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Sunday, 22 February 2004 |
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Wet.
What a week.
A week of Thelma and Garrett adventures down South. Rocking up to the backpackers in Turangi I feared for poor old G-rats life as the owner slowly and solemnly removed her glasses and said I've got some bad news...turns out the codger was only stuck up to his eyeballs in floodwaters further South. I give the woman credit for drama. NO doubt she has a smoke machine for truly tragic occasions.
A slightly Feilding traumatised boyo turned up the next day rearing to go up a mountain that's he's tried to climb before but still can't see for the fog, rain, and horizontal blustering winds.
A brief pow-wow later, (complete with hallucinatory chilli and monteiths) we decided to flag being whisked off a scree volcano or two and head east.
After a brief and highly unstimulating tikitour of the metropolis centres of Taupo and Rotorua we made it to Opotiki, which heralded much beach galloping, wondrous driftwood hut making, and squealing with glee (all far enough from disapproving ears, of course.)
Great how much I love being a kid, thrashing about in the waves and building sandcastles destined to be torn apart in a second by tsunamis that the little seashell peasants have been talking about in hushed tones for years.
Taking boyo to the airport today and being with all the good lot this evening has made me think a lot about what I'm undertaking soon. For those uninitiated, I leave for Sweden in mid June, to live and study for a year. It's an exciting but still frightening prospect, and something that I hope will clear up a lot of things within myself that need work big time.
Love those you're with and those you'll be without, I suppose. |
