My New Zealand Thing
So, someone asked me about wallabies in New Zealand the other day. Yeah, wallabies. Not kangaroos, wallabies. And not in Australia, but New Zealand. Threw me for a loop at first, honestly.
Made me think back to a time a few years ago. I was planning this big trip, you see. Had it all mapped out, or so I thought. Was convinced I knew exactly what to expect. Had this idea about going off-grid, real remote stuff. Booked a cabin way out somewhere based on a couple of fuzzy pictures and a description that sounded like paradise.
Packed the car, told everyone I was heading for blissful isolation. Drove for hours. The road got rougher, then turned to dirt, then barely a track. Felt pretty adventurous, I’ll admit.
Finally got there. And the place? Well. Let’s just say ‘rustic’ was putting it mildly. More like ‘about to fall down’. The ‘scenic creek’ was a muddy ditch, and the ‘abundant wildlife’ consisted mainly of things that bite. No power, dodgy water. Not quite the paradise I’d pictured or paid for.
Total disaster. Had to basically turn around and find a motel back in the nearest town, feeling like a complete idiot. Wasted time, wasted money, all because I jumped in based on assumptions and a glossy description. Didn’t dig deep enough, you know?
So, these wallabies in New Zealand. Turns out, yeah, they are there. But they’re not supposed to be. Someone brought them over ages ago, and now they’re kind of a nuisance in some spots. Not exactly a native treasure.
It’s funny, isn’t it? You hear ‘wallaby’, you think Australia. You hear ‘New Zealand’, you think kiwis and sheep. But sometimes things aren’t quite what you assume. Like that cabin. Or like wallabies hopping around where you don’t expect ’em. Just another reminder to maybe check the details before you pack the car, eh?
