Making Plans

Britomart and the ferry terminal building, just a few minutes' walk from my current Airbnb

I have been asked by a number of people what I’m doing in New Zealand: what is my

purpose? What are my goals? What have I done there, and what am I going to do?

They are all valid questions. I often repeat them to myself, seeking the same answers.

At this point, I have the broad brushstrokes figured out.

I want to explore the country. I am hoping to backpack along nearly a dozen Great

Walks of New Zealand, explore beautiful trails and scenery, experience the wildlife, and

make meaningful connections. There are caves, rafting, and other expeditions I’d like to

do. I want to return home full of great stories and memories, matured and more capable

than I was when I arrived.

Many of the most important things I want to do, however, must be planned in advance. I

know the huts along the more popular trails fill up quickly, for example. Many are not

available until spring anyway, so I must wait for the right season. These trails are often

in remote parts of the country too, requiring a mix of planes, trains, rental cars, and

ferries, so I need to make sure I can get there – along with all my luggage – while also

leaving room on the weekdays to continue my job working remotely as a developer.

Nevertheless, it comes as a shock to me, as I sketch out my plans, to discover that I’ve

already spent two months here without having even left the city of Auckland.

One Tree Hill, a beautiful park in Auckland

How did this happen? Does this mean I have wasted my time here so far?

Upon reflection, much of my time has been devoted to simply developing a routine.

Because I am really trying to inhabit a space and not just tour it, I am taking the time to

familiarize myself with what it’s like to live here. I will visit a bar and talk to a stranger or

walk 13 miles around various neighborhoods. On my urban excursions, I’ll note how

suburban Auckland is in comparison to European cities; how it doesn’t really drizzle

here, but rain heavily before the rainclouds are swept away by strong winds; how I hear

so many languages (Japanese, Chinese, French, Polish, Korean, Vietnamese, and

many more I don’t immediately recognize) when I shop at my local grocery store. I’ve

seen a comedy show and observed protests in support of Palestine.

Although my activities are limited to one place, I am absorbing the city and the culture,

acquiring an understanding of the place I am inhabiting, all while making preparations to

explore in earnest once the season is right and my plans are in place.

One of the Pro Palestine rallies I have come across

In many ways, the same questions that are posed to me about my travel can also be

applied to my writing: What will the next book be about? How far along am I? And so on.

Interestingly, when I pose similar questions to myself regarding my next novel (What will

the next book be about? How far along am I?), my answers mirror that of my travel

here. It has made me realize that, whether I am charting a book or planning a trip, my

methods are quite the same.

First, I start with the idea. This involves the basics: Who, what, where, and when. I

cannot begin a book or a trip without a setting in mind. I imagine vague scenes in my

head, what it might feel like or look like. What kind of mood am I envisioning?

Once I have that decided, I start to pick out my top priorities: What are the things that

absolutely must occur to make this a success? Lists are made, and then a timeline is

developed.

Then, logistics are implemented: How will I get from one major place to another? How

can I make this transfer as smooth as possible and make sense?

One side of Waharoa, a Maori sculpture representing a gateway. Located in Aotea Square.

Once the general scheme is decided, that’s when research begins: What would each of

these stops along the journey look like? What are the details of the activities taking

place? What do I need to know?

At this point, it is important to leave room for discovery. What if I find another hike that I

want to do? Or decide to take a big leap and bungee jump? Or a local gives me a good

recommendation? So, I allow myself the space to make such pivots or additions.

With a clear enough idea of my goals and how I’ll accomplish them, I can begin my

journey. The rest, I can figure out along the way and leave it open to discovery. I can

figure out meals and certain specific timings when I get there, just as I can determine

the specifics of a scene once I get around to writing it. Sometimes, I will need to take

extra time to figure a few things out, but that is how it goes. You must expect plans to

not be perfect.

This is certainly not the only way to travel, just as it is not the only way to write a book. It

is simply my own process. Plans give me the confidence and comfort to move forward,

to enjoy the path without worrying about getting lost or missing something important. It

helps me pack as much as possible into as little space as possible, while leaving

enough room for the details, the moments that bring joy and wonder. And by doing this,

I expect that it will not leave me floundering at the end of the world, wondering how I am

ever going to work my way back.

A view of downtown from one of the many harbors that Auckland has. I've been based behind the ANZ building you see here on the right-hand side.

(Similar to my answer on my travels, the answer about my book is about the same. I

have charted out my goals, and I have settled in to learn the characters and scenes, but

much of the action is yet to be written.)