Hooker Valley, we were ready for a bigger challenge. We decided to do an overnight long walk to Mueller Hut. The Mountain Cook Village, named after British explorer James Cook, is a cute, but cold village, which does not have a supermarket or an ATM machine. We basically lived of cookies, chocolate, white bread and potatoes because of our bliss ignorance. The village resides at 700 meter altitude and is surrounded by big snowcapped mountains, of which Mt Cook is the biggest with 3800 meters. Our hiking destination the Mueller hut was located on top of a mountain at an altitude of 1800 meters. This meant that we were going to climb a rough 1000 meters up a mountain! Early in the morning, after we made our preparations we went to the visitor center to purchase our hut tickets and to rent a sleeping bag for myself. Onno already bought one in Queenstown. Suddenly, renting one was not possible any more as of that day. Ah well, armed with thermo underwear and merino woollen vests I was not that concerned. How cold could it be? The ascending started with many, many stair cases. Halfway the mountain, the track became more difficult to climb. There was no longer a clear pathway to walk on and we had to climb up on rocks and little stones. Slowly, more and more snow started appearing. Before we knew it, our ankles were deeply covered in snow. The last hour was tough and we kept slipping away as it was also quite icy. 

Once on top, we were rewarded with the most amazing view I´ve seen so far. The hut provided a 360 degree panorama encompassing glaciers, ice cliffs, vertical rock fares, and New Zealand´s highest peaks. It was a great view for hearing and seeing ice falls, avalanches (=lawine), alpine sunrises and equally unforgettable sunsets. The cold at night was unbearable. We were sleeping at night with a lot of degrees under zero. The old and scruffy blankets did not provide much comfort. The next day, descending the track was really difficult which resulted in a lot of falls and slidings. However, at some point I was in a flow and jumped from rock to rock enthusiastically. I felt like a waterdancer from Game of Thrones series. I bragged a bit up in the hut about the fact that I like to think that I am rather athletic and therefore experienced no problems during the hiking. I am glad these people did not witness my intense muscle pain for the following few days. Honestly, I could not walk for two days after this hiking track. I am still limping today. But it was worth it.

Lake Tekapo

I physically collapsed at the town Te Anau and stayed there healing in a cosy homestay hostel called Rosie’s. I guess my tiredness of post-internship period with a mixture of traveling anxiety had caught up with me.  In addition, I guess that is also the price you have to pay for paradise: foreign pathogens. Luckily, I was not suffering from fever. I just caught a rather intense cold and my muscles were very weak. I spend some quiet days for a week inside reading my book. Fortunately, I was feeling much better when I left Te Anau to meet up with Onno in Queenstown. It was really nice to see each other again after being six months apart. My solo traveling days are over, and now I have a traveling buddy for my remaining days. It’s nice to have a companion here. It was unbelievable, but I really needed to adjust myself into speaking Dutch again. I am rather talkative, but due to not having spoken Dutch for a while now I just kept stumbling on a lot of words. We had one day to spend in Queenstown and we took a gondola to Bob’s peak, which granted us a nice view of the valley in which the city lays.

 The following day we took the bus to our next destination: Lake Tekapo. This lake has a very characteristic turquoise colour. Interestingly, the ice glaciers of the mountains that shape this lake crush the rock particles with such a large force that it creates dust particles through a grinding process. Consequently, this rock flour sediment floats on the glacial melt water and refracts the sunlight beaming down with a blazing turquoise colour. Later that day, armed with torches we made our way in the black of the night to experience the region’s glorious night sky from atop nearby Mt. John. It was a very clear, quiet night and a lot of southern hemisphere stars were amazingly revealed.  After doing a beautiful four hour hiking track the next day, we soaked our tired bodies into the hot pools of Tekapo. Now we are staying at Mt. Cook village. To be continued…

Queenstown and its Goat-Woolen-Sock couples

I just had encountered my first panicky situation in New Zealand the other day. After my body found regeneration in the Hanmer Springs Hot Pools I made my way back to Christchurch with the evening bus. I stayed there for only one night, because the next early morning I had to catch my bus to Queenstown. So that morning I made sure I was at least 15 minutes prior to departure time at the bus stop. I must say, I am actually becoming a rather organised person. My teenager years filled with chaos are behind me now. I have all my important papers sorted in folders. I know exactly where and what to do for any given time. Nevertheless, I thought it was highly peculiar that no-one else was present at the bus stop to Queenstown. Maybe Tuesday morning was just not a popular time point to travel. In addition, I comforted myself with the reasoning that New Zealand is not really dense populated. It still felt weird, though. I looked in my organised papers; I was sure I was at the right spot. Then, at the time point that the bus should have departed it suddenly had hit me: I remembered vaguely that I received an e-mail a few months ago about a change in bus stop. I totally had forgotten to pay proper attention to that notification due to busy times in the lab. Strikingly, it all made sense to me. I had to run to the entire other side of Christchurch towards bus stop Canterbury museum. I like to think that I am a rather athletic person. But running with an 18 kg backpack on your back, and a 5 kg backpack on your front is still quite exhausting, especially if your breakfast only consisted of one banana. (I was going to make sandwiches on the bus).

I could not pay any attention to the pity that was expressed on the many faces of pedestrians when they saw me struggling to come forth. I dreaded every unnecessary clothe piece I had to bring to New Zealand. ’’Cause, I like to have options when I am getting dressed (!)’’ Admittedly, I am not the world’s most practical backpacker yet. Luckily, the bus was delayed. Thank you. I was sure that this very fortunate lucky moment was due to my new bought Maori necklace calling to the Kiwi gods. This necklace is namely supposed to bring luck particularly when traveling. What a great investment that was! Everyone in the bus was laughing at me when I came crawling into the bus with my last breath, sweaty all over, and limping like a retard. But I did not care! I made it. Even though sweaty with sore muscles and hurting feet. The bus ride was at least lovely and relaxing. I had nine hours to recover from my morning exercise.

I saw so many green mountains, and blue-ish, green-ish, turqous-ish clear lakes everywhere. I witnessed a beautiful sunset at Lake Wanaka. It felt like the bus was driving through a painting. I arrived in Queenstown in the evening and its location is just beautiful. I feel like I am being repetitive, but yet again, the city was surrounded by large mountains. Half of the city body actually lays on a mountain, with at its foot a huge lake with clear water.

The hostel is a bit bigger and more commercial than to my liking, and I don’t like the fact that you have to walk outside to reach the bathrooms, but nevertheless I had a good night of rest. Also, the view of the hostel's garden is stunning. The next morning I found a bookstore that sold a book I was desperately looking for, and craving for to read for days: Clash of Kings, second novel of Game of Thrones series. I just had the biggest smile on my face, that it actually had hurt the corners of my lips as they are rather dehydrated due to the dry atmosphere. But who cares about the moist state of my lips, I finally have the seemingly rare book in my possession! I spent the entire morning reading at Queenstown Gardens with a beautiful view.

(I tried to get a panorama shot of this view while I was reading. I like to label the picture as artistic, which secretly functions as a hidden synonym for being failed) Next I wanted to do a nice hiking tour, I had three options with different grade of expertise required: very easy, the Gondola to Bob’s Peak; easy to moderate, short 900m climb to Queenstown Hill; difficult, 1748m climb to Ben Lomond. In order to make this decision, I was observing the state of my body while walking back to the city. I noticed shaky legs, lightheaded, sweaty back and a rather weird taste in my mouth. Therefore, I decided to take the very, very easy grade of expertise required option: sleeping in hostel. I was starting to get sick! After an intensive fruit infusion, and spending a rather quiet day in the hostel (at least I did laundry), I'm hoping to feel much better in the morrow. It might be a smart thing, once fully recovered, to then take the gondola to Bob’s Peak, amongst the elderly. Little baby steps.

The next day I wasn’t still feeling very well. After attempting to tame the mountain Queenstown Hill I made a 180 degrees turn of shame back to town. My body just wasn’t fit enough yet to climb 900 meter. Argh! So I treated myself with a cup of coffee in the sun with my desired book. After a while, a goat-woolen-sock couple was sitting next to me. (I think this is not the correct term in English, but the Dutch will understand me). Upon asking me what I studied, I suddenly found myself defending Science. This couple obviously disliked Medical Research. I had to defend statements such as, ‘’60% of all FDA approved drugs work only through placebo effects’’ and, ‘’ When a drug gives side effects that already indicates that the drug is not really working.’’ So annoying when facts become fabricated! After explaining the intensive procedures, which take up ten years, involved for getting a drug on the market in which you have to demonstrate safety, toxicity, and treatment effects outweighing the importance of side effects. More importantly, that every scientific study performed compares the drug with a representative control group in order to exclude merely a placebo-based effect and thereby ensuring therapeutic potential of the drug. Also, by even defining the term significant difference in Science to ensure that the observation is caused by a therapeutic effect and not by placebo-based effects, they replied, ‘’Yes, that is how it should work. But that is not always the case.’’ Yes-It-Is always that case! I thought best not to mention the scientific articles arguing that actually most of the alternative treatments work through placebo effects. However, I agree, don’t underestimate the power of placebo effects. I love it how drinking coffee makes me ‘’more concentrated’’. Then they continued asking me why medical researchers are not observing the effects of 'energy' on cells, such as Yin and Yang energy. Upon which I replied, irritated, ‘’If you can give me a tube containing this so-called energy, I am more than happy to tell you its effects on cells. But until we can’t characterize, define, and quantify this energy, then there is not much we can do in Science.’’ The woman of the couple said, ‘’I think that’s the problem with Science. It’s all about measuring and proving. This perception is old-fashioned and needs to be changed.’’ My god, such ignorance! The man said, backing-up his wife, ‘’We’ve been investing an enormous amount of money in medical research past decade. But honestly, we don’t have benefited much from it in terms of applied medicine. There is still cancer.’’ I was shocked. There have been made huge advances in medicine past decade! This clearly demonstrates the huge knowledge gap between medical research and society that desperately needs to be abridged. I explained that there were huge medical advances made last decade:

• human genome discoveries reaching the bench side, leading to personalized treatments.
• stem cell therapies in which adult stem cells can become manipulated to acquire essential features of embryonic stem cells. This leads to sidestepping ethical concerns about usage of human embryo’s for research,
• massive decline in heart disease and cancer, of which the latter is caused by more specifically targeted cancer therapies,
• strong prolonged survival of HIV patients due to combination therapies,
• improvements in field of surgery by means of minor invasive or even robotic techniques,
• even in the field of pediatric leukemia has the survival rate increased from 30% towards 80% for the common leukemia form ALL in the past decade, etc.

I can go on all day. Don’t even get me started on the advances in the field of Immunology past decade. Yet, this couple did not seem impressed. What do they expect!? To become invincible after investing in medical research for ten years? They attacked me with the statement that, ‘’Doctors never tell you when side effects are actually worse than being left untreated.’’ Well, honey. I ain’t no doctor. Can’t help you there. I really just wanted to continue reading my book.

The couple left my table agitated. I find it so hard to stay friendly when my passion becomes attacked, merely based on lies, ignorance and incorrect facts. I have much to learn in bridging this gap, so that I can inform the next Ying Yang couple better about the real beauty of Science. Although, when I showed this couple my Yin Yang necklace, they looked at me smiling as if I was not yet lost in the cold and bitter world of Science. I have to admit, sometimes Science does give me shivers.

Kaikoura & Hanmer Springs

I travelled by bus 183 km north from Christchurch towards Kaikoura. The bus rode through beautiful scenery along coastline and in between mountains. I stayed at a cute, small hostel called Sunrise Lodge that is run by an enthusiastic couple. Fresh made chocolate muffins were waiting for me. I’d say I prefer smaller, but cosy hostels above larger, but popular hostels. The first thing I noticed was amazing snowcapped peaks of mountains so close to the sea. Morning clouds were encircling these mountains, resembling rings of planet Saturnus. Marine animals are abundant here in Kaikoura due to ocean-current and other conditions leading to an upwelling force, bringing nutrients up from the ocean floor into the feeding zone of seabed lining the coast.

I did the Kaikoura Peninsula Walkway, which is a four hour loop along the cliffs to South Bay. This was an amazing experience. En route I stumbled into a big, fat, fur seal blocking my pathway, lying in the sun against a rock, while other seals were splashing in the water; enjoying life. Startled, I felt like I was walking in a zoo. But I wasn’t; this was real wildlife.

After two days I travelled by bus 134 km inland towards Hanmer Springs. This bus ride was zigzagging around mountains, from left to right, up and down. It made me feel nausea, but luckily I could hold my stomach content together. But the view was so amazing: bright, green mountains everywhere. Hanmer springs is a beautiful village surrounded by these mountains. The first night in the hostel I was playing the drinking game Death of Fire with Northern Kiwi’s, while the next night I was playing Pictionary with an adorable family. It’s funny how a certain mixture of people determines the vibe of the night. Hanmer Springs is known for its hot thermal pools, benefiting from natural mineral water, clear alpine air, and uplifting environment. The mineral-rich water of Hanmer Springs is naturally warmed by the intense heat radiating from the earth’s core. It was so relaxing to soak my body in these hot pools, while breathing in the cold air, with a view of mountains. It actually reminded me of the day in Budapest after I rowed 400 km with Team Beau 4 Rights from Vienna to Budapest, when we visited a hot pool there. Our sore muscles, exhausted body was laying lifeless in these hot pools trying to recover; good memories. The next day I did a nice hiking track through Hanmer Springs Forest with a fellow Dutch girl I met in the hostel. I am in love with the hostel as well. It’s a wooden house with lots of atmosphere with free chocolate milk and ice cream! Next destination: Queenstown.

Christchurch & Akaroa

Firstly, a few words about the amazing hostel I am staying at in Christchurch. I am staying in the Jailhouse Hostel, which used to be a former prison. You can still tell the past identity of this building by looking at little details, such as the barred windows for example. I thinks it’s so cool, but also weird, to sleep in a room that used to be a prison cell. Anyway, my arrival in Christchurch went really smoothly, and the first thing I noticed was the cold. My Sydney spoiled body is not used to experiencing temperatures below 20 degrees any more. Winter is coming. My body temperature regulation system has claimed new standards. Therefore, I found myself walking through Christchurch with a long trouser, woollen hoodie, and a scarf folded around my neck. But despite these clothing precautions, I was still shivering at 15 degrees Celsius, whereas the Kiwi folk were still walking around in shorts and singlets. Those windows wide-opened, bare chest Stockholm days of minus 10 degrees temperatures seem to be far in the past now. It wasn’t all bad, though. The sun on your face with a cold breeze also has something refreshing, and sobering. I have to admit, the air here is very clean and pure to inhale. My lungs are content. The city center of Christchurch is entirely barricaded and referred to as the Red Zone. The recent earthquake in September that took many lives still left visible scars in the city. Walking there just made me realize how bizarre, and shocking, it must be for a center of the city to be wiped down. I visited the Canterbury Museum and I was glancing through a Photography book about the effects of this earthquake. It had sent cold shivers down my spine. I remembered hearing the disaster on the News in the Netherlands at the time. I was shocked for approx. a brief three seconds and then continued with my life. Now, I was just completely moved. The pictures showed the severe damage of buildings, cars, illustrating the power of nature. But it also depicted the pain and suffering on the faces of unexpected inhabitants. I felt a sting of tears in my eyes, embarrassingly in a crowded museum. Obviously, the tiredness of my two hour jetlag was getting the best of me. Some words about hostel life style. I was really disgustingly surprised about the high amounts of fast food intake by my fellow travellers. I hope I won’t succumb to that.

The next day I booked a bus to visit the city Akaroa. This city lies in the crater of former three volcanos, which now constitutes a valley of three mountains. You can still see different mountain layers material covering each other, indicating different time points of volcano eruptions. Also interesting, is the fact that the entire city has a French culture. A little history: James Cook, British explorer, claimed New Zealand in 18-something. However, two years before Britain arrived in New Zealand, the French had already discovered this land. They were pleased with the potential of New Zealand, and went back to France to inspire the people there to form a community in this newfound promising country. A boat with 66 French settlers, through storm and wind, finally arrived in New Zealand, only to find a British flag saluting them. The British had managed to make an agreement with the local Maori folk, before the French could. Imagine how New Zealand could’ve turned out to be if the French explores had arrived two year earlier. The exact nature of the agreement with the British, French, and local Maori people is really complicated, and is still a very active, debatable subject here in New Zealand. Nevertheless, the city Akarao was given to the French and its French flavour is still very detectable. (In this area, the Germans also had claimed a bay, called German Bay. But during the World Wars, it seemed inappropriate to have a bay called German Bay in a British claimed country. Therefore they had to change their name in Maori: Takipatu) Akarao was a very cute, small city with a harbour filled with bright blue, greenish water, and beautiful green mountains surrounding it, with many, many sheeps. Tomorrow, I am escaping from jail and flee to a city up north from here: Kaikoura.