Characters
Joe and Irene, imminent departure of the Devonian and the Canadian, so many a catch-up for hearty walks, brisk drinks and stiff meals. Anj the birthday girl, whose BYO dinner contributed to Emily's shame, along with Larry (and her Norwegians) and seemingly half of Ireland who live in Welly. Newtown parties with Suzy Mojito, Ben's work-blondes and dancing to Blondie (for Em) and the Smiths (for Rob) at Atomic. International Pot Luck at Sayaka's, the writer's hesitance at 'hanging' with a gaggle of teachers was destabilised by an abundance of delicious international scran. Film-making at the 48hour film festival (more teachers!), and seeing it on the big screen in Wellywood.
Dooner's Dream
A very strange dream in the cold room. A sizeable group (including Dray, GLE, Owe and Spudboy) had travelled to NZ for a visit. We ran into them in town, where their jetlag had manifested itself in the form of two black eyes each. Curious. Rundle was also in town with the marines, and along with Sven we all went to a gig. It was spectacular, particularly since the audience sat on a large revolving roundabout and the band played on a circular stage all around the audience. What could this all mean?
Things otherwise, a bit of work (woah!), and watching of the Lions once a week....what a second test! Organising the next and subseqent rounds of galavanting. House parties in Wellington usually involve costumes or stupid themes. Fortunately they have taken a back seat of late in favour of drinks and conversation type events. Including White Russians, and brunette Kiwis.
Bones, thugs and harmonies - 23/6/09
Been a bit of a while what what, so a potential flurry, of tale if not excitement.
Firstly, the wrist.....is out of cast. This is good, although doesn't mean it is healed, more that I can be trusted. Answers on the reality of a complete heal will be in a postcard next week, following CT scan. Instead - a splint, and a ridiculously weak wrist after 12 weeks stationary. And the skin was delightful. Like old parmesan. All clean now mind.
Some of the spare time has been employed in writing, recording and producing some drinking songs, of which bootlegs are circulating (and reportedly being danced and cried to). Further time has been spent at wild parties with young people and loud music, watching rugby (les bleus, the ABs and the Lions), and being generally amused by Emily's anti-social pub culture. Emily had a drinking problem the other week, when she was asked to leave a Wellington Irish bar for pouring Emer a glass of her own wine brought in after a BYO meal. Disgraceful behaviour, and I naturally sided with the bouncer who was quite polite (and built like a brick shithouse, as is usual for local doormen). Oh the shame of it (she repeated).
Firstly, the wrist.....is out of cast. This is good, although doesn't mean it is healed, more that I can be trusted. Answers on the reality of a complete heal will be in a postcard next week, following CT scan. Instead - a splint, and a ridiculously weak wrist after 12 weeks stationary. And the skin was delightful. Like old parmesan. All clean now mind.
Some of the spare time has been employed in writing, recording and producing some drinking songs, of which bootlegs are circulating (and reportedly being danced and cried to). Further time has been spent at wild parties with young people and loud music, watching rugby (les bleus, the ABs and the Lions), and being generally amused by Emily's anti-social pub culture. Emily had a drinking problem the other week, when she was asked to leave a Wellington Irish bar for pouring Emer a glass of her own wine brought in after a BYO meal. Disgraceful behaviour, and I naturally sided with the bouncer who was quite polite (and built like a brick shithouse, as is usual for local doormen). Oh the shame of it (she repeated).
On the lookout for calcium, zinc and phosphorous - 21/5/09
All ready for cast removal? Check.
Physio appointment made? Check.
Bike chain oiled? Check.
Training regime? Check.
Plans laid for snow fun? Check.
Job? Come back to that one.
Scaphoid? That one too.
After 8 weeks of wrist in cast, and a lack of left handed motor skills (can't touch thumb to any of the fingers), the excitement of removing the deteriorating forearm from it's fibreglass containment was running high. The process revealed a withered, scabby limb with some tenderness (of the bones, not the saw). The x-rays revealed insufficient healing, and the doctor revealed the need for a further 4weeks in cast. To add torment to injury, he also revealed there would be no rugby or snowboarding this season, and no mountain biking or guitar for the immediate future. Almost choked.
Perfect conditions to be knuckling down to some hard work to keep the brain from going stale. However....
Economic downturns have spread to my back sky-rocket, via the ailing job market. Having taken a soaking, a wind beating, and avoided an earthquake on the way to an interview perhaps it is time the stroke of luck arrived. Still, luck comes in the form of the Design IT teacher, for whom one bakes cakes and pasta bakes. The one that arrives home with VIZ and Dylan Moran on DVD to cheer up the one-armed bandito. And the one that involves him in a 48hour film competition to exercise musical creativity.
So...more time will be spent in the library, and checking the recruiters are awake, cooking and cleaning (slowly), piano playing (one hand and index finger) and walking/running where possible.
The wind of late has been special (as previously warned) - the small girls hanging on to lampposts variety, the running down steep hills and being held back (at Makara beach) variety, and the light jog consuming the energy of a sprint in the headwind variety. Jog on.
Physio appointment made? Check.
Bike chain oiled? Check.
Training regime? Check.
Plans laid for snow fun? Check.
Job? Come back to that one.
Scaphoid? That one too.
After 8 weeks of wrist in cast, and a lack of left handed motor skills (can't touch thumb to any of the fingers), the excitement of removing the deteriorating forearm from it's fibreglass containment was running high. The process revealed a withered, scabby limb with some tenderness (of the bones, not the saw). The x-rays revealed insufficient healing, and the doctor revealed the need for a further 4weeks in cast. To add torment to injury, he also revealed there would be no rugby or snowboarding this season, and no mountain biking or guitar for the immediate future. Almost choked.
Perfect conditions to be knuckling down to some hard work to keep the brain from going stale. However....
Economic downturns have spread to my back sky-rocket, via the ailing job market. Having taken a soaking, a wind beating, and avoided an earthquake on the way to an interview perhaps it is time the stroke of luck arrived. Still, luck comes in the form of the Design IT teacher, for whom one bakes cakes and pasta bakes. The one that arrives home with VIZ and Dylan Moran on DVD to cheer up the one-armed bandito. And the one that involves him in a 48hour film competition to exercise musical creativity.
So...more time will be spent in the library, and checking the recruiters are awake, cooking and cleaning (slowly), piano playing (one hand and index finger) and walking/running where possible.
The wind of late has been special (as previously warned) - the small girls hanging on to lampposts variety, the running down steep hills and being held back (at Makara beach) variety, and the light jog consuming the energy of a sprint in the headwind variety. Jog on.
Hark at 'ee - information by the medium of tale - 30/4/09
The Owl and the Pussycat
At Shambaala, Golden Bay we happened upon a French mademoiselle named Anne. Emily and Anne struck a friendship that saw them take to the seas, in a beautiful complimentary dinghy. They ventured into the breaking waves barely equipped with rowing knowledge, let alone honey. In waves of up to two feet they tamed the ocean in a manner reminiscent of King Canute, and provided ample opportunity for the broken wristed dry footed paparazzi prowling on the shore (see picture proof). The bounties of seafaring adventure were minimal (garlic mussels though), but the quiz team name of “the owl and the pussycat” was born, and demonstrated a more general intellect with a victory at the Mussel Inn pub quiz that evening (with assistance from our dutch and kiwi comrades).
Hitching Success
Golden Bay felt beautifully isolated (even for New Zealand), having ascended and descended a huge pass to get in. Hence it took a couple days (and some hefty mussel consumption) to muster the motivation for the return leg. After loading up it began quickly with a bareknuckle drive down the unsealed 2km to the main road (meditation teacher at the wheel), then a short ride with a local dairy farmer, before re-living childhood in the back of a car with the greater hits of Dire Straits (surely a proud indulgence or two YFOS fans?). The next step saw a lift from a Hertfordshire Hiker, over the Takaka Hill Highway and down to Motueka. Young family Rob, Roberta and Liam then took us to the outskirts of Nelson, where a good chap surprised his family by dropping us out in central Nelson as they awaited his lift.
The next stage of the journey (to Picton) was assisted hugely by climber Stacey on her way to Blenheim, leaving only a short ride from an older couple - in fine comfort, other than the perfume intensity and lipstick on the teeth. The chat was reasonable, although a strong south island bias!
The beauty of having a nice black fibre glass cast, is that using a stone (or better still chalk/ tippex) one can write destinations on the cast for thumbing a lift.....e.g. "anywhere but Picton....".
Road Music
Thanks to Ben, Pete & Nikki for the lends: Blur - Best Of (so not as many fillers as their others), Beatles - Love, Modest Mouse, DJ Shadow (night time driving), Dire Straits (day time driving without irony), Flaming Lips, Blondie (queue singstar Emily), Mint Chicks, Black Seeds (attempts to get into some NZ craft), Bright Eyes, Radiohead, Talking Heads, Supergrass (difficult third album), the Strokes, the Smiths (will one ever bore?), Roots Manuva (Sinny sin sins at christian camp - no i didn't!), Jurassic 5, Jeff Buckley, Hot Chip.
At Shambaala, Golden Bay we happened upon a French mademoiselle named Anne. Emily and Anne struck a friendship that saw them take to the seas, in a beautiful complimentary dinghy. They ventured into the breaking waves barely equipped with rowing knowledge, let alone honey. In waves of up to two feet they tamed the ocean in a manner reminiscent of King Canute, and provided ample opportunity for the broken wristed dry footed paparazzi prowling on the shore (see picture proof). The bounties of seafaring adventure were minimal (garlic mussels though), but the quiz team name of “the owl and the pussycat” was born, and demonstrated a more general intellect with a victory at the Mussel Inn pub quiz that evening (with assistance from our dutch and kiwi comrades).
Hitching Success
Golden Bay felt beautifully isolated (even for New Zealand), having ascended and descended a huge pass to get in. Hence it took a couple days (and some hefty mussel consumption) to muster the motivation for the return leg. After loading up it began quickly with a bareknuckle drive down the unsealed 2km to the main road (meditation teacher at the wheel), then a short ride with a local dairy farmer, before re-living childhood in the back of a car with the greater hits of Dire Straits (surely a proud indulgence or two YFOS fans?). The next step saw a lift from a Hertfordshire Hiker, over the Takaka Hill Highway and down to Motueka. Young family Rob, Roberta and Liam then took us to the outskirts of Nelson, where a good chap surprised his family by dropping us out in central Nelson as they awaited his lift.
The next stage of the journey (to Picton) was assisted hugely by climber Stacey on her way to Blenheim, leaving only a short ride from an older couple - in fine comfort, other than the perfume intensity and lipstick on the teeth. The chat was reasonable, although a strong south island bias!
The beauty of having a nice black fibre glass cast, is that using a stone (or better still chalk/ tippex) one can write destinations on the cast for thumbing a lift.....e.g. "anywhere but Picton....".
Road Music
Thanks to Ben, Pete & Nikki for the lends: Blur - Best Of (so not as many fillers as their others), Beatles - Love, Modest Mouse, DJ Shadow (night time driving), Dire Straits (day time driving without irony), Flaming Lips, Blondie (queue singstar Emily), Mint Chicks, Black Seeds (attempts to get into some NZ craft), Bright Eyes, Radiohead, Talking Heads, Supergrass (difficult third album), the Strokes, the Smiths (will one ever bore?), Roots Manuva (Sinny sin sins at christian camp - no i didn't!), Jurassic 5, Jeff Buckley, Hot Chip.
Galavanting North Island Week 2 - 26/4/09
Roads less travelled, tracks heavily walked.
Whanganui River Road - partly unsealed, sand-stone walls, bush, sheep and corners aplenty.
Route 52 - A long 3hours. Sheep stations, angular hills and the occasional metropolis (ahem).
Silica Rapids - sweet two hour walk near Whakapapa.
Tongariro Alpine Crossing - Early (5.30am), frosty start for 23km walk in smouldering and bleak volcano territory. Spectacular and intimidating, but if Frodo can, then so can we (film location of the fiery abyss of Mount Doom). Wrist wearing well, though no particular stumbles.
Te Mata Peak - Fair rugged, and sheep orientated. Notable for a good clamber, big view and a scared Em as she drove up a single lane rode with significant near vertical drops either side. One handed driver took the wheel going back down.
Hot stream dip at Taupo - back to the Waikato River (to sit like a gnome).
Camping it up
Em never has had much luck with camping. After two rain drenched UK trips, so far this week saw rain, gales and frost (Waikanae, Whanganui River Road and Whakapapa respectively). Still, no trees came through the tent, and we didn't freeze in the -2C mountain temperatures (vege thai curry not a mild one thankfully). And thanks to installing Em in a sleeing bag with only her nose showing, I even think she'll go again. Those in the know will be shocked to hear of her donning hiking boots, anorak and rucksack for a 23km walk and 900m ascent (see above and photos for the 09 look). Doon slept with jumper over face. After three days in the tent, the treat of some meat, bed and ale was well received (does any drinking city outside Ireland not have an Irish bar?).
Digs, Drinks & Scran
Wet camp, Christian camp, Windy camp, Frosty camp. Farmstay. Familiar Taupo retreat.
Speights, post-camp ales, chilly-bin water, Rose wine off of Hawke's Bay. Many a vege thai curry, and later in the week some more substantial lamb bangers n mash.
Good Good Friday
Not regularly subscribing to established traditions, this Good Friday involved copious red meat. Official house outing, with entourage – intention of a good walk around the Otari Wilton bush was dashed when the public barbecue was ignited, and the steaks and Speights were gregory'd.
Whanganui River Road - partly unsealed, sand-stone walls, bush, sheep and corners aplenty.
Route 52 - A long 3hours. Sheep stations, angular hills and the occasional metropolis (ahem).
Silica Rapids - sweet two hour walk near Whakapapa.
Tongariro Alpine Crossing - Early (5.30am), frosty start for 23km walk in smouldering and bleak volcano territory. Spectacular and intimidating, but if Frodo can, then so can we (film location of the fiery abyss of Mount Doom). Wrist wearing well, though no particular stumbles.
Te Mata Peak - Fair rugged, and sheep orientated. Notable for a good clamber, big view and a scared Em as she drove up a single lane rode with significant near vertical drops either side. One handed driver took the wheel going back down.
Hot stream dip at Taupo - back to the Waikato River (to sit like a gnome).
Camping it up
Em never has had much luck with camping. After two rain drenched UK trips, so far this week saw rain, gales and frost (Waikanae, Whanganui River Road and Whakapapa respectively). Still, no trees came through the tent, and we didn't freeze in the -2C mountain temperatures (vege thai curry not a mild one thankfully). And thanks to installing Em in a sleeing bag with only her nose showing, I even think she'll go again. Those in the know will be shocked to hear of her donning hiking boots, anorak and rucksack for a 23km walk and 900m ascent (see above and photos for the 09 look). Doon slept with jumper over face. After three days in the tent, the treat of some meat, bed and ale was well received (does any drinking city outside Ireland not have an Irish bar?).
Digs, Drinks & Scran
Wet camp, Christian camp, Windy camp, Frosty camp. Farmstay. Familiar Taupo retreat.
Speights, post-camp ales, chilly-bin water, Rose wine off of Hawke's Bay. Many a vege thai curry, and later in the week some more substantial lamb bangers n mash.
Good Good Friday
Not regularly subscribing to established traditions, this Good Friday involved copious red meat. Official house outing, with entourage – intention of a good walk around the Otari Wilton bush was dashed when the public barbecue was ignited, and the steaks and Speights were gregory'd.
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