Start of it all

October 21st, 3.45 PM.
That was the date, the exact time of my scheduled departure from Italy, destination Auckland, New Zealand. Everything was ready: my 85 liters backpack stuffed to the very limit, a decent-sized gray luggage (yeah, fancy backpacking, as many first timers) and a smaller backpack, the carry-on, the one dubbed "technology pack". In that I had just so many $$ in tech equipment: camera, 2 lenses, laptop, chargers, spare batteries, phone.. you name them. That was the piece of baggage I had to look after.
Gathering all of this stuff at home I felt like I was carrying my whole life with me. The tangible one at least, the material one.
I stuffed everything in the trunk of my dad's car and out we set. Once again, that Venice airport that saw me leaving quite a few times before. This one was a big one though.
It was a lame day, kind of hazy, dull colors around the plains. Didn't make for much happiness or smiles around us. Me and my family, no goodbye parties or stuff like that. We got to the airport swiftly and I checked my bags in. A little bit of confusion at the desk made for a bit of worrying but the inconvenience got solved eventually. Ready to go.
It felt weird saying goodbye to my fellas. I love my family, even though I can be blamed for not letting them know it too often. A letter for Christmas doesn't cover for a whole year, right? And in those occasions you'd really like them to know how much they're important to you, how much you'll miss them.
Well, I didn't let them know then either. Could be 'cause I'm a guy, and guys rarely are that opened and emotional huh? Could be 'cause of the very moment I was living. I was very aware of what laid ahead of me, I could have been overwhelmed. Either way, I just gave everyone a hug, mom, dad, my brother, smiled, tried to keep them cool and tear-less, and eventually, walked away. I saw my family hanging at the departures gate til I turned my back to them one last time, headed to the security check. Gone, til who knew when.

The flight was smooth but sad towards Dubai. I witnessed a gorgeous sunset, the deepest colors of the fading sun casting on the wings of that Emirates plane. Brought to my mind something like the end of a phase of my life, sunset over my first quarter of a century. Sadness inspired by those warm colors, slowly receding to colder reds, purples and blues, reminded me of my family that would miss me, of my friends I wouldn't see. The consolation was in the awareness that a sunrise was on the way. A totally new one. I was too sleepy by then to be fired up though.

Dubai passed by, I had a technical layover in Kuala Lumpur and I was then in Melbourne, waiting for the last flight. I was telling myself "Ain't no way I'm gonna fly down here anymore". It's just way too long. I felt worn out, tired, dry, dirty, hungry, thirsty, sickish. I already knew I wasn't the greatest flyer out there, and I was just getting a confirm. Before I tackled the last take off and landing, I bought a morning burger at Hungry Jack (later to be very well known), took a leak and headed towards the gate. Yet once again.

It felt like I spent the last 25 years of my life on a plane, when I finally landed in New Zealand. happy to be arrived but far from feeling relieved. It was 1.45 PM in Auckland, and I was still hours plus customs away from a long night sleep. Dammit. I pay a visit to the nearest toilet, trying to refresh myself as best as I could, and hit the customs. A pretty darn long queue stretches in front of me, a disheartening sight. Patiently, I slowly make my way towards the entry point. I easily obtain permission to entry and stay up to one year. Sweet, it was a start!
Just after that, I go collect my bags. I pick up my backpack and luggage, shovel one onto my shoulders and push the other towards the exit. I hear somebody shouting towards me while I was crossing the "nothing to declare" gate. Apparently, a guard wants to inspect my backpack. "I've got nothing sir, no food, dairy, meat or vegetables of sort sir".
"Got any camping gear on ya?"
"Hmm, yeah, I've a tent with me. Does that matter?"
I did forget that I was down there. Down in those countries (New Zealand, Australia) where flora and fauna distract imports have damaged local species to astonishing levels. Therefore, down there, they do care a lot about what you're bringing into the country, in an effort to not repeat mistakes like the ones in the past.
"Yes, so please put your backpack over there", tells me the guard.
"And please take the tent over there", pointing a small window on the wall.
The tent gets inspected aside.
I do get my pack back, half opened, I push my luggage towards the exit and get told to recollect my tent on the other side, once exited. Found another little window on the other side, I ask for my tent and they give it to me. Opened.
"What the hell!!", I exclaim, just to myself. Of course those fellas don't waist time in packing your tent back up, therefore it's your job to do it, right in the middle of a busy airport. Right on.
I start folding my tent - a task I wasn't that familiar with at the time - spreading it on the floor with people walking all around me, probably thinking that mine was the ultimate layover sleeping place.
I complete the job feeling kind of ashamed, grab my stuff and dart towards the bus terminal. I buy a ticket, change some bucks in kiwi dollars, and head to the bus stop.
It seems kind of easy, less complicated than I thought. The bus ride is fairly short and I hop off, making sure it was the right one asking to the driver, at my stop, about 300 yards from the motel I booked for the night.

So far, so good: I arrived alive, didn't pass out due to exhaustion, got all my baggages, and found the motel. I just had one other task to tick off my to-do list for the day: finding a car to buy.
It ain't no joke to find a car that satisfies your cost budget, that can actually run and that has no charges or fines on it. Especially in a country when you start to notice a quite different English than the one you're used to. I limited my conversations as much as I could. I was able to understand, probably, some 30% of what people said. I had my first taste of kiwi English.
Back to the car issue, as soon as I check in at the motel, I unload the burden on my shoulders and start right away a search for a transportation mean on gumtree, the craigslist for Australia & New Zealand. I set my maximum budget for 2500 NZ$, or about 2000 US$. Of course, most of them have some flaws, some major ones too. I can't afford those. I need a ready-to-go vehicle. Registration possibly paid and road expenses too. And you don't find many of those cheap cars satisfying those criteria as well.
The one that I bump on and looks like a possible candidate is a red '91 Honda Accord, with rego and road fees paid for and no mechanical issues. Just some scratches and a couple decent dents on the body. I call the guy and he still has it.
"Would you meet me tomorrow morning? I'll buy it right away, cash-in-hands if it runs properly"
"Sure mate, where do you want to meet up?"
I get an appointment with him at the motel for the following morning, and when I hang up the world looks bright.

I did everything I needed to do, I was about to get some food in my belly and the bed was inviting me to try it out for a loong sleep. I went to sleep dreaming about freedom, and having nightmares about taking more planes.

Bureaucracies & Technicalities - Part 2

With an abundance of scenaries, from high mountains to desert valleys to lush forests, Argentina was a very attractive destination. I was lucky enough to have a family friend in Buenos Aires that could have helped me at the very beginning of my trip. We decided to take advantage of him and on the first occasion he reached Italy, we invited him over for dinner.
We talked about places and budgets, and overall, it seemed to be a decent deal. Argentina in 2012 wasn't craazy expensive although wasn't crazy cheap either, but with a good stock of US dollars and a bit of hostels-car sharing the whole trip could have been done. I was thinking about a month of pure tourism, doing it the fancy way, renting a car to maxime time.
My friend ended his talking telling me just one thing, out of his heart. He said Argentina is a beautiful country, and he would have suggested it warmly. On the other hand though, I was alone, a foreigner, in a land where people don't speak a whole lot of English and where I didn't really speak Spanish (although one might argue - like my dad would - that Italians and Argentinians are two cultures alike and therefore could bypass the language barrier by a bit of simililarity in the languages and a bit of gesturing). I would start the trip in, possibly, one of the most difficult ways.

He had a point. Even though I had my travelling experience before, a pretty good one for a guy my age, I had never undertook a project in the likes. Money was a concern too. Starting a 2-years trip with a massive set of expenses (a month of travelling with a rental car, for instance) wouldn't be that encouraging. It'd be rather depressive.
These two arguments made Argentina slipping down my list. And the list wasn't that deep, for a starting place.
I shifted my focus to New Zealand.

Back in those days I had no clue whatsoever about what New Zealand was. I didn't know its capital, its leading industry, its natural features, its population. Nothing. I had a vague idea of its geographical location, and that was about it. I started my study opening Google Maps, as always, just to find out that the country is somewhere west-south-west from Australia, that is divided into 2 islands, and that its capital is a city named Wellington. I found out that, compared to my country Italy, New Zealand's surface is roughly 1 and a half times bigger but its total population is less than the three biggest Italian cities combined (Rome, Milan, Naples). South Island's population density, for instance, is about 18 people per square mils. Italy's reaches 512! Also, it looked like the chance of meeting a human being in the country was far less than the one of meeting a sheep: New Zeland's home to more than 31 million sheep!
I started to investigate for some cool natural features. My thirst for different landscapes was big.
I got to know about the marine parks, the Alps, the hillside, the cities. About the Milford Track, dubbed by many "the best multi-day hike in the world" (Tourist agencies down there brag about that as well). In just a few minutes, I was sold on New Zealand. It really had an appeal on me.
I just had to..hmm.. find a job?
It involved finding out information on working visas first. New Zealand - you'll get to know - is pretty popular among so called "backpackers" not only because of its natural features, but also because of the simplicty of the visa process. In fact, it usually takes no longer than 2 days from the application date to get a visa issued - if you satisfy all the required criterias AND you pay the fee.
Given that there was no particular obstacle in obtaining a 1 year-long working holiday visa, I applied, paid the fee and went on. That was my very first expense in these 2, expenditure-riddled years!

I then started to think about jobs. I sent a few random resume - it was my first English resume and my first on-line application - without success, and just shortly after I started to question my tactic. "Am I really on the right track? Wouldn't I be better off by just going there and hunt for jobs locally?". Those questions made a lot of sense. That's what you do at home, right? Why shouldn't it be the same abroad?! I opted to stop submitting ridiculous applications (I'd love to see a few of them right now, I have a feeling I'd laugh so bad at them) and focus on finding a place to settle down in the country, for a few months (the plan was to stay in NZ for no longer than 4-5 months in total).
I ruled out all the big cities right away. I was leaving a city of about 200.000 people mainly to live in nicer, wilder places - like a village nestled in the mountains. Mountains, that's what I was looking for. I went almost immediately down to South Island. There's plenty of mountains down there, making it difficult to pick one spot. My attention went on a place called Queenstown, that looked perfectly positioned: on a nice lake, among several mountain ranges, not too far from the coast (at least as crow flies). It also had a decently sized population, not exceeding 20.000. After talking to a couple of friends, that positively reviewed their own experiences there, my decision was made. Queenstown was the goal.

New Zealand, from being just the place where the Lord of The Rings was shot, was now the country I was heading to. Queenstown, from the unknown realm, my next destination.

Having sorted destination and pushed back a decision on jobs, my main problem was now transportation. For the amount of travelling I wanted to do, and for the amount of freedom implied by my travelling-style, I needed a car. It was very much impossible though to secure a car from overseas. Imagine you live in Colorado, and you're looking to buy a car from a fella in Florida two weeks before you arrive in that state to relocate. How's that going to be possible? Of course you could send him money as a deposit to keep the car for you, but how do you know it's not a lemon? How could you inspect the car? There's simply no way to, so I quickly gave up in trying to find a solution to the problem. Even though I absolutely wanted to arrive in the country and be ready to set out as soon as possible, I had to postpone buying a car to when I actually arrived in the country.
I was still missing something under the voice "transportation" though... something that would had carried me to the country. I guess that was a plane ticket. It was time.
The day I started to look around for a cheap flight to New Zealand marked an important point for me. I knew I couldn't go back. Up to then, I could have still withdrew. Besides for that 160 new zealand dollars for the visa, no big money had been invested. An airfare to such a far destination.. well, that was a blow. It was the tie when I said to myself, "Alright, let's go!".
Using some search engines like Momondo.com or Skyscanner.com (both highly recommended), I drew a price map of the country. It looked like Auckland was the cheapest destination for those dates - mid October. Although Auckland was in North Island, I could have gotten statistically better chances of buying a decent car and I would have had a few days of travels to drive South that would have allowed me to catch a glimpse of the country. Make some travel notes for the future.

Eventually, I agreed with myself, reached for my credit card and typed all the information. When I clicked the "confirm" button, I was basically gone. I had left Italy. My family, friends, hobbies, possessions. My life.
And by the way, that "confirm" button also caused a debit line on my credit card bill for 870 euro. Man!

The flight I booked was scheduled to leave from Venice airport on October 21, 2012, and planned to stop at Dubai, Kuala Lumpur, Melbourne and finally Auckland. I still remember reading on the arrival date "+2". I was going to leave around mid-afternoon and I'd have arrived 2 and a half days later. Holy cow, I thought it was going to be cool! Like, sleep on every airport couch, eating junk food in between flights, getting down the last flight with a hungover face.
Well, I'd have found out soon.
Yeah, that it wasn't going to be THAT cool!