This was the view from our bedroom window...
And a 30 second walk to the beach...
Despite forecasts to the contrary, Saturday was sunny and warm. We went out to Cathedral Cove, which is only accessible via a 45 minute walk. It seems longer, but once you finally drop down onto the sand it feels like you've stepped into a postcard. It really is as pretty as it looks in the photos.
With the unexpected sun came the usual consequences - aka sunburn. Three days later I was already peeling. Oh well. We spent the afternoon watching the family channel on the giant visi-screen (aka looking out the villa window at the neighbours chase their children and get drunk.)
On Sunday morning I was itching to go for a drive, so I nabbed the keys to the 330i and headed out. The road between Whenuakite and Tairua is awesome: smooth, and twisty like a breakdancing snake. So what else to do but dump the car into sporty shift mode, and spank it like a red-headed step-child? This is the first good chance I've had to thrash the Bimmer, and it turns out to be a bit of a lead-tipped arrow. Well, not bad overall, but the 3.0 up front is a little heavy and makes the nose push wide at the limit, and the lack of decent (electronic) throttle response, and auto, makes it hard to be precise.
By mid morning, the visi-screen was stuck on the weather channel, and the forceast was bleak. We drove around to Whitianga, which is the nearest town of more reasonable size, though not a very exciting place on the whole. Perhaps the rain and lack of seasonal holidaymakers took the edge off it.
By Monday the weather was even worse. We had planned to spend some time at Hotwater Beach, and we did go for a looksee and to dip the toes, but we weren't as keen as the small number who were mad enough to strip off to their cossies and lie in the warm (sometimes very hot) pools. The thought of spending a couple of hours in wet togs for the drive home wasn't that appealing either.
Monday was also Guy Fawkes Night, and sadly we hadn't bought any fireworks. Fortunately, everyone else in Auckland had, so we were treated to the joy of about 3 hours of pyrotechnics, and the suburbs sounding like a minor warzone. What a great way to celebrate a convicted terrorist. I wonder if in a few hundred years we'll be partying up for bin Laden Night, and introducing young children to the joy of coloured sparklers and third-degree burns? Despite some 800 tonnes of fireworks being delivered, apparently this was the quietest Night in several years... Fireworks have still been popping occasionally every night since.
Tuesday - ah, Cup Day! Sadly not a public holiday, though they are pretentious enough over here to call it "The Race That Stops Two Nations", and try to claim the winning horse as their own (via breeding, ownership, training, or whatever desperate connection they can manage to find. It would seem that if the jockey's cousin's boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's sister once stopped over at Auckland airport on her way to LAX, then a winning horse can be regarded as a true Kiwi.)
Love to all, please stay in touch! (oh, and we're under "drjoking" on Skype if you want to talk...)
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