Chapter 57
Chapter Fifty-Seven
I had planned on a walk around Wanaka and a picnic by the lake before I set off for home the next day. I hadn’t explored the town and there was no reason not to. The sky was cloudless, exactly as I always imagined New Zealand to be; the air was warm but not stuffy, and I was feeling lighter than I had for a long time.
It was only when I was stood outside the information board in the town centre that I realised just how close I was to Queenstown (a couple of hours on the bus) and then I remembered Mairéad’s text about going to see The Lord of The Rings location. The map said that I could visit the exact place where my fantasy crush, Aragorn, had fallen from the cliffs during a battle in The Two Towers. I could actually go there and stand on the cliff myself, right where he had fallen off. The thought of it made my body fizz with excitement. I’d never been to a movie location before, and I was actually going to do it.
The bus journey was fine. I kept my head facing the window and allowed myself to be distracted by the scenery. It really was as green and luscious as it was in the film, which made me fall in love with New Zealand even more. I just needed my Aragorn. Or did I? Maybe I didn’t need a man, at all? I’d packed myself a picnic; I didn’t need a man for that (although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t long for a picnic date, even if it happened just once in my life).
I think if I were a character in The Lord of The Rings , I’d have been Frodo, leaving his village for the first time, petrified and brave at the same time. In search of the ring (Jack) that was actually no good for him at all. I hadn’t stopped to think about what I had done, I’d been so consumed with Jack and just getting there. But for the first time, I acknowledged it: I’d travelled to the other side of the world, on my own, stepped out of my comfort zone, just like Frodo, and seen things and people I never would have met had I not done it. And I’d survived. Nothing had taken my life away, not even the fear because I didn’t let it. And for that, I felt proud.
When the bus pulled up at the tollgate, I made my way on foot up a track and was welcomed by a herd of miniature ponies and four donkeys who stopped by to say hello. They seemed content and happy to be stroked and my mind wandered to Ned in his shed, his ears back, head low, lonely. I promised myself that when I got home I’d ask Sally if I could adopt him, and then I’d get him a companion because that’s what he needed really.
As I approached the top of the road, I stopped and stared at the view that had opened up before me. I recognised the mountains instantly – The Remarkables – they were just as beautiful and breathtaking as they were in the film: jagged and smoky grey with a hint of snow on the top. They really were remarkable .
I had a map; I’d purchased one from the information centre and I suddenly wished I could have visited all the locations. So I made another promise to myself that I would return to New Zealand one day and do just that.
I thought back to the sign that I so desperately wanted from my grandmother. She made it foggy in the field with Ned for a reason – so that I wouldn’t see any mushrooms. It was the clearest sign she could have given me, and I cursed myself for not listening to it. I would listen from now on.
My eyes fell to below the mountain, to Lake Wakatipu, at its crystal blue hue (that’s how it was described in the brochure) and glassy reflection. I had looked up the meaning of the colour blue; I had seen so much of it in New Zealand, that it felt almost symbolic. It meant freedom .
And as I stood there, staring at the blue, with the backdrop of The Remarkables in all their powerful, wonderful glory, I felt just that. I felt free.
I felt free for the first time in my life.