IX | Family

6/12/22

  I've been struggling on what to write about these days. I'd often start something then delete it all after putting some time in to it. I'm not exactly travelling these days. Right now my life consists of working two part-time jobs on a full-time schedule and most of my free-time goes towards rugby and exercising. It's been great to properly settle down and have structure in my life again. I'll admit though, I'm looking forward to planning some adventures for the future. But for now, it's back to the reality of being a working man - this time in a whole new setting that is North Devon, England.

  Like I said, I wasn't quite sure what to write for this entry. In my head, I thought I'd try and write on here once every month or two, but even spacing it out that far and between is proving difficult. I kept starting, stopping, and deleting things as what I was writing just didn't feel necessary to post on this. I want to keep these blogs focused on what life is and has been like for me on this side of the world, and I feel like that I've lately been drifting away from that. Then the idea came through where I'd have to wind the clock back a little a bit in order to try and stay true to what I want to write. When I began writing these blogs, that was when I was about to do a trip to France for the first time, more than 3 months after I'd already been in England. I realised that I haven't actually written much about England at all during my first few months here. There's plenty to say, that's where the journey began after all.

  As I write this, it is exactly 6 months ago that I landed on soil that I hadn't set foot on in 25 years. 6 months ago I acted on what was no doubt the biggest decision I ever made. I remember not really having my emotions in check, I didn't know what to feel by the time departure day came about. I didn't know what could lie ahead. How long will I be away from New Zealand? Will I hate England and be back next week? Will I be back in a couple of years? Never? Will I ever see certain people ever again? Not knowing both excited and scared me. I think I mentioned a while ago how I literally had no plan for this, besides crashing on my cousins couch for however long once I arrive. Even that was very last-minute, not to mention I never met my cousin and her family before. I was positive that everything would be fine, but there's always that nagging what-if in the back of the mind, you know?

  Obviously there were goodbyes leading up to my departure, some that were really tough to deal with. But none of it felt more real than when I was actually at Auckland airport on the evening of June 5th 2022. Dad dropped me off in what was naturally a pretty emotional time. On the surface I was fine and pretty calm surprisingly. I usually seem to hold it together well in these sorts of moments, even though I know how hard it will be. But in my head I had all these thoughts rolling through at once. When will I see you again Dad? I've never flown internationally by myself before, am I doing this right? Is this really the best thing for me to do? Once we walked in opposite directions of each other, I didn't know what to feel. I just put my head down and realised that I was on my own now. 

  Between Auckland to Los Angeles and then to London Heathrow, the journey to the UK took what was close to 30 hours thanks to those long-ass flights and some inconvenient delays. Prior to the flights I wasn't too excited on spending over 20 hours in the air and spending loads of time in lines at airports and what not, but overall it wasn't a terrible experience. Besides the discomfort on the planes and the sleeping struggles, I actually quite enjoyed it - it was all new to me. I don't really have much to say about that other than that I got slightly intoxicated by myself at the LA airport. I may have enjoyed drinking and observing my surroundings a bit too much. In my head I thought that several drinks would help me sleep on the plane, how wrong I was. I arrived in London very sleep deprived, having only just fallen asleep on the last 30 minutes of a 10 hour flight, classic. Yet, I was very present and alive for the occasion. The process of getting off the plane and grabbing baggage was very quick to my surprise. I then had to keep an eye out for Uncle Spike and my cousin Karen who came to pick me up. I hadn't seen Spike since I was 16 years old, back when he and Auntie Bobbie last visited New Zealand, and I had never met his daughter Karen before. So meeting them here was a pretty cool moment, it made my arrival here much more comforting. I remember being wowed by how different lots of things are here compared to New Zealand on the drive to Karen's. Things like ancient buildings, the way lots of houses are made, how different the country roads are, all these different shops. I remember losing my shit the first time I spotted a squirrel. I'm very used to it all now, but back then I was thinking "Yep, I'm a long way from NZ now." We got to Karen's home in Alton, Hampshire where I got to meet her partner Brad, their two teenage kids Nathan and Sophie, and their slightly mental, yet adorable cocker spaniel - Minnie. Auntie Bobbie was there when I arrived at the house too, it was cool to see her after all this time. I don't remember too much else from that day after being very sleep deprived, I think I was asleep by 7pm and woke up full of beans at 4am.

 

  The following day Uncle Spike and Auntie Bobbie took me to somewhere I've always wanted to go to ever since I learned about this place at a young age. The little village of Selborne, Hampshire - a place with a large amount of family history. Mostly all from my Norman side, but there's even a little from my Gower side too. My Mum grew up here, as did many generations of the Norman family before her. I didn't quite realise the extent of that history until some time later, but it goes well in to the early 1800's at the least. My Grandpa is buried in the cemetery by the church, along with many other generations of my family. I've wanted to visit him for the longest time, and I finally got to. He died when I was only a year old, not long after my first time in England. This might sound really weird and unlike something I'd normally think or say, but I've always felt very connected to him even though I have no memory of him. Who knows - call me crazy, I don't really know how to explain it. Since I've been in this country, I've asked those who knew him what he was like. Very kind, gentle and quiet are the words mostly used about him. Just a really good bloke. It was good to finally visit him. This lady who actually knew of the Normans kindly opened up the church for us to have a look inside. Funnily enough, it's the church that my parents got married in. One of the first times I've ever been in a building that old as far as I'm aware of. We had a look at what used to be my Grandparents house, the house my Mum grew up in. Apparently it changed a lot. I did wonder because all the overgrown vines across the building made the place look like a fucking jungle. My Dad worked and lived in the Selborne Arms pub while he was in England 30 years ago. We strolled through the village and had a drink there to finish off the day. I wanted a pint of Courage Best, which was supposedly my Grandpa's favourite beer. Unfortunately they didn't supply that. Cool side story - I couldn't find this beer anywhere right up until the day of my 26th birthday two months later. I took an open-top bus in Devon from Lynmouth to Porlock. The first thing I did on my 10am arrival was go to the first pub I saw in Porlock to celebrate 26. Would you believe what I found there? Courage Best! Definitely thought it was ironic considering it was my birthday and that I'd been to a decent amount of pubs since being in the country by that point. It's a nice drop too! Anyway, the Selborne Arms is a classic English pub. It's quite cool thinking how my Dad used to pour grog for people over the bar here all these years ago. I've come back to Selborne a few times on my own to do some walks and some exploring since then. It's a cute little village and there's not much there to be honest, but I do love it and I hold this place dearly to me.

  I spent about a month crashing on Karen and her family's couch as I was trying to sort my life out. The family were awesome in showing me around the area and supporting me with what I needed to get my life on track in the UK, I'll always be grateful. It was cool getting to know them, Brad and Karen are awesome and are lovely people. I really enjoy their company. Nathan and Sophie are usually out or keep to themselves, being teenagers really. They're both cool kids with good sense of humours though, some of the shit they say does make me laugh. Minnie is very much like a destructive and needy toddler with an interesting obsession towards tennis balls. You can't leave your possessions out in the open, or they'll be destroyed. I've bought 7 new pairs of socks since I met that dog and she even drank my bought coffee once, the little shit. At the end of the day, she's an endless source of entertainment.

  Karen took me to some cool places in Hampshire, such as the Cathedral city of Winchester. We visited and went inside the Cathedral, which I thought was pretty insane. The architecture is mind blowing, given the fact of knowing how old this place is. I'm not really one to actually take in what I read of the history in places like these, but it's always cool to think "Wow, so-and-so walked in these halls a 1000 years ago". Not to mention we were walking on floors that had ancient skeletons lying in tombs beneath them, not sure if that's cool or slightly disturbing! I often went for walks around Alton with Brad or Karen with Minnie. Alton on the whole, is a quite an average town. It has the necessities, some good cafes and pubs, and a train station. There's not much to the actual town other than that though. Yet, I still really like it. I love the amount of country walks it has. I strongly considered looking at living here because of all the nature walks it had, it would have been nice being close to family too. I never got sick of exploring around there. We'd quite often walk through the Ackender Woods, somewhere I'd actually end up walking or running through nearly every day. It's so strange how somewhere like that is just on the edge of town. Not many people actually walk through it too, which is mental - but for that I love this area even more. All the high trees, the leaves dropping and the hundreds of squirrels running about during the Autumn, the very rare sighting of deer running about, the horses in the paddocks near by. It always brought me such peace strolling through here. I didn't even need to wear earphones most of the time as I was already enjoying what I was hearing, and believe me I always have my earphones in when I go for walks. There are loads of walks I enjoy going on around Alton, but going through those Woods is no doubt my favourite.

  One thing I've really appreciated is spending time with Uncle Spike and Auntie Bobbie again. After they last visited New Zealand 10 years ago, I know from there that we all thought that we would never see each other again. So being in England and being able to see them a lot has been great. Spike's a funny bloke who has a pretty cool, yet simple perspective towards life that I've come to appreciate. He's very wise, don't tell him I said that though. Bobbie is lovely and funny in a different kind of way. I say in a different way because I am certain that 95% of the time I see her she's usually in the kitchen boiling lots of vegetables for their dog, it's bloody funny to watch I tell you. Paddy - don't even get me started on Paddy. The very alert and spoilt chihuahua x who I've unintentionally trained to sit on dining chairs. I've never met a dog that can look as though he's relaxing, yet still look as if his mind is running 100 miles an hour waiting for the next aeroplane to fly past so he can bark at it. He makes for great entertainment when I swing by their house for a cup of tea, that's for sure. I'd usually give Spike a call in the early afternoon a couple of times a week to see if he was keen to go to the pub for a couple of beers. Luckily he has a very twistable arm, much like his great-nephew. We'd often have some good talks over a couple of beers, and more often than not we'd run in to people that know him and would start talking to him. I used my words carefully there by saying people that know him. Spike has lived in Alton for a long time, to the point that most people in the area would at least know who he is. He reckons he knows that many people in Alton that he easily manages to forget some of them. This usually starts with someone coming towards us saying “Hello Spike!” Then after the conversation with them, Spike would turn to me and say "Don't know who the fuck that was." It's become a fun little game asking him if he actually remembers someone we've just spoken to. Most of the time the answer is “wouldn’t have a fucking clue mate.”

  I owe it to all of these guys for helping me get on my feet here in the UK. They've truly been great and I can't thank them enough. It's been awesome to meet family that I had never met before, and strengthen relationships with ones that I had known. I'm looking forward to more good times that lie ahead with them all! Getting closer with my family on this side of the world was something that I didn’t know that I needed, it’s made me even more glad that I decided to make the jump to England. I plan on talking more about England in time, but I wanted to dedicate this entry to my UK family and what Hampshire has been like for me. This was a really special and cool time that means a lot to me. I've enjoyed writing this one.