RAGLAN: a junction of passions

If New Zealand´s towns were guys, then Raglan would be the most good-looking surfer dude in the country! Locals and travelers just love Raglan. And no wonder! It may well be one of the best surf spots in the North Island and it´s even considered- by the Lonely Planet- one of the most charming towns of the whole of New Zealand. I can´t actually confirm this last fact, but for sure it´s a must do, a spot you cannot miss, if you visit this area of the World.

So Raglan it was where Vanessa and I went this past weekend for a writing retreat. We needed a peaceful and natural place to get inspired and work on the play we are currently writing so, after a couple of hours coasting alongside hills and farms, we finally arrived to this attractive little town nestled in the Raglan Harbour. We were immediately stirred by the art emanating from every home or business: handmade jewelry, dresses, bags and shoes; rustic cafés and houses that looked like UFOs; cozy backpackers with saunas, books and hammocks. Even in the most unexpected corner you´ll come across a creative gate or ingenious balcony.

But what impressed me the most of this artistic town was mainly the peace it conveys to whomever enters its domain. As soon as you step into Raglan you are overwhelmed by the silence, the nature and by the quietness of the locals. You feel as if time had stopped, as if you were floating underwater, in slow motion: cruising around town, gliding towards the beach, meandering along the roads…

Raglan is indeed the ideal place to escape from the noise, the rush and the agitated life of more crowded towns. However, after a while of laying back and relaxing my mind in the limbo, I suddenly feel the urge to move about, to activate myself and get stimulation in one way or another. In Raglan I felt just like when you go to a concert with great music and, instead of dancing, you just sit and enjoy, motionless on a chair. I can do that for a while, but sooner or later my legs will start bouncing, my head swaying with the rhythm, and my fingers tapping the table.

Because of this restlessness, I was curious to comprehend why many young travelers choose Raglan to settle. So when I ordered a Mocha in the busiest café in town, I decided to question the foreign waitress about this. Her name was Aneta and she had been living in Raglan for 7 months so far. Besides preparing delicious mochas, she also surfs, hikes and enjoys outdoor activities. She told me that, because Raglan offers all of these facilities, she had chosen to stay there all those months. Of course, in due time she made wonderful friends and is currently flatting with them. I met other young people in their early thirties, all keen on surf and relaxing life, all choosing Raglan because of the same reasons as Aneta.

It was in one of my strolls around town, that I came across the cozy and colorful flower shop named Lilypot. Right away I felt the impulse to check out the place. I still don´t know if I was attracted by the old bicycle with a basket full of flowers stationed on the sidewalk or the artistic violet sign over the entrance door. But, anyhow, I walked in and was kindly welcomed by this smiling lady that I will call Di. Di runs Lilypot, makes all the beautiful flower arrangements and initiated the whole business on her own. She decided to make something out of her passion for flowers, so with a bunch of 5 dollar arrangements, she knocked on every door in town and was immediately supported by the neighbors. Her business is now growing, blooming like a flower in spring, and even selling around the world! If you go to Raglan, you should visit this lovely little flower shop.

But it was after chatting with Di that it dawned to me: Raglan is a junction where passions meet, where passions converge and where art blossoms. This is why people settle in Raglan in spite of the quietness and stillness of the place. All that calmness that stroke me so hard is only superficial. In Raglan, people are constantly creating, inventing and crafting. In Raglan, people surf, people paint, people write. Passions are welcome, passions are developed, and passions are respected. Raglan is a junction of passions.

I do admire every person I met in Raglan. All of them adapted their lives to what makes them happy, to what fulfills them at the end of the day. One needs to be very brave to follow one´s heart no matter what´s at stake. And not everybody has the guts to do so. All these brave people are the ones that smile when they are about to go to bed and the ones beaming early in the morning.

Fortunately, there´s no need to go to Raglan to be able to smile… So gain, courage, my friend, and follow your passion, no matter where it leads you to!

TIME OF YOUR LIFE!

Rainy afternoon in Mt, Maunganui. Everybody you know is working, Bayfair sounds like a bad idea, walking down the beach even worse, so what to do when boredom strikes? “Dirty Dancing”. And I don´t mean polishing the floor with your belly or spinning around a pole like a fireman, but simply renting a DVD and watching the movie! “Dirty dancing”, a dance not dirty at all, by the way.

I´ve just finished the film and of course the last song is still beating in my head. Patrick Swayze´s muscular body is also pasted in my mind, but the song is what mostly captured my attention. “First dance… First love… The time of your life!”, catchy, profound and inspiring. It makes you want to stand up, shake your hips, jump in the air and do something with your life, doesn´t it? It makes me want to go to the gym too, but let´s just stick to the point.

Having the time of my life… I just wonder how much of reality is there in this statement. I used to feel I was having the time of my life when I was younger. I used to go on holidays, meet people, go dancing; I used to fall in love very easily and very deeply. Nothing disturbed my mind for long because “Daddy” would solve it or Mummy would stroke it away; anyhow, there was no grey cloud in my clear blue sky. Whereas as for now, I just happen to be doubting if that forever HAPPINESS everybody searches for, if that eternal HEAVEN everybody looks forward to, is indeed reachable and sustainable or just a quick moment one goes through in a blink of an eye.

Now, I´m not saying I´m not having a good time nowadays. If I wasn´t having a good time, I would definitely do something to change my situation. I´m just trying to say that as one grows old, so do worries and concerns. Wrinkles don´t just appear because of age. One slowly becomes more aware of how The Matrix functions. The green codes are seen everywhere. You no longer believe that Daddy can save you and you snap out of the certainty that Mummy´s strokes can heal you. You become more conscious of the power you have over yourself and your life. You cannot keep on believing in “La vie en rose” because you have already gone through the mirror and peeped on the other side! Now, isn´t this concerning and beautiful at the same time?

I do desire to maintain that happiness that every now and again I experience. But I just wonder if that is possible or just a phrase characteristic of the Modern Man´s speech: “Work hard and keep on trying that you will reach happiness!” Some people work their hands to the bone, others surf and feel the adrenaline all day long; some just travel around the world, unattached; others act, paint and write. But at the end of the day, after that dose of distraction and happiness, reality strikes like a tax collector, unmercifully and persistently. And don´t confuse my words: I´m saying REALITY and not TRAGEDY.


I´ve reread Siddhartha recently and rediscovered the wisdom flowing in it. He says at the end of his days: “I had to strive for property and experience nausea and the depths of despair in order to learn not to resist them, in order to learn to love the world, and no longer compare it with some kind of desired imaginary world, some imaginary vision of perfection, but to leave it as it is, to love it and to be glad to belong to it”. I do agree with his words: the peace of mind so beseeched can only be gained by ACCEPTING, accepting oneself, accepting the others, and finding a peaceful agreement in between. When Govinda asks Siddhartha: “Give me something to help me on my way, Siddhartha. What helps you to live and do right?”, Siddhartha answers: “Knowledge can be communicated, but not wisdom. IN EVERY TRUE, THE OPPOSITE IS EQUALLY TRUE” …


So, my friends, I guess we´re back in the beginning, just wondering if eternal happiness can be reached. Have you ever had the time of your life? Did you ever meet Patrick Swayze?

(Photos: First one: Tongariro Crossing. 2nd: Natural Rockslide in Gisborne 3rd: IDEM)

Conversations

This fluffy, friendly, fat cat followed me to the beach today. Yeah, he came all the way from what I reckon is his house to the seashore!



Now, I don´t know about you, but this is the first time in my life that I´ve ever seen these two together: that is a cat and the sea only six feet one from the other! So while I wrote, watched the sunset and admired some cute surfers, this little cat explored the dunes, took a leak and then covered the remaining, purred and chased some seagulls.


I also had a very entertaining conversation with this kitty. Sometimes, you must agree, chatting with felines is more amusing than conversing with other human beings. Once, at the beginning of my trip, I met this kiwi guy that worked at an Information Centre. Considering that he knows about places, activities and destinations, one would suppose he´s interesting, travelled, well read… But, leaving aside the fact that I could barely hear his voice when he spoke, his conversations were so dull, so boring I had to force myself to keep track of what he was talking about. I will always remember him as the “Snooze guy…”.


This other time I met an Argentine girl who comes from one of the snobbiest places in Buenos Aires. Goodness Gracious! She must have forgotten her manners back home, because I couldn´t keep record of how many times DICK, SHIT and FUCK were pronounced during our short talk. I met her at a fucking Backpacker in Gisborne and though fucking short and fucking brief was our encounter, to me it lasted fucking ages!


So going back to the friendly cat I met today, I must add that I really miss My adorable Cat Dona who I left with my parents in Argentina. I can talk to my family every day, I can see them through Skype or even write a hundred e-mails to them per week, but I can´t squash my cat through my notebook; I can´t stroke her or kiss her or play with her! And even though I keep myself amused when chatting to other kitty cats, my Dona can´t be replaced. There´s no cat in the world who could resemble her. Will she remember me when I go back home? Or will she stare at me with that superior look and just walk away?


Has this ever happen to you? Do you have pets you love with all your might and had to leave behind for a long period?


Write to me and tell me your story! I´ll feel less alone in this madness!

Mt. Maunganui: an ART Desert

It´s been already 6 months since I settled at the Mt Maunganui. A long time for a traveler like me whose plan is to stay in New Zealand for just a while. Many will disagree with what I´m about to say, others might happen to coincide, but the Mount is not particularly popular for the Art it has to offer; it´s more regarded as a cultural desert, a place where no green sprouts naturally from the ground, but has to be mindfully planted.

I had the fortune of running into my artistic friend Vanessa as soon as I arrived to the Mt. After three unsuccessful check outs of different flats, all discharged for not liking the flatmates to be, I finally went to take a look at this last house. With my hopes to the ground, I arrived to this moldy one storey house, leading to a noisy road, with the loan up to my chin and bushes growing wildly in the front. Discouraged by the facade, I was just about to turn round and leave, when this girl with short brown hair in her mid twenties greeted me with a broad smile. She was using crutches and had a plaster in one of her feet because she had tore her ligaments a couple of months ago. Now, did you ever have this feeling of connecting with somebody from the very beginning? Did you ever feel this comfort with another person as soon as you locked eyes with them?

Vanessa and I got along from the very start. I moved into the moldy house that same day, no matter the funguses on the carpets nor the noise and cold coming from outside. I quickly got to know Vanessa more and discovered that she loved writing, just like me, and had recently created the Mount Writer´s Circle, precisely for not having enough artistic events or groups to attend in the Mount. I was her first member, and Monday after Monday, more people joined us and nowadays the Mount Writer´s Circle is flourishing, blooming and glimmering as well.

We have moved out from the moldy house and left two lovely flatmates behind, but we are now residing in a more inspiring place, full of light and fresh air, just two blocks away from the beach. If the Mountain doesn´t come to Mahomet, then Mahomet will have to walk to the mountain himself, and that´s what Vanessa and I are doing at the Mount Maunganui in regards to Art. We are currently writing a theatre play, apart from continuing with the Mount Writer´s Circle. We´ve organized Readings and Word Games in a café nearby, which have been very successful and might be repeated in the near future. We are trying to attend every artistic event that miraculously is held in town, such as “Story telling”, or “Improvisation nights”, such as “Poetry jam” or “Open micks”.

In the meantime, we are meeting very interesting people, all concerned about the lack of Art offered in the suburbs. And just like us, they are all initiating their own groups and organizing their own events. No matter your age, no matter how you express it, ART is meant to be conveyed, and if there are no means available out there, well, then you´ll have to create them yourself. If we follow this path, hopefully, the Mount with soon stop being a desert in between oceans, and will be known as the colorful Mt. Maunganui, where music sweeps you off your feet, where pictures and paintings dazzle your eyes and where words and stories just caramel your ears and drift you to a magical world.