We’re finally on the west coast, people. And its pretty here. We’ve been out of reception zone the past 2 days so if we’ve been MIA, there’s no need to call the consulate, yet.
Being out of reception zone. Wow, what does that mean? This whole zone has no reception. Vodaphone or otherwise. Blows my mind. I don’t even mind not having wifi or data; but to not have cell phone reception; seems rather crazy.
We stayed in a tavern last night — because seriously, how many people can say they’ve stayed in a tavern, with a fireplace and a barmaid et al. Denn had a couple of beers and a good steak. was half expecting some dancing, (real kick up your heels kinda tavern dancing, you dirty minded people), but no. This is new zealand.
So we went to bed at 9, after we did laundry (because i’ve run out of clean socks and underpants), and I’m awake at 7. Denn’s still asleep, mumbling abt rapids.
Yesterday we did a 3 hour (which ended up being 4 hours) stint of caving, riding in a self-built train, and riding a rubber tube down rapids. I know. Completely out of my element but we only live once. My forever boyf took pity and carried my tube 80 percent of the way.
Don’t tell my father. I got bounced off my tube twice and got thrown against some rocks. Then I fell in the river, bruised my knees and ended up chest first in the water. Didn’t hit my head so I am fine. Denn laments that my sense of coordination and balance is really disturbing.
From my stoop outside the tavern room, I am listening to birdsong and sniffing at bacon fry-up. Watching the tavern owner split some logs for the fireplace. I want to give it a go, but again, my lack of coodination doesn’t bode well with a sharp axe in hand.
I love this life on the road. Bumps and bruises and all. Everyone here takes an interest, they say hi and good morning to strangers. They offer us wine from freshly opened bottles because its two of them and they can’t finish. Everyone laughs at our puffa-jackets but sympathises because we look so very cold.
Right now, all I want is a stack of pancakes, to read all the whatsapp messages I have missed, a good strong cup of hot tea.
I miss Mariann greatly, the last NZ trip was wonderful, everytime we see cows and sheep we half expect her to be going nuts in the backseat. Most rooms have a double bed and a single bed, and we now still refer to the single bed as “mariann’s bed” although she’s not here. We hope she’s studying hard. Hi Sherm! Thanks for being a good influence!