low light, late nights, fast film

1600 iso - shot digitally, ambient light, found objects in the office. The longer you spend in your environment, the more you see.

Good Looking Celebrity People Saying Swear Words

Do we need yet another reminder to vote? Yes, New Zealand and America I’m talking to you. A swift kick in the ass is never a bad thing when the timing is right – and that time is now. So even if there is a sense of complacency rolling in, remember you need to vote. We all have opinions of which way we want these elections to go – but unless you actually put pen to paper on the day then your opinion is absolutely useless.

But don’t take my word for it – have a look at this vid where the fat kid from Superbad reminds us of our right to lose the war on drugs while playing Halo and Sarah Silverman takes her bra off… man I love politics…

I Am Buffman

This is a big shout-out to the fine folks at Buff headwear. They’ve been kind enough to offer team for the Tour d’Afrique sponsorship for our adventure! For those of you not in the know a Buff is a sort of scarf come neck gator that is a great little product for the wilderness. It protects you from the chill as well as the sun – which will be the big plus in the desert. They do a great job of blocking out blowing sand, shading eves for sunny naps and working as a emergency toque (I am Canadian after all)…

Cruise on over to their site and have a look at what they have to offer – they’ve been great to us, so if you’re looking for a stocking stuffer this Christmas; try and return the favour!

http://www.buff.es/en/index.php?p=NZL

Scott Kennedy - Reissued

This piece was written in the days following my running of the Motatapu Marathon for the second time in March 2006. I’ve since run this even twice more – once with music and once without… I hope you enjoy!
Sk

A Marathon In the Key of Life

Last Saturday I ran, for the second year in a row, the Motatapu Marathon. it is a backcountry race that crosses several back-blocks sheep stations that for the other 364 days a year are closed to the public. so there is a two-fold draw to race in this event. first, the obvious draw, to race against the competition and yourself. but the more lucrative purpose is to get to cross this amazing piece of land that you only have one chance a year to do. with a mix of both of those reasons dancing in my head, I fronted up to the start.

For me music is more then something that you hear on the radio. When I write I hear music, when I ski, the music plays. And when I run, my iPod is my most reliable training partner. Maybe it's something to take away the boredom, the pain, maybe it's the placebo that carries me through. I'm not sure the answer, but it's safe to say my life has a soundtrack.

8am, its cold I can still see my breath. 500 runners shuffle nervously at the start line trying to mentally prepare for what's about to happen. I feel good, prepared, stretched. I want to go. I want to start. I'm sick of waiting around. Let’s go. Under starter’s orders now, the briefing is done. I feel beneath my shirt and press play. Then the gun.

"Beautiful Day" U2 - ”it's a beautiful day, sky falls you feel it, it's a beautiful day, don't let it slip away." I feel great, off running as fast as I can, keeping pace, feeling good. there is blur of people all around, mad passing, jockeying for position, elbows out, fight for good road. "Take me to that other place, teach me, I know I'm not a hopeless case" getting into rhythm now getting to my pace all feels good - this is what I trained for.

"My Music @ Work" The Tragically Hip - it's time to get down to business, I'm here for the long haul this isn't a sprint, get settled in. at my pace now, I pass some, some pass me. not worried, I'm racing my race. it's all in my head now "outside the darkness lurks, my music at work, my music at work." 7k's down all feeling good.

"Last Exit" Pearl Jam – I have to drink, have to breathe, "Under my breath...I swear by sin... For better or for worse...a best we began... Let the sun climb, oh, burn 'way my mask Three days, and maybe longer" the pain has begun, I knew it would arrive, it always does. Slow at first, creeping in like a low fog. it touches my lungs first. The air stings to breathe. big exhale, clear the lungs, reset the system. still the fog creeps, deeper inside. I close my eyes, time to make peace, time to relish the pain that will come. If I fight it now, it will only lash back twice as hard. This is what I signed up for.

"World Wide Suicide" Pearl Jam - "And in all the madness, Thought becomes numb and naive, So much to talk about, And nothing for us to say, It’s the same every day" it's a crazy sport, to choose to put yourself out there, to choose to hurt when you don't have to. there isn't some wildebeest chasing me, I'm not perusing a buffalo to feed my family, I have decided that I want to do this. I try and put those thoughts out of my mind and just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, I start to pass into my own world, in a cocoon away from the others around me. In a crowd completely alone.

"Know your rights" The Clash - I'm angry now. The hunger to achieve, my best is flowing through me. Attacking hills and charging down the other side, "This is a public service announcement, with guitars" the music is feeding me power now, not just reflecting my mood but projecting it. Joe Strummer screams in my ears, "Get up and scream!" It keeps me going. 20k's down, feeling alright. I see a friend at an aid station, I'm too buggered to form words of hello, I just smile and wave as I take the cup of water. The sun is high now, hot in the sky. I put on my cap to shade my eyes. I try and remember to drink but my dehydrating brain can't fend for itself. I look to my arm where I have scrawled projected split times and words of encouragement like, "DRINK" and "EAT", I take a sip of energy gel, it has the consistency of maple syrup and tastes like children's cough medicine. Horrible stuff, but it works. The aid station is a spec behind me now. I'm in the high hanging valley now. 15km uphill in the heat of the sun, this is the crux.

"Sweet Emotion" Aerosmith - I'm in the grey world now. it is like there a shadowy blanket around me, insulating me from the joy of the world. the scenery is spectacular but all I can feel is pain. my throat burns from breathing hard for hours, my chest aches from overfilling my lungs a thousand times in a row, "Said my get up and go musta got up and went" my legs are like stone, my knees throb. I take another drink and put my head down, "sweet emotion, sweet emotion" I remember the goal to finish.

"Where the Streets have no Name" U2 - the organ brings me back to the now, pulling me out of the shadow world. I look to the sky and see the most amazing place on earth. untouched valleys, golden grass as far as I can see. "I want to run, I want to hide, I want to tare down the walls that hold me inside, I want to reach out and touch the flame, where the streets have no name." for the first time in hours a smile reaches my face. Some people talk about a runners high, until you have felt it you really have no concept for what it's all about. "blown by the wind, blown by the wind" it feels like you are on a ride, detached from your legs as they run on their own beneath you. I look down to my legs and I can't feel a thing, the pain is gone, I'm not even telling them what to do anymore, I'm on autopilot now. I laugh, look to the mountains, take a drink and kick up the pace. it's time to go, time to move before the endorphin high wears off and I plunge back to reality.

"Run" Pacifier - "And so you run, What you holding on, holding on to, Run, Life is going on, all around you, Run, What you holding on, holding on to, Run, Look what's going on, all around you" still on a high I pass the 30k mark, downhill now, I'm off pace but happy, I pass a few people and feel good, drink, gel, drink. "Don't want to have to make a change, wouldn’t want to exaggerate the pain, Go running back to the old ways" skipping downhill my knees hurt but I don't care. 32k's, 10ks to go I pull out the secret weapon. The Red Bull hits me like mainline heroin, the caffeine rocks me and the sugar lights a fire beneath me.

"Rockin' in the Free World" Neil Young - like an old friend Neil's scream in my year urging me down the home stretch, "Got a man of the people, says keep hope alive, Got fuel to burn, got roads to drive." I pass a few others and try and keep something for the home stretch, into the trees now, muddy in places and all over the place. Watch the footing, too close now to fuck up.

"Home Again" Shihad - "It's been a day of, tiny triumphs, it's been a week spent in despair." the end is near, soon it will be all over and the pain will start to fade, and it will be all worth it. The going is steep now, loose gravel and rocks threaten my steps. keep focus, stay in the now, charging hard I hit the flat riverbed at the bottom. 6ks to go. the pain is returning, I can't fool my body forever, it knows the race is almost done. there is only so long I can keep up with this output. I swallow some more water and hit the first river crossing. refreshing at first. but the cold fills me to the very bones. My feet are numb by the time I get to the other side 10 meters from the far side. I take a few strides and my feet scream. the glacially fed river came to just past my knees but it is my feet that are paying the price. I shuffle a few strides before I force myself back into a pathetic jog. as my feet return to life I see the next river.

"No one knows" Queens of the Stone Age - "I journey through the desert, Of the mind, With no hope, I follow" the second river hurts more then the first, the third is worse yet, by the time I hit 4 and 5 my legs are totally numb and I am so fucking over this race. then at the darkest moment between songs I hear something else, I hear a cheer. I'm almost there, 2ks to go. I find a new gear and kick it in. it's almost over and I am going to finish this as a sprint!

"Mr. Brightside" The Killers, "I'm coming out of my cage, And I’ve been doing just fine, Gotta gotta gotta be down, because I want it all." I round the corner to see a couple hundred people cheering me on to the finish. I give it everything, no point in leaving fuel in the tank, charging hard I cross the line and the clock stops. for the first time in four and a half hours I stop. it feels odd, like when you first get off a treadmill, uneasy with the lack of inertia. I feel ill, sick, my head is spinning, I walk to the drinks table and down two glasses of water before I realize Soph is in front of my. We hug and the race is over.

The music stops, the dance is over. I walk and stretch and talk to friends, Soph holds my hand and for the first time in hours I feel love. The pain and toil that the race provided was a beast to be overcome, I fought it with everything I had and I won. The war was over and the peace was enough to bring me to tears.

26 miles
42 Kilometres
4 hours 30 minutes
73 songs

Paradise Lost and Found

In this blog I talk at length about the joy of setting sail to far away lands and the spirit of discovery. Sometimes that distant land is a closer then you think – this past weekend I went on a fantastic mountain bike trip with a group of good friends. We rode into the historic Skippers Canyon – only a few kilometres from our homes in Queenstown. This seldom visited canyon is a treasure-trove of fun riding and run-down structures from a forgotten era. A century and a half ago, before sheep farmers, bungy jumping visionaries and t-shirt shop magnates opened up shop in Queenstown, some 5000 people lived in this neighbouring canyon in search of gold. These days all that’s left is their abandoned homes, mining relics of gold yet to be found and a road that duels with the Road-of-Death in Bolivia as one of the most frightening in the world. This photo essay is all about the spirit of discovery that drew gold miners, dreamers and adventurers 150 years ago into the canyon - and the same spirit that drew seven friends to follow in their footsteps and re-discover paradise lost.

Technology, air travel and perspective

Do you ever get the feeling like people in the modern world take things for granted? Modern technology, air travel, cell phones – we’ve become so used to these things that at the mere mention that they might be taken away we deflate into a blubbering pile of uselessness. It’s an interesting by-product of the modern world. Have a look at this clip of a comic named Louis CK (no, I don’t know who the hell he is either) – he pretty much hits the nail on the head. Cheers to Matthew Good and his blog (http://www.matthewgood.org/) for the heads up on the video.



So what do you think? Interesting social commentary or throwaway talk show fodder? Discuss.
Cheers,
Sk

Sudan – isn't that the place with all the AK-47’s?

As I’ve been preparing for my bike adventure in Africa and chatting to more and more people about it, there is one commonality with the folks I talk to. There mere mention of Sudan congers up feelings of trepidation. Just the name sparks visions of poverty, civil war, genocide and extreme heat. All of those descriptions are true. There is no denying that Sudan is a wild place, there are areas that are definite no-go zones and areas where personal safety and living conditions are maybe too intrepid for anyone who doesn’t have a former SAS soldier as a travelling buddy.

Now let’s be clear, I love adventure, I love challenge and I love shattering predisposed assumptions of destinations. BUT, I’m not stupid. I’m not going any place that I’ll be in any more danger then walking on the street in New York City, catching a taxi in London or riding my bike in Toronto. But there is no denying that it is going to be a very interesting place to travel through – I can’t wait to experience it and do my best to convey what it is like, to all of you.

Have a look at this video – for a taste of what we are all in for!

You can't be neutral on a moving train

Every Friday I have lunch with a few fellow Queenstown fella’s – we call it boys lunch, we sit around for a couple of hours, eat a good meal and solve the problems of the world. You’d think that with a moniker like boys lunch the discussion would revolve around rugby, tits and ass – but I guess we aren’t the usual sort of boys. Politics is the chat de-jour and it’s election season – everywhere. There’s the one that everyone knows about – in the good old U, S and A. but don’t forget that in both Canada and New Zealand are about to hit the poles and elect or maybe re-elect a Prime Minister. The interesting discussion often revolves around the concept that although these elections are in different parts of the world, the issues that are at the heart are the same. As we eat and talk we shake our heads like old men unable to comprehend why the world doesn’t see it our way. It shouldn’t be this hard, but why is it?

When you look at the issues – the environment, the economy, health care, and education – you’d think we’d all want the same thing. At least our Friday lunch group is in agreement – but maybe that’s because we are all a bunch of artsy-fartsy-fucking-liberals. Label me if you want – that’s a label I’ll take any day. Much to my amazement, there are many out there that don’t share this point of view. Some think we should all fend for ourselves – that the environment can take care of itself and climate change is a fraud. Social safety nets are for the weak and the chaff that doesn’t cut it should be scattered to the wind. Only the strong survive and the weak of the heard get picked off by the lions of poverty, hopelessness and war.

How is this idea even possible? How is it that we can look at our fellow man with such disconnection that we’d even fathom such moral atrocities. The more I’ve travelled the more I’ve come to realize that people from around the world are not the vastly different cultures we’ve be bred to think. We all have the same base ambitions – we want a place to live, a safe environment for our families, food to eat, clean water to drink and the opportunity to be happy. Why is it that in western culture we have the ambition to get away from those base needs and swim into the murky waters that are governed by monetary ambition and greed? I’m not indorsing the notion of communism, nor the ideal of socialism – what I am hopeful for is a global re-emergence of a sense of family. A family that looks at everyone as a brother, a sister or a cousin. In the world today what we do locally has an impact across the globe – we have power, like never before. As a society we have the ability to take the power back, just by making choices – we can drink fair trade coffee and change the lived of African workers. We can eat free-range eggs and change the way chickens are raised – Jamie Oliver, a fucking-celebrity-chef is changing the way the UK eats chicken, just by showing how battery farms work on his TV show. We can eat organic vegetables and drive the prices down to the point where they are affordable to all. There is squandered power in our numbers.

We need to seriously look at what we are doing to this planet and collectively start to give a shit. Granted we’ve come a long, long way. Even looking back to the pre-Inconvenient Truth era and there is an ocean of improvement. People are thinking about issues like recycling, alternative energy and climate change. We need to look at these issues in terms of how they can benefit our economy – not hinder it. By putting money into research and development alternative energy technology can be found and a solution to climate change can be gleamed and profit can be the result too. We’ve done so much to get the momentum changed and get the ball rolling. We can’t let it stop now – it’s to the point where if we keep the pressure on, we can win this fight.

There is no denying that the global economy is getting the shit kicked out of it. I won’t dare make light of that – innocent, everyday folks are going to lose money. Except for the everyday folks who are CEO’s of major corporations – they’ll be fine. In fact if the right-wing parties are elected in said elections, these well-off citizens could see a healthy lowering of their taxes. The National Party in New Zealand (the official opposition at the moment, and looking poised to win this election) is promising to lower taxes across the board. Hey, who doesn’t want to pay less tax? The problem is that the government is pretty much running just above water at the moment – meaning that to lower taxes, social programs will have to be cut. Perhaps it’s the Canadian socialist in me – but I’d rather pay a little more tax and have things like, oh I don’t know – a hospital, a school, how about a nicely paved road. I think all that is worth twenty bucks a week.

The biggest choice we can make is in the voting booth. Canada that means you tomorrow – America next month and NZ a couple days before. We can change the system – we can take the power away from the fat-cats who turn their backs on the environment, the middle class and the next generation. I believe in the ties that bind us together, the band of brotherhood of decency that we all share. I believe that we won’t leave people behind not just in far off corners of the globe but from the streets in our own cities. We can choose to make more money and leave the less fortunate behind – or we can choose to change the system to a mechanism that cares. A system that doesn’t fast-track the road to war and refuse to fight for the environment.

Of course, like my Friday boys lunch – I could very well be preaching to the choir. You could all agree with me, nod your head and move on – but that’s not good enough, not any more. Today you have a homework assignment. We all have friends that don’t necessarily share our political points of view; we need to talk to these people – tell them our points of view, tell them what matters to us in the world today. We need to convince them that this isn’t a lost cause, that the environment, the poor and the disenfranchised are worth saving. We can draw a line in the sand and say no more, not on my watch. Hope will guide us through, hope in what our countries can become, because without hope, we have nothing worth fighting or voting for.

Rise. Life is in motion. I'm stuck in line.

Rise. You can't be neutral on a moving train.

And if hope could grow from dirt like me. It can be done.

Won't let the light escape from me.

Won't let the darkness swallow me.

This is our chance to make a difference – I for one am not going to sit back and let opportunity pass me by.
Scott Kennedy
October 13, 2008

So what’s with this new logo?

Keen observers of this blog will notice that this logo has made an appearance as of late. There is a reason for that number 10 in the centre of it all – in 2009 Adventureskope is 10 years old! Woo-hoo! In 1999 I began my career as a photographer and writer – it’s been a great ten years, I’ve worked with some awesome people in some incredible locations and I’ve loved every minute of it! To help celebrate this milestone 2009 is going to be a special year – it’s starting off with a real bang with my big biking adventure in Africa and promises to go from strength to strength. I’ve got some cool things in store – but you’re going to have to be patient –it’ll be worth the wait! One thing you can go have a look at is my newly re-furbished homepage on http://www.adventureskope.com/ - hope you like it!

So even though it’s a bit early to start popping corks – I do want to start the ball rolling and say a huge thank-you and cheers for all the support to those who’ve been with from the beginning! Stay tuned for more specific soliloquies of thanks, blasts from the past, new t-shirt designs, commemorative art and more!

Cheers!
sk

Local heroes

I was lucky enough to check out a pretty inspirational slideshow last night in Queenstown. Max Grant, Kiwi sea kayaking guru, put on a great talk, with stunning imagery of his recent trip paddling around Fiordland (The Southwest corner of the South Island of NZ). Along with his daughter and a few friends they tackled some really far out sections of the coast – miles and miles from any sort of civilization in weather that alternated between picturesque and utterly horrible. The sea conditions were everything from mill-pond flat to churning white-water that was severe enough to give one expedition member sea sickness to the point of evacuation. It was a great show – but what really stuck was a sentiment Max put through right at the end. Every year he uses his holidays to go on these amazing trips in New Zealand – he isn’t some sponsored athlete. He’s just a normal guy with a lot of ambition and vision; he ended the talk by saying, “you guys are so lucky down here, this sort of landscape is right on your doorstep.”

The comment sent a slight shutter through the crowd and a collective, “shit, we better do something cool this weekend.” Now here is a similar story, half a world away – good British friends, Steve Brown and Leyla Fuad are in the midst of riding a tandem bike the length of the UK, raising money for Leukaemia research. It’s an amazing trip, and they’ve almost completed it – if you want to help them raise some funds check out their site (http://www.justgiving.com/steveandleyla). What do these two adventures have in common? The proximity to home.

Too often we assume that adventures, cool trips and worthy goals have to take place a million miles from home. Not so, as these two very different trips prove in spades. It’s a concept that has been near and dear to my heart for quite some time and it’s an idea that I’ll sing from the rooftops. Adventure is everywhere and available to all of us. Yes, I’m getting ready to ride my bike across Egypt and Sudan – but in my mind Steve and Leyla’s trip is just as exciting and all they did was head out the front door.

The great Walter Bonatti once said, “The mountains are the means, the man is the end. The idea isn’t to reach the top of the mountains – but to improve the man.” Adventure, challenge, travel, climbing, cycling, kayaking – they are all the means. And all of us can find the means – and with that seek out our dreams. Dreams plus effort become reality - just ask Max, Steve and Leyla.

sk

Scott Kennedy Bio - Video

So who am I? If you really want to know what i'm all about have a look at this new bio video - it's hot off the press!
enjoy,
sk

Guest Blogger – Bruce Springsteen!

Ok so Bruce and I couldn’t get our shit together and decide on a day for him to take the reins of the Adventureskope Blog and in the end I thought it was easier just to pass on a speech that he made at an Obama rally in Philadelphia. Actually I don’t personally know Bruce – I have however grown a soul patch in the past and I do own a white t-shirt and a red baseball cap. Kidding aside I’m passing on this speech today because ‘The Boss’ has really hit this one out of the park – he’s captured the feelings that are palpable around the globe. It’s time for a change, but not just a change in America – the American dream and all its incarnations around the globe need a fresh start…

Bruce Springsteen’s Speech:

“Hello Philly,

“I am glad to be here today for this voter registration drive and for Barack Obama, the next President of the United States. I’ve spent 35 years writing about America, its people, and the meaning of the American Promise. The Promise that was handed down to us, right here in this city from our founding fathers, with one instruction: Do your best to make these things real. Opportunity, equality, social and economic justice, a fair shake for all of our citizens, the American idea, as a positive influence, around the world for a more just and peaceful existence. These are the things that give our lives hope, shape, and meaning. They are the ties that bind us together and give us faith in our contract with one another.

“I’ve spent most of my creative life measuring the distance between that American promise and American reality. For many Americans, who are today losing their jobs, their homes, seeing their retirement funds disappear, who have no healthcare, or who have been abandoned in our inner cities. The distance between that promise and that reality has never been greater or more painful.

“I believe Senator Obama has taken the measure of that distance in his own life and in his work. I believe he understands, in his heart, the cost of that distance, in blood and suffering, in the lives of everyday Americans. I believe as president, he would work to restore that promise to so many of our fellow citizens who have justifiably lost faith in its meaning. After the disastrous administration of the past 8 years, we need someone to lead us in an American reclamation project. In my job, I travel the world, and occasionally play big stadiums, just like Senator Obama. I’ve continued to find, wherever I go, America remains a repository of people’s hopes, possibilities, and desires, and that despite the terrible erosion to our standing around the world, accomplished by our recent administration, we remain, for many, a house of dreams. One thousand George Bushes and one thousand Dick Cheneys will never be able to tear that house down.

“They will, however, be leaving office, dropping the national tragedies of Katrina, Iraq, and our financial crisis in our laps. Our sacred house of dreams has been abused, looted, and left in a terrible state of disrepair. It needs care; it needs saving, it needs defending against those who would sell it down the river for power or a quick buck. It needs strong arms, hearts, and minds. It needs someone with Senator Obama’s understanding, temperateness, deliberativeness, maturity, compassion, toughness, and faith, to help us rebuild our house once again. But most importantly, it needs us. You and me. To build that house with the generosity that is at the heart of the American spirit. A house that is truer and big enough to contain the hopes and dreams of all of our fellow citizens. That is where our future lies. We will rise or fall as a people by our ability to accomplish this task. Now I don’t know about you, but I want that dream back, I want my America back, I want my country back.

“So now is the time to stand with Barack Obama and Joe Biden, roll up our sleeves, and come on up for the rising.”

Thin Air

“Aisle or window?” – it’s a question as a frequent traveller that I get all the time. Everyone has their preference – although you’d struggle to find anyone who requests the middle. Some people are die-hard aisle people; the freedom to get up whenever you want is a biggie for people. I’m a window seat man – always have been. Maybe it’s because I always get clobbered in the elbow by the drinks trolley and the person sitting inside me has to use the bathroom at the same rate as a six year old. For me it isn’t really the lesser of two evils, I really like the window. I’ve paid a lot of money to go for this ride and I want to see where I’m going. I love looking out that little porthole and seeing the world go by. I could sit there for hours (and often have) and just watch the landscape unfold below me. Here are three photos that illustrate my point – you’d never get to see these things sitting on the aisle…

Southern Alps - New Zealand

New York City - USA

Alberta Wheat Field - Canada

The Expatriate Act

According to Wikipedia (1 million opinions can’t be wrong!) An expatriate (in abbreviated form, expat) is a person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing or legal residence. The word comes from the Latin ex (out of) and patria (country, fatherland). I’m most definitely in that group. I was born in Canada but for the last six years I’ve lived in New Zealand. I don’t even contemplate it much these days, but every now and again it hits me that I’m living miles from where I stared my life.

This realization usually comes about when I see something Canadian on the news. Last night it was a delightful little story about how Canadian PM Stephen Harper directly quoted a parliamentary address by the then Australian PM John Howard – a mere 48hrs after Howard made the original speech. You’d think he’d have his own opinions, especially seeing as the speech was an attempt to urge the Canadian parliament to join the US in the war in Iraq! This blog posting isn’t about the trifecta of village idiots (Bush, Howard and Harper) it’s actually more about the reality of living overseas from your home and native land, as the song goes.

More often then not, the bits and pieces we see in the media about Canada are stories like what came out yesterday (the news graphic they used was quite amusing and a little embarrassing – a kangaroo with moose horns attached – as soon as I saw that I knew I was in for trouble). The other stories that tend to get traction are large hockey fights, snowstorms that shut down cities and fluff pieces to end the newscast – things like clubbing baby seals.

But what’s it really like to be an expat? Here in Queenstown we have quite a large non-kiwi sect of the population and the results are very interesting. I think it’s the distance makes the heart grow fonder factor – this town is full of very patriotic folks. Take my usual Wednesday night activity – I play ice hockey down at the local rink. As a kid I played hockey in Canada (we all do) but by the time I was 18 I’d moved onto other things. But take me out of Canada and my desire to get on the ice intensifies to a fever pitch and all of a sudden I can’t get enough of it. And I’m not alone – I play hockey with players from all over the place – Canadians, Americans, Czechs, Sweed’s, the odd Australian, Pomms, and even some Kiwi’s.

Maybe it’s like living near an airport – at first the planes keep you up all night; but move away and you need those planes. There's a fabric that knits into the identity that is my heritage – that garment is a patchwork of hockey games, roller r’s, snow days, hearing The Hip on the radio and poutine on the menu. Maybe it takes leaving to appreciate what is really important – and maybe what’s really important aren’t the big ticket items you expect them to be. Maybe what makes up your identity are a thousand little things that on their own seem almost silly. Flickers of memories and a self imposed perception of what we’re supposed to do. Is it odd to feel more Canadian then ever living 13,000km from the town I grew up in?

Years ago I had a Canadian flag stitched to my backpack – it’s a badge of honour for Canucks overseas. It’s not there anymore – I don’t need it. My Canadian flag is stitched to my soul.

sk