Most people that have ever thought of visiting
New Zealand have heard of the ‘Great Walks.’ If you haven’t heard of them, they
are a series of multi-day hikes around the country, from the deep deep south to
the north. They are very popular among tourists and locals alike. These ‘Great
Walks’ make spending time in the wilderness easy, pleasant and more or less a
breeze. However, they are just that – great big walks. I have never done a
‘Great Walk;’ my family has their own version. These holidays are called
‘Lambie Classics.’
Setting the scene
All ‘Lambie Classics’ are wilderness
experiences, however, not all wilderness experiences with my family are ‘Lambie
Classics.’ You see there are a number of requirements that need to be met in
order for a wilderness experience to qualify for the title of ‘Lambie Classic.’
First and foremost, the trip needs to be organized by Papa Bear. He is the only
member of the family mad enough and capable of organizing a ‘family getaway’ in
quite this capacity. Secondly, there needs to be at least three members of the
immediate family (the original Famous Five). Three members of the family is the
minimum required for the personalities to clash just enough to create
noticeable tension (on a good day). We also need a token ‘outsider’ to help
diffuse said tension and make sure that all the family members are on their
best behavior. Granted, best behaviour is still not very good. In stark
contrast to the ‘Great Walks’ the ‘Lambie Classics’ usually involve little to
no track. What track there is usually consists of man-eating bogs and
woman-eating sink-holes. Of course, it also goes without saying that the
sandflies are an ever-present feature, keeping the underlying irritation levels
at a low simmer. The final, most entertaining and invariable feature of the ‘Lambie
Classic’ is one member of the three in the immediate family completely flipping
their shit, throwing the baby out with the bathwater, and denouncing the rest
of the family.
Papa Bear
Two family members and a token outsider
I got back from a ‘Lambie Classic’
yesterday.
All requirements were well and truly
checked off.
There were man-eating bogs, with Papa Bear
disappearing to mid-thigh. There were woman-eating sink-holes, I discovered
first hand, as the ground fell out from beneath my feet. There were sandflies.
For Africa.
How quaint
And Mama Bear completely flipped her shit
and refused to go any further. She claimed she was never going ‘Lambie Classic’
ever again. I have heard this before, however, the problem with ‘Lambie
Classics’ is that you never know if your wilderness experience is going to be a
‘Classic’ before you go. It’s the risk we all take. I should, though, take
responsibility for my own theatrics on Day 2, when I played my role as the
moody, sulky and sullen teenager particularly well. A little too well, perhaps.
Maybe. Especially considering that I have supposedly outgrown this stage of my
life. Although, recent experience would suggest otherwise…
Moody, sullen and sulky weather to get me in character
There were good parts too though. Like the
stars. Like the glow-worms. Like the sunshine. Like the mountains. Like the 4 am wake up from the pitter patter
of rain straight through the trees onto your face. And the cup of tea and
gingernuts that followed. At 4 am.
Sunshine
4 am cup of tea
It wasn't all bad.
‘Lambie Classics’ make the best stories.
That’s the only reason I go on them.
