This photo is from the time
I went back to New Zealand
after ten years,
while I was living
in Australia.
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I had heard that the owner of the backpackers’
hostel, who had taken such good care of me,
had passed away.
If I remember correctly, I rented a car
in Christchurch and was on my way
to Queenstown.
Even after ten years,
the scenery hadn’t changed at all.
I felt happy and nostalgic at the same time,
and so many memories came rushing back
all at once.
And somehow, that feeling was so comforting.
In the photo, there is a café
at the top of a mountain called Mt. Jones.
The view was breathtaking
— a full 360 degrees of scenery
that made you sigh without even realizing it.
Over there,
even an ordinary view felt like
something out of a movie.
I remember thinking quietly to myself,
“So this is where I was.”
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Three months later,
once I had somehow gotten used
to working at the café,
I set off on a trip around
the South Island.
With my backpack
on my shoulders,
I took local buses
from place to place.
I worked packing apples
at an apple orchard,
and I was also given
the precious opportunity
to work at a café
deep in the mountains,
run by a German couple.
About six months into
my working holiday,
I came across a town
called Dunedin —
and I fell in love with it
at first sight.
While working as a cleaner
at a backpackers’ hostel,
I was also lucky enough
to work day and night
at a Japanese restaurant
there.
There were all kinds
of little dramas
along the way,
but by the time
I was 24,
I began to feel
the limits
of my English ability
overseas.
I felt that I needed
a stronger skill —
something solid
I could rely on.
So I decided
to go back to Japan once.
But deep down,
I still wanted
to work properly
in an English-speaking
country.
I wanted
to get permanent residency.
With that thought
in mind,
I had already decided
that my next destination
would be Australia.
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