Description
Sleeping in a tent at 0°C to save every dollar: that’s the price of freedom. Between motel drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here is my final sprint in New Zealand.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Sleeping in a tent at zero degree to save every dollar, that's the price of freedom. Between mortal drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here's my final sprint in New Zealand. Keep Your Wings, le podcast. Chapter 14, here we go again. The Cook Islands were magical, but my return to New Zealand was brief, as I had planned another getaway to South Korea with a friend. But it's finally over, and now I'm back. Those three months of grueling work, sleeping in the van and having almost no social life beyond a few disastrous Tinder dates, had completely burned me out. But I had to come back. One last hurdle remained before heading back to hell, selling my van. There was no point in driving from Auckland to Blenheim, paying hundreds for the ferry and wasting hours on the road. I decided to get rid of it fast. The timing was perfect. Within 10 days, I found the buyer, a French student. She showed up with two mechanic friends who inspect the van from top to bottom. Their nitpicking forced me to drop my price. Despite the van being in great shape, final sale, $1,900. Since I bought it for $2,200 a year per year, losing only $200 for a year housing and transport wasn't a bad deal at all. I returned to Blenheim with a heavy heart. It was freezing on the South Island and since I no longer had my van, I was forced to sleep in a tent on the campsite. I had no proper gear, just a paper tin sleeping bag. I phoned Liam, as socially awkward as ever. Surprisingly, he was in a good mood and asked if I needed anything for the night. Well, since you're asking, I could use a blanket.
I can lend you one. No deposit required.
He said. Oh, okay, thanks. I replied, caught off guard by this tone.
However, regarding your rent...
He continued.
I can't give you the spot for free this time. The rush period starts in a few weeks. I'll give you a good price, don't worry.
I smiled politely while internally screaming. I was sleeping outside in near zero temperatures and now I had to pay for the privilege? It made no sense. I had to stay for free when I had a warm van. Liam is a businessman, true and true. And I could tell he had an angle.
Since it's late, take a room tonight so you don't have to pitch the tent. Just make a body tomorrow and key it up from top to bottom before you check out.
He offered. Oh, cheers, that's kind of you. Got it, I say with a stiff thumb up and a forced smile. The vacation was officially over. Work resumed the next day. I reunite with Ash, Ben, Beth, and a few new faces.
Hey, you're back.
Ben shouted, genuinely jovial.
Good to see a thun in your face. You got everything you need for the tent? Ground buck, extra blanket?
I'll take whatever you got. My hair mattress is trashed.
Ah, come to the storage room after work. I'll hook you up.
Perfect, thanks. I got back to it. Nothing had changed. The room was still a pain to clean and the guests were still pigs. I decided to take it philosophically and started collecting the half-full bottles of booze they abandoned in the fridge or under the beds. I bumped into Ash in the kitchenette.
Finally, you're back. Lyam won't stop overloading me. And death still does nothing. That woman is so slow.
How's the campervan project going? I interrupted.
Oh, I gave up. I'm going to rent a house. It will be much better. The camper was too expensive, and while you were gone, my car was stored. It was horrible. I did nothing to deserve that, you know?
Yeah, yeah, I remember. I was still here when you told me.
I've never had luck in my life.
She continued, her monologue gaining speed.
People are mean to me, even though I work harder than anyone. I'm never tanked for what I do.
The house is a great idea, I said, trying to steer the conversation away from the pity party. You'll have your own space, some privacy to relax.
I'm getting my electronic monitor up soon. I'm so happy.
Congratulations No more curfew then?
No, finally some peace. Anyway, don't stand around talking too long. Lion doesn't like slackers. Get back to work. I've already finished four rooms.
I just smile and grab my cart. Good God, she never stops talking. I thought. One detail struck me as I work. The Bibles. In New Zealand, you find them in almost every bedside drawer. Kiwis are quite religious, until recently, Parliament Session opened with a prayer. They still do, though they've since removed the mention of the Queen and Jesus. As a vacuum, the muscle memory returned. I was becoming highly efficient and the new managers noticed. They started giving me more hours, which my bank account appreciated. My world was even happier when the Thai restaurant took me back as a server and dishwasher. The rush had arrived. Customers were cycling through faster than my Tinder days in Taiwan. It was madness. Interestingly, New Zealand's rush hours start early. At 6pm, the place was packed. I had love watching the chef get angry when people showed up to eat at 8.30 on a weekday.
At this hour?
People have no respect. They had grumble in the kitchen. On weekends they were more lenient, often closing at 11pm or midnight for large groups. And the first bit of good news? No more plastic bag. They had switched to paper for takeout. Progress The trash still wasn't being sorted and the food waste was still appalling, but... But I wonder if it was any different in other restaurants. I was settled in for a final two stretch before leaving New Zealand for good. I had been here 13 months already. Time flies, yet it drags when you cut off from the world in Blenheim. But the goal was clear, stack as much cash as possible to keep the journey alive.
Description
Sleeping in a tent at 0°C to save every dollar: that’s the price of freedom. Between motel drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here is my final sprint in New Zealand.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Sleeping in a tent at zero degree to save every dollar, that's the price of freedom. Between mortal drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here's my final sprint in New Zealand. Keep Your Wings, le podcast. Chapter 14, here we go again. The Cook Islands were magical, but my return to New Zealand was brief, as I had planned another getaway to South Korea with a friend. But it's finally over, and now I'm back. Those three months of grueling work, sleeping in the van and having almost no social life beyond a few disastrous Tinder dates, had completely burned me out. But I had to come back. One last hurdle remained before heading back to hell, selling my van. There was no point in driving from Auckland to Blenheim, paying hundreds for the ferry and wasting hours on the road. I decided to get rid of it fast. The timing was perfect. Within 10 days, I found the buyer, a French student. She showed up with two mechanic friends who inspect the van from top to bottom. Their nitpicking forced me to drop my price. Despite the van being in great shape, final sale, $1,900. Since I bought it for $2,200 a year per year, losing only $200 for a year housing and transport wasn't a bad deal at all. I returned to Blenheim with a heavy heart. It was freezing on the South Island and since I no longer had my van, I was forced to sleep in a tent on the campsite. I had no proper gear, just a paper tin sleeping bag. I phoned Liam, as socially awkward as ever. Surprisingly, he was in a good mood and asked if I needed anything for the night. Well, since you're asking, I could use a blanket.
I can lend you one. No deposit required.
He said. Oh, okay, thanks. I replied, caught off guard by this tone.
However, regarding your rent...
He continued.
I can't give you the spot for free this time. The rush period starts in a few weeks. I'll give you a good price, don't worry.
I smiled politely while internally screaming. I was sleeping outside in near zero temperatures and now I had to pay for the privilege? It made no sense. I had to stay for free when I had a warm van. Liam is a businessman, true and true. And I could tell he had an angle.
Since it's late, take a room tonight so you don't have to pitch the tent. Just make a body tomorrow and key it up from top to bottom before you check out.
He offered. Oh, cheers, that's kind of you. Got it, I say with a stiff thumb up and a forced smile. The vacation was officially over. Work resumed the next day. I reunite with Ash, Ben, Beth, and a few new faces.
Hey, you're back.
Ben shouted, genuinely jovial.
Good to see a thun in your face. You got everything you need for the tent? Ground buck, extra blanket?
I'll take whatever you got. My hair mattress is trashed.
Ah, come to the storage room after work. I'll hook you up.
Perfect, thanks. I got back to it. Nothing had changed. The room was still a pain to clean and the guests were still pigs. I decided to take it philosophically and started collecting the half-full bottles of booze they abandoned in the fridge or under the beds. I bumped into Ash in the kitchenette.
Finally, you're back. Lyam won't stop overloading me. And death still does nothing. That woman is so slow.
How's the campervan project going? I interrupted.
Oh, I gave up. I'm going to rent a house. It will be much better. The camper was too expensive, and while you were gone, my car was stored. It was horrible. I did nothing to deserve that, you know?
Yeah, yeah, I remember. I was still here when you told me.
I've never had luck in my life.
She continued, her monologue gaining speed.
People are mean to me, even though I work harder than anyone. I'm never tanked for what I do.
The house is a great idea, I said, trying to steer the conversation away from the pity party. You'll have your own space, some privacy to relax.
I'm getting my electronic monitor up soon. I'm so happy.
Congratulations No more curfew then?
No, finally some peace. Anyway, don't stand around talking too long. Lion doesn't like slackers. Get back to work. I've already finished four rooms.
I just smile and grab my cart. Good God, she never stops talking. I thought. One detail struck me as I work. The Bibles. In New Zealand, you find them in almost every bedside drawer. Kiwis are quite religious, until recently, Parliament Session opened with a prayer. They still do, though they've since removed the mention of the Queen and Jesus. As a vacuum, the muscle memory returned. I was becoming highly efficient and the new managers noticed. They started giving me more hours, which my bank account appreciated. My world was even happier when the Thai restaurant took me back as a server and dishwasher. The rush had arrived. Customers were cycling through faster than my Tinder days in Taiwan. It was madness. Interestingly, New Zealand's rush hours start early. At 6pm, the place was packed. I had love watching the chef get angry when people showed up to eat at 8.30 on a weekday.
At this hour?
People have no respect. They had grumble in the kitchen. On weekends they were more lenient, often closing at 11pm or midnight for large groups. And the first bit of good news? No more plastic bag. They had switched to paper for takeout. Progress The trash still wasn't being sorted and the food waste was still appalling, but... But I wonder if it was any different in other restaurants. I was settled in for a final two stretch before leaving New Zealand for good. I had been here 13 months already. Time flies, yet it drags when you cut off from the world in Blenheim. But the goal was clear, stack as much cash as possible to keep the journey alive.
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Description
Sleeping in a tent at 0°C to save every dollar: that’s the price of freedom. Between motel drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here is my final sprint in New Zealand.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Sleeping in a tent at zero degree to save every dollar, that's the price of freedom. Between mortal drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here's my final sprint in New Zealand. Keep Your Wings, le podcast. Chapter 14, here we go again. The Cook Islands were magical, but my return to New Zealand was brief, as I had planned another getaway to South Korea with a friend. But it's finally over, and now I'm back. Those three months of grueling work, sleeping in the van and having almost no social life beyond a few disastrous Tinder dates, had completely burned me out. But I had to come back. One last hurdle remained before heading back to hell, selling my van. There was no point in driving from Auckland to Blenheim, paying hundreds for the ferry and wasting hours on the road. I decided to get rid of it fast. The timing was perfect. Within 10 days, I found the buyer, a French student. She showed up with two mechanic friends who inspect the van from top to bottom. Their nitpicking forced me to drop my price. Despite the van being in great shape, final sale, $1,900. Since I bought it for $2,200 a year per year, losing only $200 for a year housing and transport wasn't a bad deal at all. I returned to Blenheim with a heavy heart. It was freezing on the South Island and since I no longer had my van, I was forced to sleep in a tent on the campsite. I had no proper gear, just a paper tin sleeping bag. I phoned Liam, as socially awkward as ever. Surprisingly, he was in a good mood and asked if I needed anything for the night. Well, since you're asking, I could use a blanket.
I can lend you one. No deposit required.
He said. Oh, okay, thanks. I replied, caught off guard by this tone.
However, regarding your rent...
He continued.
I can't give you the spot for free this time. The rush period starts in a few weeks. I'll give you a good price, don't worry.
I smiled politely while internally screaming. I was sleeping outside in near zero temperatures and now I had to pay for the privilege? It made no sense. I had to stay for free when I had a warm van. Liam is a businessman, true and true. And I could tell he had an angle.
Since it's late, take a room tonight so you don't have to pitch the tent. Just make a body tomorrow and key it up from top to bottom before you check out.
He offered. Oh, cheers, that's kind of you. Got it, I say with a stiff thumb up and a forced smile. The vacation was officially over. Work resumed the next day. I reunite with Ash, Ben, Beth, and a few new faces.
Hey, you're back.
Ben shouted, genuinely jovial.
Good to see a thun in your face. You got everything you need for the tent? Ground buck, extra blanket?
I'll take whatever you got. My hair mattress is trashed.
Ah, come to the storage room after work. I'll hook you up.
Perfect, thanks. I got back to it. Nothing had changed. The room was still a pain to clean and the guests were still pigs. I decided to take it philosophically and started collecting the half-full bottles of booze they abandoned in the fridge or under the beds. I bumped into Ash in the kitchenette.
Finally, you're back. Lyam won't stop overloading me. And death still does nothing. That woman is so slow.
How's the campervan project going? I interrupted.
Oh, I gave up. I'm going to rent a house. It will be much better. The camper was too expensive, and while you were gone, my car was stored. It was horrible. I did nothing to deserve that, you know?
Yeah, yeah, I remember. I was still here when you told me.
I've never had luck in my life.
She continued, her monologue gaining speed.
People are mean to me, even though I work harder than anyone. I'm never tanked for what I do.
The house is a great idea, I said, trying to steer the conversation away from the pity party. You'll have your own space, some privacy to relax.
I'm getting my electronic monitor up soon. I'm so happy.
Congratulations No more curfew then?
No, finally some peace. Anyway, don't stand around talking too long. Lion doesn't like slackers. Get back to work. I've already finished four rooms.
I just smile and grab my cart. Good God, she never stops talking. I thought. One detail struck me as I work. The Bibles. In New Zealand, you find them in almost every bedside drawer. Kiwis are quite religious, until recently, Parliament Session opened with a prayer. They still do, though they've since removed the mention of the Queen and Jesus. As a vacuum, the muscle memory returned. I was becoming highly efficient and the new managers noticed. They started giving me more hours, which my bank account appreciated. My world was even happier when the Thai restaurant took me back as a server and dishwasher. The rush had arrived. Customers were cycling through faster than my Tinder days in Taiwan. It was madness. Interestingly, New Zealand's rush hours start early. At 6pm, the place was packed. I had love watching the chef get angry when people showed up to eat at 8.30 on a weekday.
At this hour?
People have no respect. They had grumble in the kitchen. On weekends they were more lenient, often closing at 11pm or midnight for large groups. And the first bit of good news? No more plastic bag. They had switched to paper for takeout. Progress The trash still wasn't being sorted and the food waste was still appalling, but... But I wonder if it was any different in other restaurants. I was settled in for a final two stretch before leaving New Zealand for good. I had been here 13 months already. Time flies, yet it drags when you cut off from the world in Blenheim. But the goal was clear, stack as much cash as possible to keep the journey alive.
Description
Sleeping in a tent at 0°C to save every dollar: that’s the price of freedom. Between motel drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here is my final sprint in New Zealand.
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Sleeping in a tent at zero degree to save every dollar, that's the price of freedom. Between mortal drama and the rush of the Thai restaurant, here's my final sprint in New Zealand. Keep Your Wings, le podcast. Chapter 14, here we go again. The Cook Islands were magical, but my return to New Zealand was brief, as I had planned another getaway to South Korea with a friend. But it's finally over, and now I'm back. Those three months of grueling work, sleeping in the van and having almost no social life beyond a few disastrous Tinder dates, had completely burned me out. But I had to come back. One last hurdle remained before heading back to hell, selling my van. There was no point in driving from Auckland to Blenheim, paying hundreds for the ferry and wasting hours on the road. I decided to get rid of it fast. The timing was perfect. Within 10 days, I found the buyer, a French student. She showed up with two mechanic friends who inspect the van from top to bottom. Their nitpicking forced me to drop my price. Despite the van being in great shape, final sale, $1,900. Since I bought it for $2,200 a year per year, losing only $200 for a year housing and transport wasn't a bad deal at all. I returned to Blenheim with a heavy heart. It was freezing on the South Island and since I no longer had my van, I was forced to sleep in a tent on the campsite. I had no proper gear, just a paper tin sleeping bag. I phoned Liam, as socially awkward as ever. Surprisingly, he was in a good mood and asked if I needed anything for the night. Well, since you're asking, I could use a blanket.
I can lend you one. No deposit required.
He said. Oh, okay, thanks. I replied, caught off guard by this tone.
However, regarding your rent...
He continued.
I can't give you the spot for free this time. The rush period starts in a few weeks. I'll give you a good price, don't worry.
I smiled politely while internally screaming. I was sleeping outside in near zero temperatures and now I had to pay for the privilege? It made no sense. I had to stay for free when I had a warm van. Liam is a businessman, true and true. And I could tell he had an angle.
Since it's late, take a room tonight so you don't have to pitch the tent. Just make a body tomorrow and key it up from top to bottom before you check out.
He offered. Oh, cheers, that's kind of you. Got it, I say with a stiff thumb up and a forced smile. The vacation was officially over. Work resumed the next day. I reunite with Ash, Ben, Beth, and a few new faces.
Hey, you're back.
Ben shouted, genuinely jovial.
Good to see a thun in your face. You got everything you need for the tent? Ground buck, extra blanket?
I'll take whatever you got. My hair mattress is trashed.
Ah, come to the storage room after work. I'll hook you up.
Perfect, thanks. I got back to it. Nothing had changed. The room was still a pain to clean and the guests were still pigs. I decided to take it philosophically and started collecting the half-full bottles of booze they abandoned in the fridge or under the beds. I bumped into Ash in the kitchenette.
Finally, you're back. Lyam won't stop overloading me. And death still does nothing. That woman is so slow.
How's the campervan project going? I interrupted.
Oh, I gave up. I'm going to rent a house. It will be much better. The camper was too expensive, and while you were gone, my car was stored. It was horrible. I did nothing to deserve that, you know?
Yeah, yeah, I remember. I was still here when you told me.
I've never had luck in my life.
She continued, her monologue gaining speed.
People are mean to me, even though I work harder than anyone. I'm never tanked for what I do.
The house is a great idea, I said, trying to steer the conversation away from the pity party. You'll have your own space, some privacy to relax.
I'm getting my electronic monitor up soon. I'm so happy.
Congratulations No more curfew then?
No, finally some peace. Anyway, don't stand around talking too long. Lion doesn't like slackers. Get back to work. I've already finished four rooms.
I just smile and grab my cart. Good God, she never stops talking. I thought. One detail struck me as I work. The Bibles. In New Zealand, you find them in almost every bedside drawer. Kiwis are quite religious, until recently, Parliament Session opened with a prayer. They still do, though they've since removed the mention of the Queen and Jesus. As a vacuum, the muscle memory returned. I was becoming highly efficient and the new managers noticed. They started giving me more hours, which my bank account appreciated. My world was even happier when the Thai restaurant took me back as a server and dishwasher. The rush had arrived. Customers were cycling through faster than my Tinder days in Taiwan. It was madness. Interestingly, New Zealand's rush hours start early. At 6pm, the place was packed. I had love watching the chef get angry when people showed up to eat at 8.30 on a weekday.
At this hour?
People have no respect. They had grumble in the kitchen. On weekends they were more lenient, often closing at 11pm or midnight for large groups. And the first bit of good news? No more plastic bag. They had switched to paper for takeout. Progress The trash still wasn't being sorted and the food waste was still appalling, but... But I wonder if it was any different in other restaurants. I was settled in for a final two stretch before leaving New Zealand for good. I had been here 13 months already. Time flies, yet it drags when you cut off from the world in Blenheim. But the goal was clear, stack as much cash as possible to keep the journey alive.
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