The Account of a Lifetime

January 19, 2010

The Furthest Edge

Filed under: A day in the life of... — xisor @ 10:35 am

There’s a high chance that this is the absolute furthest I’ll ever be from ‘home’. Home’s a funny concept these days but for the time being I still think of it as St Andrews. This applies in two cases. Firstly ‘…is where the heart is’, which I think rather nicely speaks for itself, though more explicitly it’s where a particular, sometimes hat-sporting young redhead resides. Secondly, and more obscurely, it is ‘…where you hang your hat’.

Now, if you’ll pay careful attention:Spot Robin's head!

And compare with:

Well, you’ll notice that my hat is both here, in New Zealand, and also cohabitting my academic brother’s, Robin’s, head. To that end, my hat (which I gifted to him since it suited him so well, and bought a replacement for myself) now resides in both hemispheres. One with me, one with him. To that end, my hat hangs in St Andrews.In any case, down here in Oban, Stewart Island, is a very strange place to be. It’s very near the tuatara with which I’m vaguely obsessed. I talk about them all the time, but I’ve made almost no effort to find them. Like someone who collects unicorn dolls or paints dragons, I suppose. But I know they’re out there. That can be my religion, my belief.

For now I will satisfy myself with thoughts of heading backwards. Homewards, I suppose. Definitely northwards. We’re bound for Te Anau in the morning and aiming to be hitting Christchurch by this Saturday. Then it’s back to travelling alone. Heh, everytime I think of that since the beginning of 2009, I’ve been assailed by an echo, a memory. When Jackson Lake discusses the companions. They leave because they should, becase they find someone else, because they forget me. But most of all, because they break my heart.

I don’t think it’s fair to say Jonny’s in danger of breaking my heart by any means, it is always a strange thing to be ‘moving on’ in my travels. I do wonder how long it’ll take until I look at St Andrews and find that there’ll be no-one there, that my idea of St Andrews would be gone and would only, could only live on in everyone who’d left.

Deary me, oddly melancholy. I think that’s a very strong case for why I wouldn’t take up the hut ranger idea too far. I could barely spend ten weeks in E20 without folks first denoting me headphone guy then, before too long, developing an utterly incredible association of friends. A quite bizarre, quite wonderful thought really.


I’ve a few ideas for what to next, where to go and what’ll happen, but I have an everpresent fear, a lingering worry that I doubt I’ll ever be rid of. It assails my mind when calm and becalms my excitement with its unwelcome musings. Still, concentration, a cup of tea and often the consultation seem to have carried me so far so good. Dilligence, vigilance, honesty and even a good dollop of hope should carry the day. Failing that, a lovely spot of vindication and tea will just have to do.

What the…

Right, weird now. Found out two days ago that a friend of Jonny’s has no sense of smell. I haven’t stopped laughing (for very long) since hearing this. No matter how many times I ask, it never stops being funny. To me. Oh dear.


1 Comment »

  1. You needn’t worry about St Andrews. I have no intention of ever leaving. I’m going to set a record for the most degrees held by one person, working in Taste and become a vegetarian and have a house full of cats.

    Comment by Rachael — January 19, 2010 @ 8:14 pm | Reply

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