07 February 2012

New Zealand Chronicles | Transitioning

12 December 2011

I observed my very last full day in New Zealand by taking the bus. Long live public transport! Ang bought me  a ticket for a ferry ride and tour of Waiheke. We had been sitting on it for my entire trip, waiting for the weather to improve. That did not happen. So, on a dreary Monday, I hopped on the Link, and went. 

The bus was weird. There was no automatic counting machine. I just put the money on a tray and the operator counted it by sight, or maybe it was measured by weight. The operator also gave change, from a tray full of money that was essentially unguarded. The whole thing was unsettling.

The ferry ride was nice not spectacular. It was raining. Everything was bleak. It was kind of a downer way to start the end of my trip. The bus tour helped; the driver was hilarious. Still, I found I wasn't motivated to get off the bus and walk through the town. Don't get me wrong, the views were still beautiful, and it was cool to be on an island where everyone owns a boat and the houses and worth millions. I know I would have enjoyed it more if Angie had been there. Her silly excitement (even for things she's already experienced) is contagious. But she had to work. Also, she and The Squash Player had their own Waiheke trip planned. No comment.

Love these guys!

My chariot.

It was pretty delicious. But how can to go wrong with meat
surrounded by a flaky crust?
I did not have any great mysteries revealed to me whilst on the island. I appreciated it for what it was, then I ate a pie. Angie told me I had to have a pie before I left. I was hungry. There were pies in the ferry terminal. It seemed perfect. Angie said she thought she had her first pie in that same terminal. We're so kindred. 

The ferry ride was kind of the end of my vacation. I started thinking of souvenirs I still had to get, postcards I still had to buy, pictures I still had to get from Angie and the stuff I still needed to pack. I started making lists. The flip had just about been switched. I did more shopping down near Queen Street at Global Culture. More money spent on me, but I got a few things for others. So I was getting better. It was the start of a spree. I got nearly all my shopping done that afternoon. I want to say I even started organizing my luggage, but that can't be right. 

Our grand finale dinner was at Prego. It. Was. Divine. First, we split a loaf of bread. Not just any bread. It was Pane di Grano Duro. Yes, that's excessive, as in entirely not necessary. But it was as good as Ang told me it would be. Granted I didn't think it would be an actual loaf, though after that latte in a bowl thing I really should have learned. I had the fish of the day, which I think was trout, over risotto. I also had a side of asparagus. It was all extremely delicious. We talked about a whole lot of nothing; safe to say we had covered all the major topics in the 10 days prior. We just enjoyed what we had. Life was good.

So good you guys. So. Good.
After dinner we stopped at Lime to see Matt. He makes an excellent gimlet. We talked about Internet data plans, among other things. Matt would not let me take his picture, because he's difficult. I listened to he and Ang gossip. The Squash Player appeared. Matt ordered a pizza from Chapel which was a) delivered and b) not even sold at full price. He's apparently difficult and special.


Difficult and special.
As you would probably guess, Ang, TSP and I ended up at Chapel. I was there my first night. I was there my last night. Ang tolerated TSP & I discussing books for a little bit. there was also further discussion of the builder from the previous night. Good times. I ordered a silly drink that had previously gone ignored on the menu. Ang & I stayed (not too) late in the night, discussing girly things and giggling. I love my friend.

Then it was time for me to come home.

Where the magic happens.

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