We drove up from Wellington towards Palmerston North today. It’s a city that has history within Chris’s family since his uncle went to college there (he studied food technology; I clearly went on the wrong educational path…). And during that time, Chris’s dad visited him and did some physical labor I had no idea about (and would be hard to imagine if you knew him as he is today!) in order to fund his travels. For his first day, he tried to carry hay barrels and quit after one shift (it was physically grueling and intense, to say the least). Then, he proceeded to spend about six weeks, six days a week, about eight hours a day, picking strawberries. I cannot imagine Chris’s dad picking fruit all day, any day — ever!
Since Chris’s cousin’s husband is originally from Palmerston North, Chris asked him for suggestions on what to do. He pointed us to the Levin Adventure Park, a humongous outdoor playground with play areas for kids of multiple age ranges, and could even keep adults (like me!) entertained. The space was so well appointed that it even had clean public restrooms that were attended to regularly, plus an indoor picnicking area in the event of inclement weather.
Chris’s cousin’s husband also suggested we look into blueberry farms, since the area was known for them, and we were coming at peak blueberry season. So amazingly, Chris actually took us to a blueberry farm for pick-your-own! He has always been anti fruit picking (e.g. “Why am I paying to pick? It’s like I am paying to do work!!”), but he said that this was not apple picking (which he absolutely detests because in the Northeast of the U.S. once fall comes, this is what every family seems to do), and if we were going to do some fruit picking, it better be something as good as berries and in a place as beautiful as New Zealand. So, I suppose those are all fair points to make. When we arrived at the farm, Kaia was napping and very unhappy to be woken up. We plopped her on a chair overlooking the blueberry shrubs and said if she wanted to join us, she could. It took all of five minutes for her to ask to enter the picking area. Here, the owners said we could taste but “no free lunches,” so unfortunately for Kaia, she was blocked from tasting as much as she wanted. But she still enjoyed the experience and loved picking every single blueberry and happily dropping them into our bucket.
When the time came to weigh the blueberries and pay, I realized that credit card would not be accepted, and so Chris ended up driving about five minutes away to find the nearest ATM. When I explained this to the owner when I asked if she could hold my bucket of blueberries, she asked where Chris had gone, she looked at me as though I were crazy. Knowing we traveled all the way from New York to come here, she told me, “What?! No! That’s ridiculous – just for less than a kilo of blueberries?! That drive isn’t worth it!” And then she tried to tell me I could have almost a kilo of blueberries we picked for free!
“Ohmigosh — please, no, no, no!” I exclaimed to her, equally shocked by her generosity and kind gesture. “My husband already left to find an ATM. Plus, there is no way I am going to be the annoying American who stole blueberries from your farm!” She smiled at this.
While we waited for Chris to come back, we had some conversation, discussed the farm, her bed and breakfast right behind. She even entertained Kaia with puzzles and asking her about herself. It was really sweet, and I could just tell she genuinely enjoyed interacting with Kaia and must love kids. These are the types of interactions you tend to get overseas, when you’re not in the U.S., but you’re in small towns and in places where people are genuinely well meaning, warm, and kind hearted. New Zealanders/kiwis are known for their friendliness, and even though I didn’t take her up on her offer to get free blueberries, I truly appreciated the generosity and kindness she extended to us.
I always get a little sad when people are so distrustful. Of course I am old enough now to understand where those sentiments stem from. But in all the times I’ve traveled, 9.5 times out ten, I am greeted by warmth and kindness from total strangers. Traveling has made me more positive about the world even when things back home feel really like they are crumbling. These little moments are times I will always remember.