06 February 2012

New Zealand Chronicles | Paradise Found

8 December 2011

We drove for fourteen days without incident. I kid. That's a reference to my inexcusable delay (for which I could offer many excuses). We drove not too much longer and arrived in Mangonui, which is part of Doubtless Bay. I mean naturally we had to get away from the hustle and bustle of the land of the two lane highway for something much more rural, such as a town that (as far as I can tell) only consists of one street. We stopped at the only a grocery store and stocked up for the next two days. In typical Angie / Danie fashion, we bought a rotisserie chicken, chips and wine. I'm sure I bought water too; I sort of convinced myself I was allergic to the tap water. With those supplies in tow, we headed up the road to our accommodations, which we passed twice to spot and a third time just to get in the right position to park. Have I discussed Angie and the parking situation? The parallel strategy is not existent, and the mere mention of backing in to a spot is enough to send her into foul mouthed mutterings. I digress. 


She told me to look normal and just walk.
But when I see a camera, I smile.
We arrived in paradise. The Kiwis call it a bach. I would call it a vacation rental. It's a fully furnished house that exists as part of a similar group of houses. The property has it's own beach. Seriously. For two giggling girls from the 'Burg, it was beyond. The place was beyond. The view was beyond. The fact that the owner left a note for us under a rock while she and her husband were out for a swim was beyond. It was definitely a "I'm so happy this is my life." moment. Those ought to be documented.

The organization of it all!
Stocking the fridge.
View from the back.
Another view from the back.
View of the back.

Aren't we glad I got that standing thing down?

No one to the left...
No one to the right either...

I was fully engaged in a conversation with the remnants of mollusks.
I love this picture.
My friend has an eye, no?

The shells I felt agreed to come with me.
Once we had "enough" photos, we unpacked and went down to the beach. We sat there with beer and wine and space and time. Angie did her "let's start talking about what we're doing tomorrow" thing and I mostly let it happen. I recognized I did not need really be listening anyway. The plan was just to to another beach, because that was obviously, absolutely necessary. I read while she scampered up and down getting shots of every thing from every angle. Once we felt as though we had absorbed all our mortal souls could take, we ate dinner. Now If any of the above made you think we were adults, our dinner will show you otherwise.

So. We have wine, champagne, chips, chicken bones,
random pieces of bread and mozzarella.

I sit, I read, I drink wine.
Angie runs around taking pictures and being artsy.
We're perfect.
There's not much else in life aside from being well fed and in a beautiful place. Our day (starting with my awesome breakfast) had gone really well. The bach was "beyond amazing," (to be read with Angie's big eye roll and sweeping hand gesture). That night she had hope for her troubles and accepted there was no sense in worrying. Plus, she was exhausted. She watched X Factor and went to bed. I stole her pictures and did the same.

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