xmas

I took a 12 hour bus adventure from New Plymouth to Whangerei to surprise my parents for Christmas. I rocked up at a restaurant where my parents and my brother were eating, hoping to give them all the shock of their lives. It was a shame that the food hadn't arrived yet because I think my dad would have dropped a mouthful of food from his mouth just like they do in the movies. My mum was a lot more vocal about her surprise though - she gave a reaction that could have only been matched by seeing a puppy on the street.

I think a shout goes out to my Aunty Christine and Uncle Ron for being the inside operatives for the mission.

We all drove back to the country house which we were staying at for the week. There was not much to do, but the view was remarkable - right in view of the rough New Zealand waves. I think I was really living out a rich white kids dream by staying in the country house because it fulfilled so many bourgeoisie (yes, I did need to look that word up) stereotypes. Every bedroom had its own personal bathroom, there was a pool table, a personal bar in the lounge, and a Jacuzzi! The only thing missing from the house was; expensive whisky, cigars, and a large range of slightly differently sized top hats & monocles. Despite this and the 1920’s internet connection, I still had a really good time. My brother and I invented a new game called “death ball” on the pool table - a game where you have to throw marble balls across the table and sink them into the opponents two goals. We never kept score, but we still managed to measure who lost based on how bruised your hands were.

On the second last day in the country palace our uncle rewarded my constant nagging with a small fishing trip. We never left the harbor, but we still pulled out our rods and plunged them into the ocean (that’s not a metaphor, I promise). After about 20 minutes I caught a ‘alkfjas;l asd;k’ and had a photo with it. Shortly afterwards, I unhooked the fish and threw it back into the water so it could swim again. To everyone’s surprise however, the fish didn’t swim, it just rested on the surface of the water, bobbing up and down to the motion of the waves lifelessly. I was caught between feeling sympathetic for the fish and feeling proud in my ability to get a headshot with a metal hook.

On the last day I travelled home by taking a 6 hour bus ride from Auckland to New Plymouth. The bus ride back was OK. I hadn’t eaten much that day and my stomach had gotten very selfish after Christmas so I was pretty hungry on the bus. What made matters worse was that a 30 year old woman sat next to me while my stomach was grumbling and moaning for more food. I tried to act as nonchalant (yes, I also looked that word up) as I could by listening to my music and looking out the window, but it was very tough when your stomach was grumbling as loud and as often as a 3 year old throwing a temper tantrum. A solution was reached, however, when the 30 year old lady found a vacant seat further back in the bus right next to an obese teenager wearing a basketball singlet. Overall, the bus ride back was still better than the bus ride in – I didn’t have to pay attention to elderly women talking about their granddaughters and grandsons problems in school/ work/ life.

Overall, I think I had an enjoyable Christmas. It was nice surprising my family and socializing with extended family. There were a lot of memories created, but I think the part I’ll remember most about this trip was having a staring competition with a cow. “Ol’ spotty” lost the staring competition, but still put up a good fight.