It's Sunday, 15 December.
A week ago, I packed in Auckland.
Today, I walked for three hours to get out of the Herekino Forest. Eventually, the trail descended a steep, slippery series of giant steps while I clung to roots, waltzed with trees and fought gravity.
It had rained yesterday evening, a heavy, drenching downpour that left me wringing wet and chilled and turned the trail into a quagmire. I walked blindly until it stopped and then made a dripping camp on the ridge.
Somehow during the night I rolled onto the mosquito netting of the hammock. I awoke disoriented and with my sleeping pad glued to my face.
In the pre-dawn darkness, the hammock and I fought a short tussle until I precariously righted myself on hands and knees.
Swaying, rocking and bouncing in my "onesie" above the forest floor, still half-asleep, I collapsed, weeping with laughter.
Hammock - 1. Richard - 0.
As soon as it was light enough to see, I began walking. The rising sun illuminated banks of mist floating silently through the bush.
At a rare lookout, I paused to drink in the view as the rolling cloud banks parted.
On a hunch, I turned on my phone. Amazingly, I had coverage and a little battery life,
I called Rosa far away in Auckland. She sounded sleepy, warm, still tucked up in bed.
Me: "I wish you could see what I'm looking at."
She: "All these people in their little white boxes."
From wet forest I passed onto hot and dusty gravel roads. I held the Power Monkey charger in my hand, angling it to get the most sunlight.
I'm a mobile solar panel.
The gravel road became tarmac, sticky under my shoes. A few cars passed by.
When I came to a bridge over a large stream with an inviting pool, I clambered down the embankment and waited by the pool's edge.
A car rumbled over the bridge. I measured angles.
They won't see you.
I undressed quickly and listened.
The silence of a hot lazy Sunday afternoon in the country hummed.
And my heart drummed in my ears.
It's my rest day, too.
My sunburned skin sizzled as I slipped below the surface.
After I had cooled, I waded out and dressed.
When did you last skinny-dip?
Today.
I feel young.
Like a boy again.
Carefree.