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I am writing this Trip Report for me (and my family), to remember what may well be my mother’s final overseas trip.
She is in her mid-eighties, having had an incredible life … a life worthy of a book, in fact! She spent her childhood in a war zone, a witness to terrorism. She remembers tanks driving down her street. She was told by the tanks’ occupants: this is no longer your house. This is no longer your country. Leave now or be shot.
At age seven, she became a refugee.
Through an incredible series of events, she overcame another obstacle: the White Australia policy. A one-off exception was made, and her family was allowed in. They came by boat, with nothing except what was in their suitcases.
Fast-forward an eventful 76 years. My mother is increasingly frail, but proud. She is proud to call Australia home, grateful beyond words for the opportunities and freedoms she has experienced – but still passionately advocating for the country of her birth.
Her last overseas trip was in 2018; soon afterward she announced that she would not travel again.
But earlier this year the unexpected happened. She called me: she was too old, she said, to travel to an unknown destination by herself, but she was interested … would I take her to New Zealand for one last overseas trip?
“I’d be happy to do that for you, Mum!”
She didn’t want to move around. She wanted a base – to sleep in the same bed every night (I did try to push back a little on that, but she was insistent). Her friends and family who had been to NZ raved about the South Island, about the scenery, the people, the lakes, the wildlife … and certain culinary establishments as well …
“Hmm. Queenstown seems to fit the bill?”
This will be my seventh visit to Queenstown and her first. But for the first time, I’ve had to plan a trip through the eyes of an octogenarian non-traveller who wants (within reason) to maximise experiencing, but to minimise travelling. I’ve had to organise experiences for someone who can’t walk far, and who can’t climb hills, and who needs time to recover. Neither of us have huge amounts of money. My mother does not have a huge amount of energy. What she does have, in spades, is curiosity. No lounging about in the luxury of a sterile resort or cruise-ship for her!
Feel free to tag along for what will surely be a slow-paced and (I hope) predictable holiday.
But more than anything I want it to be an experience my mother will love.
She deserves it.
She is in her mid-eighties, having had an incredible life … a life worthy of a book, in fact! She spent her childhood in a war zone, a witness to terrorism. She remembers tanks driving down her street. She was told by the tanks’ occupants: this is no longer your house. This is no longer your country. Leave now or be shot.
At age seven, she became a refugee.
Through an incredible series of events, she overcame another obstacle: the White Australia policy. A one-off exception was made, and her family was allowed in. They came by boat, with nothing except what was in their suitcases.
Fast-forward an eventful 76 years. My mother is increasingly frail, but proud. She is proud to call Australia home, grateful beyond words for the opportunities and freedoms she has experienced – but still passionately advocating for the country of her birth.
Her last overseas trip was in 2018; soon afterward she announced that she would not travel again.
But earlier this year the unexpected happened. She called me: she was too old, she said, to travel to an unknown destination by herself, but she was interested … would I take her to New Zealand for one last overseas trip?
“I’d be happy to do that for you, Mum!”
She didn’t want to move around. She wanted a base – to sleep in the same bed every night (I did try to push back a little on that, but she was insistent). Her friends and family who had been to NZ raved about the South Island, about the scenery, the people, the lakes, the wildlife … and certain culinary establishments as well …
“Hmm. Queenstown seems to fit the bill?”
This will be my seventh visit to Queenstown and her first. But for the first time, I’ve had to plan a trip through the eyes of an octogenarian non-traveller who wants (within reason) to maximise experiencing, but to minimise travelling. I’ve had to organise experiences for someone who can’t walk far, and who can’t climb hills, and who needs time to recover. Neither of us have huge amounts of money. My mother does not have a huge amount of energy. What she does have, in spades, is curiosity. No lounging about in the luxury of a sterile resort or cruise-ship for her!
Feel free to tag along for what will surely be a slow-paced and (I hope) predictable holiday.
But more than anything I want it to be an experience my mother will love.
She deserves it.
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