26 December 2011

New Zealand Chronicles | Perceiving The Journey

3 December 2011

I slept until I woke up. And with no obvious signs of Angie being awake, I slept some more. Full disclosure: there was no way for me to see any sign of Angie being awake. I lay on my pallet in my room with the door closed, and she did the same. It was glorious, aside from a slight discomfort above my left eye. As with any malady, I believe in poking first, finding out that was a mistake later. There was no pain or itch, just some puff. My eyelid was puffy. It was barely noticeable. I showed Ang, who'd had her own eye thing just a week prior. We (with dual degrees in communications) deemed it harmless, and headed to the markets!

Ultimately, we were heading to a beach, so we dressed and packed accordingly. We set out with Angie (of course) behind the wheel, and we headed to Matakana. Along the way, we stopped at every lookout Angie deemed worthy. I suppose now's as good a time as any to tell you Angie and I are not very similar. Where I would get directions and get from Point A to Point B as efficiently as possible, Angie would head in the direction of Point B, and veer off the road at the first sign of a scenic overlook. In the event she was hesitant at the first overlook, she would definitely stop at the second. She has what she & The Squash Player aptly call FOMO: F(ear) O(f) M(issing) O(ut). FOMO is what has led Angie to the secret discoveries she now delights in sharing with people like me, who are typically boring and just follow the rules. Ang is one of those "the journey is the reward," people. I'm more of a "we won't rest until we get there and rest," sort. Her reward is in the sharing. Mine is in the surviving the unbeaten path. Somehow, we work. 

A very large tree.
I got nothing.
Polenta with peaches, plums, honey and cream.
When Kiwis say "markets," they mean Farmers' Markets. The Matakana Markets are a thing. I thoroughly enjoyed it. There was a great variety of foods. We arrived toward the end, and we hadn't eaten. So we kind of inhaled food first and thought about it later. First, a soy latte. Then a lovely ricotta and something calzone. I had my wits about me when it was time for the polenta. Best I remember having, and I have a good memory. I waffled on getting a crepe, and by the time I decided to go big, it was time for the crepiere to go home. It was time for us to get our Saturday started as well. To the beach!

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