WanderLust Kaitlyn Jayne: from the Belly of Welly

our home

There are times when, upon waking, I have no recollection of where I am. The scene that dreamily materializes before me simply does not register. I open my eyes expecting something familiar. My rooms in Boulder or Longmont, or even my room at Wayne's or our hut at Awhi. Then drowsily my brain will pull back the covers on my consciousness, rub the sleep from my mind's eye, and on this particular morning, I wake with a smile because I'm staring at the ceiling in my new room. My room that I share with my best friend in a house we share with 5 friends, new and old, on a street we share with neighbors that we're meeting, in a city that currently has my heart on lockdown. I love Wellington. "What you seek is also seeking you."

^Photo: Jamie Feuerstein^
http://wanderingjamie.blogspot.co.nz/

city centre

Wellington is a mini San Francisco. Its steep, winding hills are dotted with victorian style houses aged, tall and narrow. Each house is uniquely charismatic and adorable, usually donning an elegant stained glass window on the facade. Multiple suburbs border the buzzy downtown scene, with two pedestrian malls and a long waterfront overlooking the harbor. I've already found a job at a restaurant/bar on Courtaney Place, and already quit after two nights of flinging watered down beer to eighteen year old uni students. The staff who work there are lovely and I plan on staying in touch, but I moved to Welly to be the happiest and healthiest version of myself, and working late nights in a bar is not how I'm going to achieve that. I have a few other things in mind…

Welly harbor by night

The city is surrounded by a greenbelt. A lazy, upside-down V of forest and bush hugging this cool little capitol. Much like Boulder, the land is set aside for preservation and recreation in order to keep people sane and prevent urban sprawl. There are long hikes and green patches to explore, from botanical gardens in the heart of the city all the way to the untamed, rugged beach if I tramp far enough. And I can reach nearly all of these walks within five minutes of my front door. The path to town, if I so choose, is through a forest overlooking a sea of houses and even further out, the turquoise sea. I literally expel an exclamation of excitement every time I make the trek.

Wellington is a big city with the heart of a small town. People look you in the eye and smile as they pass by. They offer help if you look lost and friendship if you strike up a conversation.

Wellington is my experiment. Having never moved to anywhere outside of Boulder, I'm using Wellington as my test subject to teach myself how to move to a city and thrive. Exploring not just the city, but myself. Practicing the ability to not be overwhelmed by all the possibilities, but to be conscious of the decisions I make and to live in and enjoy the moment. Filtering through the buzz of potential. There is something for everyone and everything for someone. Live music, trivia nights, arts and crafts nights, yoga, pilates, mountain biking, beer festivals, community gardens, graffiti art, volunteering, conservation, anti shark finning protests, anti off shore drilling demonstrations, museums, galleries, cafes of every motif, transvestites, athletes. So I'm dabbling in the art of trying it all on for size. Taking a big bite of the city life.

Two weeks in and it amazes me once again my capacity for adaptation. Life on the farm is but a distant memory. I miss it, the simplicity and unpretentiousness. But the excitement of a city is a high that's hard to come down from. The colors and shapes of the city mosaics. The people and the stimulation they bring. Their stories and faces and laughs and glimpses of what's underneath it all. What makes us all the same and so brilliantly different all at once. So this is my challenge to myself for the oncoming months. Go, do, be, push.

Welly Photo Montage: