By: Connor Glasset, Secondary Education Major, Champlain College
I have been fortunate enough to call three other countries, besides America, my home in my short 21 years of life. In that time I have had the opportunity to travel and explore a baker’s dozen or so more countries. And without fail, I always run into stereotypical American travellers and vacationers. With their socks and sandals combos, fanny packs, NFL jerseys, obnoxious irreverence for everyone else around them and all together ignorance for the history and culture of the places they are visiting, there is nothing more in this world that irks me. However, I must admit with great embarrassment that I happened to be as completely clueless on one such hike up Mt. Eden this week. Although I must assure you, I wasn’t wearing flip-flops and white socks nor do I own any NFL jerseys, but I was completely conscious and respectful of all the other hikers around me. (Sometimes I do wish I had a fanny pack though. Don’t judge me.)
It was a beautiful, partly cloudy morning when I met up with Seth Aubin and Ali Sousa on the lime green couches in ground floor common room for 9:00am. Advantageously, we decided to make the most of the low 70 degree early morning weather by going for a hike. Allie took the lead leaving WSA, turning onto Symonds Street directing us up the hill toward the Mt. Eden region of Auckland. After about a fifteen-minute walk out of the central business district and through the more residential streets of Mt. Eden, we arrived at the car park at the base of our destination. There, we were directed by a kind Kiwi woman that the walking trail we were in search of was off to our right, up the earthen steps. Thanking her, we departed.
Now, there are two ways to summit Mt. Eden: along the paved path that was once intended, but no longer used for cars, or by way of the dirt path through the bush. Being adventurers, we naturally chose the latter. The first leg of the trail was the longest and moderately steep. We walked under trees and around bushes; all the while the cicadas hummed, providing us with a natural soundtrack for our journey. At one point, one fell from its perch on an overhead branch, landing on my shoulder. Luckily, Ali quite literally had my back and quickly brushed it away. We came out from under the trees as the path opened onto a clearing and leveling off point on the hill. We stayed for a few moments, let our heartbeats return to normal, and snapped a few photos. Continue reading