Originally Posted by
Mrs Sideshow
Hello
I am married to a Kiwi.
So what you might think, so are millions of others.
True, but I am not a Kiwi, I am from Europe.
Again, you might ask, so what?
Well, let’s just say that seeing we come from different cultures, we don’t always look at things the same way.
He is a hunter, I am not.
He dreams of Stewart Island, I dream of Bora Bora
He is getting his wish, I am coming along kicking and screaming
Here is my side of the story:
« You will love Stewart Island. There are very few people, in fact, you’ll see no one once we get to the place we booked. We’ll have our own private beach, you’ll be able to see stunning sunsets and if you are willing to venture out into the wilderness, you might even come across a Kiwi.”
My husband of ten years looks at me with a big smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. At this point, he hasn’t told me that there will be no electricity, no wifi, no heating and no running water. He hasn’t told me that I will be sleeping in a sleeping bag in a cabin, that temperatures will rarely climb into doubles figures, that it probably will rain a lot and that I will be spending my days alone while he goes off hunting. And he definitely has not told me that this whole adventure is going to cost about the same as a two-week holiday in a five-star hotel in Bora Bora.
In fact, at this point, he is still full of confidence that his European wife who has a penchant for fluffy duvets, warm Caribbean waters and Michelin star restaurants will happily accompany him to an Island that most people have never even heard of. At this point, he also still believes that she will spend her day in a cabin, faithfully waiting for the return of her hunter husband. He even thinks she will have dinner ready for him, that she will listen to his tales of a day’s hunting and he probably also believes that she will enthusiastically peel herself out of the many layers of clothing she will be forced to wear to make love on the hard and cold wooden planks of their cabin.
Really? Has he lost his marbles? Is he blind? Did someone give him drugs? I mean seriously, who did he think he married? Ok, fair enough, we did meet in Uganda when he was working as an Overland Driver and I was backpacking my way to Rwanda to see the Gorillas. At the time, neither of us had a lot of money. We were both still in that adventure stage of our life where you don’t have to think about mortgages, careers, pensions, etc. So, yes, you could say we were roughing it. Sleeping in tents, not having showers for several days, using bushes and long drops to do our business and surviving on beer (him not me) and samosas (me not him). Then it was heaven. Now it’s like, do I have to?
I mean, today we do have a mortgage and we do have careers (well kind of) and after backpacking through Myanmar in 2013 we swore to each other that we would never rough it again. So where on earth did Stewart Island suddenly appear from?
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