Burned my fingers
February 20, 2006Tokarau Beach, New Zealand
6:25pm
Ok, so a lot of it was water weight, giving me the false impression of what my new goal weight would be prior to hopping on the plane back to the mighty Canada. I am still comfortably ahead of schedule so my disappointment looking down past my stomach, over the bulbous phallus and down to the flashing weight on the scale was short lived. Needless to say I have already spent too long talking about my weight loss or lack thereof.
Why talk about weight loss when you can discuss our day trip back to the Bay of Islands to visit the quaint little town of Russell, full of cafes and art galleries selling, yes, you guessed it, ceramic kiwi birds and pedantic paintings of New Zealand landscapes? Can you tell I have had my fill of small towns and their false allure? Small towns and playgrounds. I am done. Sorry wee Hud, we will have to find alternate things to do then slide down graffiti speckled tubes or dangerously wobbly monkey bars.
Ok, Russell wasn’t all that bad, we did lunch looking out over the marina and docking of the pedestrian ferry. We took the car ferry located 9 kms outside of the metropolis of Russell.
I had a BLT and Steph and Hud split a burger served topped with a fried egg and a cooked pineapple. No beet root surprisingly enough. After lunch we managed to find a beach, recommended by the information centre, which was nice, but nothing compared to the majestic beach just up the road from our cottage.
Only one more week here in Northland before heading south to Auckland and over to Waiheke Island for 13 days, completing the circle as Waiheke was where we started back in August. Bizarre. 10 months it will be when all is said and done. I am not about to wax poetically about the time spent abroad. I am sure I will find an appropriate crestfallen mood to meander through the ups and downs, the yips and yaps and so on. Right now I just want to write to fill in the gaps between posts. Otherwise I might forget about all the times we spent lounging in the morning, eating lunch and then dashing up to Matai Bay to swim in seawater as clear as a virgin’s conscience.
It gets boring to write about it. It almost, and I say this perfectly knowing what a lucky fucking chump I am, is boring to do. So yes, I admit this beach based boredom knowing the majority of the people I love are shoveling themselves daily out from the grey and icy murk of a Canadian February.
So even if we are biding time to our illustrious return, I can’t think of a better way of doing it. It’s just at this point we want our lives to begin, knowing full well this bohemian life of fantasy is coming to a sudden and drastic conclusion.
I hope I never forget this type of luxury. This type of white-hot fun.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 10:16 AM
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