"I wish none of this had happened." ~Frodo

Hello all of you friendly faces!

I find myself today in immensely better spirits than the past few days. I'm enjoying Queenstown, so that's nice, but today, though I am completely exhausted, was nothing short of spectacular. I am not exaggerating here, folks.

Why do you ask was today so spectacular? Well I'll tell you.

People who have talked to me for longer than a few minutes know that in order to tell a story, I must first tell a back story. And so, my dear readers, here is the backstory. I hope you're on the edge of your seat, because we on the cusp of something incredible.

Legend of Lake Wakatipu. Maybe you can read it if you make the picture big. I don't have time to type it all up for you, sorrrrrrrry <3

Yesterday, I found myself in my hostel, in a kitchen swarmed with hungry people. I sat down with a book in the hopes that it would quiet down in a bit, but to my dismay, it did not. I left, went down to the waterfront, and ate other things.

But. And here's the important bit. Pay attention to this part. I'll highlight it. It's important.

While scanning Lonely Planet New Zealand, and Rough Guides New Zealand on the sections of places I've been, I spied upon a map the following beautiful words, accompanied by a triangle. (That means it's a mountain. Keep up.) Now HERE is the important part. Those words were:

“Mount Christina”

WHAT?! I did a double take. I read it again. I read it three times. I examined each character to ensure that I was reading it properly. I was.

“Mount Christina”

FINALLY I found something geographical that shares my name!!! I was exuberant. Ecstatic. Elated. I can't explain it. I've driven around a great part of this country. The last road trip, which spanned a large part of the South Island, raked in the numbers at just shy of 3,000 kilometers.

I have taken numerous photos of places and street names that share names with friends and family back home. Ask me when I get home. I bet your name is somewhere.

But mine? Haven't seen it yet. Let's see it again.

“Mount Christina”

Bliss.

Ben Lomond, 1750 meters approx.

And so, that is the backstory. Today is spectacular because I got to see Mount Christina! Not climb it. At 2,502 meters tall, it's certainly a respectable height.

And as far as location goes, it's quite a ways from where I am now. Furthermore, it's snowy on top of Mount Christina.

“Mount Christina”

Sorry. I'm just bathing in the beauty of this mountain that shares my name. Though technically, I'd imagine that I share its name, as I am only 21 years old, and I'm certain it's well into its years. As a mountain, I'm certain that it's quite a bit older than me. Wiser too. It looks pretty wise. What do you think?

Today, I climbed Ben Lomond. At 1,748 meters tall, and 11 kilometers and 1,400 meters ascent, it's a relatively high peak in the area. Guidebooks will tell you that the hike is 6-8 hours long, and the signs will tell you 8. We took 7 hours flat, including time for us to pick up some food at a dairy, eat the food and take photos at the top, and for me to walk back to my hostel.

I hiked with a Danish guy Esha and I met while traveling on the West Coast. Though I invited companions (him and his friends), I was concerned that I would have to move at their pace. This was a legitimate concern. He kept up a severely steady pace. In a way it was good though, as I likely would have meandered up the trail at a snail's pace. I tried my best to keep up with him, but still had to stop, every few minutes, especially as the trail got steeper.

He was incredibly sweet about it though. We kept up a steady chatter through eight or ninety percent of the hike, and I ended up being glad that I had a companion—other than the obvious safety in numbers. Danish men are so sweet. He's going bungy jumping tomorrow. He's pretty nervous, but determined to conquer his fear. I on the other hand, would just have to conquer my piggy bank.

It was a stupendous view at the top. A complete 360—this is why I now love climbing mountains, despite the sometimes pain going up and the blisters (two right now, but they've been teasing me since I walked the 17 kilometers to avoid having to pay for wireless) that sometimes appear when you're done.

I've posted photos of the Remarkables already, but I found them increasingly less remarkable as we reached higher altitudes. The mountains on the other side, once we reached Ben Lomond “saddle” were breathtaking. Snow covered, spanning all the way across our viewpoints, we each took many panoramas. I'm certain his camera is better than mine. Who's isn't?

At the peak, there was a strange device that let you look at mountains in particular. It aligned a little box up with labels, and then you looked through it to see the mountain.

There, I found Mount Christina.

And let me tell you. It is the most beautiful mountain I have ever seen. I stand by that. Lush, with sun gleaming off the snow covered peaks, it pointed up towards the sky like a perky little arrow. A few clouds hovered above it... it was so attractive that they couldn't keep away.

Understandably so. It's lovely and white and tall and proud. As it should be.

Today, folks, I am entirely at peace with where I am right now. Had I never been in Queenstown, I never would have wanted to avoid the hoards of people that frequent this tourist trap that resembles nothing else of New Zealand, and I never would have discovered that New Zealand houses my first geographical namesake.

And, had I never been desperately trying to avoid their jaw-dropping and heart-wrenching prices of activities, I never would have climbed to the free Ben Lomond summit, where I have now seen Mount Christina.

Thank you, Queenstown.
And goodbye.