ou sort of step into another world when you walk through the Wooden Gate. A much welcomed escape from the intensely hot, humid streets that never cease to stop hurrying in the city of Colombo, Sri Lanka. A thick and intricate canopy of trees, climbers and hanging ferns weave a jungle that surrounds the house and provides protection from the ever-glowing sun. You tread softly on the cool cobblestones beneath your feet, and your head ducks in between hanging vines and branches. In the middle, strong but humble, sits a rustic two story home; very artistic, complemented with hues of blue and orange.

Our last evening in Wanaka passed like any other, although the closet was empty, our bags were packed and our room felt very empty and sterile. And in the morning, it was that strange feeling of walking out of a room you’d spent so much time in, knowing it would continue to be, but without your energy, giving thanks for what it has given you and knowing your time there had come to an end. And it was time. I was ready.