Home for now
August 30, 2005Waiheke Island, North Island, New Zealand
6:16pm
Genius of Love by The Tom Tom Club. That is the background music right now, on the deck, sun gone, still light enough to see the sailboat moored in the bay, still light enough to see its hull is pale yellow, its windows black with vacancy.
Day four of New Zealand and we witnessed a landscape that made both Steph and I actually shiver in awe. We stood on an edge of a cliff, overlooking two houses, one of which with sheep boxed in, the other all shiny and proud of its location. They both overlooked a bay of multi-coloured water, behind the water more islands, behind the islands, a peninsula. All so lively and green, so bright and beautiful, so lush and mountainous.
It was like a model of what the earth should actually look like.
We looked at each other and just laughed. Other side of the planet. Looking at this visual treasure. Drunk on eye candy. We stood there staring and a car pulled up. An old man with light blue eyes stuck his wrinkled head and said:
“Quite the view we have here”
Our mouths agape we nodded, our pupils black and full, our grins as big as our love.
“Why don’t you come up the road and see it from my lawn…”
We looked at each other and nodded. “Sure, our boy is asleep in the car so we will follow you”
Steph turned the car around and we went back up the hill we just came down. He was idling at the top, waiting for us. He continued around one more corner and turned into a driveway. A large real estate sign was explaining the details of the property he was obviously selling. 18 acres. 3500 square foot home. $2.5 million. It was a bargain.
His name was John and he and his wife built the place 15 years ago. It had a 180-degree view out the north side of the island, toward the Pacific and back towards Auckland. We could see the Coramandel Peninsula to the east, the place we are staying for September and October. We could see the Skytower we climbed three days ago in downtown Auckland.
I think I saw a penguin squirting down an iceberg at the South Pole the view was so vast.
“You just have a look around, and leave when you’re done,” John said with a quiet smile as we stood on his green, recently mowed grass.
Hud slept on Steph’s shoulders as we walked around his house, pausing to take pictures of the flowers in John’s wife’s garden. The house had been on the market for just over a year. They are trying to sell it to have one last chance to travel the world. John had to be pushing eighty and wanted to be able to enjoy the trip standing up. His wife was nowhere to be found.
When we got back to our car he popped his head back out to say goodbye. His eyes were so soft he looked like a puppet. We thanked him and told him to hold out for his price. He explained there was overseas interest, but the Island has some strict rules about foreign investment. He did not seem overly concerned about it and I wonder if he was really ready to sell.
It must be hard to give up something that beautiful.
Love to all,
J.
August 29, 2005
Waiheke Island, North Island, New Zealand
3:58pm
I am one lucky rotund son of a bitch. Besides being married to one of the most beautiful women on the planet for six years and one day, besides having a smart, sweet Abercrombie and Fitch ad for a son, I am looking out over Oneara Beach on an island, thirty five minutes by ferry from downtown Auckland.
It’s these moments, where I sip local micro brew (Montkeith’s Pilsner Beer, malty, dry finish, good smallish flavour, not too belchy) and watch my wife sip New Zealand Shiraz in the Adirondack chair at our current three day cottage that I wonder what took me so long to escape the beige hell of cubicle farm.
Not that I would have the means to do this before life purge 2005, but at least there is some action in the scenery now. I feel like I am doing something with my life, instead of cowering in the corner, rehearsing my identical-from-yesterday answer in case the tyrannical President came roaring into my box. It may seem placid to some of my friends, the jet setters with magic wallets and lines and bumps for everything, but it so calm here, so pure, and give me the option of gazing at water in every vista I stumble across, it truly does it for me.
So Auckland yesterday was fine. It was our anniversary but with a three-year old hugging your leg begging for chocolate, romance is hard to come by. We both acknowledged this trip was the mutual gift and kissed more often. So there. We drove to a couple of the neighbourhoods we thought may be interesting, and they were, in a Summerhill station kind of way. The cafe’s, the expensive vegetable stores, the women in giant sunglasses budding in line for bakery sandwiches, you know, typical city affairs.
With our three sandwiches (two ham and salad and one panini with ham, camembert and tomato, lightly toasted) our strawberries, our pears, our apples, we made our way to Cornwall Park, the one park Steph chose to see in Auckland on our anniversary. We pulled into a parking lot across from fairgrounds with something going on as parking was a bit crazy. The goateed dude took our five bucks and Steph asked him where the playground was. He chortled and said we were in the wrong area for just the park. The Erotica show was on at the fairground, hence the wet tongued patrons excited to park their boners and get into the show. He gave us back our money and pointed us to the actual park entrance just up the street. My penis woke up for a second, but quickly went back to sleep as the show disappeared in our rear view mirror.
The park was sweet. It was about 18 degrees and sunny so all the families were out kicking soccer balls and bbqing among the just fallen magnolia flowers. The park sat on top of hill so you could look out over the suburbs and gaze at the couple of green dormant volcanoes that dapple the Auckland cityscape. We found a nice spot underneath one of the trees and sat on our jackets and ate our lunch. Hud wondered about, hiding behind a tree and staring at an older girl playing catch with her dad. Go play with her we egged, but he put his hands on his face and sat on my stomach.
There was a working farm within the park so we walked among the cows with the pooey asses and Hud chased the roosters. For the next half an hour he cockadoodledooed thinking he was the funniest three-year old in the park. Hell, he was the funniest. Although there was a four year old doing old Pryor material that was knocking them dead over by the gazebo.
Back at the hotel now, Steph went to read in the bar and I took Hud to the park for some good dad time. We played and then picked up some chips, a lollypop and some water at a Chinatown convienence store. The lady in the store gave Hud a free mint, enamoured by his fair hair and complexion, almost to the point of witch like creepiness, like she needed a blonde lock as the final ingredient to add to her giant ornate dragon caldron, bubbling behind the Ramen noodles in the back room.
Steph still wasn’t back so Hud and I almost fell asleep watching a thriller on television. Some guy had blood on his head so I had to tell Hud that it was just a pretend movie, and no one really bleeds like that from their temple. He believed me. What a sucker.
Steph returned and Hud and I went for a swim, or really a soak in the hot tub. Another Asian woman joined us in the tub and nodded hello, smiling at Hud, internally fearful I am sure of my huge body and my equally massive, recently shaved head. Her body was thin, but rounded at the hips, gaunt around the chest, ass flat as the prairies. I tried to imagine her in the throws of ectascy, but I could not do it, I kept on coming back to Pat Morita as Al in Happy Days. Bah ha ha hah…
We ate dinner at the hotel again. My last time ever I hope. The food sucked and the service sucked and cost more than our last two week grocery bill. I am a total sucker.
This morning we woke up and took care of some administration issues, mostly calling our long term stay for directions and setting up insurance for our car. I am trying to be more forthwith when it comes to dealing with all these crumbs of responsibility. Steph took care of a lot of them in Australia, and I retreated back into my shell. I need to have a bunch of small victories in NZ to bring my confidence level higher and higher. Taking care of business is a good start.
We checked out and drove to the port where we boarded a ferry with our new car. It runs really well. No pings or knocks or funny sounds when on the highway. It is a burly car, heavy, so it feels safe at high speeds. At around 180km/hr it starts to shake a little, but what car doesn’t.
The car ferry from Half Moon Bay to Waiheke takes about 45 minutes. Downtown Auckland looked like a space city, or a city beneath one of the snow globes you purchase in tourist shops. It was just surrounded by plush and looked out of place. Carol and Brian’s place, where we are staying was a short drive from the port on the Island. Both are transplanted North Islanders who vacationed here before retiring. She was quiet and gave us the basic rundown, he was not quiet and talked to us for about twenty minutes about all the things to do on the island. Him and his boys go out every Thursday night for pints and bullshit. Sadly we leave that morning. He is about 65 with a bald head and a big stomach and it would have been a crusty hoot to sit down with a bunch of men the likes of him. Regrets, I have few.
So Hud needs to be woken up and I need another microbrew. It’s beach walking time.
Love to all,
J.
August 28, 2005
Auckland, New Zealand
Dear,
Stephame
Encyclopedia Stephanica
Suzy Panties
Sugar booger
Kinky Slutson.
No one does the 24/7 better than us.
Happy 6th anniversary my love.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 8:18 PM
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