A Night At The Motel

My Dear Princess and Dear Friends,

I am not in my own bed tonight, I am staying at Joshua's place for the evening.

The reason is this; I am flying to Whangārei at 7am tomorrow morning and there is no way I could make it for an early morning flight if I have to commute in from Paraparaumu. And Joshua is a very hospitable chap.

His time in Backpackerland overlapped with mine not at all. We were working it out tonight. He was basically just leaving the Edinburgh circle when I came in. 

I remember my first introduction to all of Caro's mates came all at once. It was a full-on evening because Polly the Irish Girl* was going home. 

Mom and Pop were there, I remember. And also Bossy Aussie. Who I remember as bossy even then. I stayed close to Caro.

Not that this was easy. Polly wanted to play Charades, but it was a really weird version. There were no books, plays or films. You were given a card with something surreal on it, like "A Flyer Caught Under A Windscreen Wiper" or "A Tube of Toothpaste Being Squeezed" or "An Eyeball".

I vaguely remember some little Australian man curled up in a ball on the floor, while Polly shouted at him, "BE THE THING, KEITH! BE THE THING!"

You may be unsurprised to hear that we didn't get it. 

From Edinburgh, Joshua travelled the world, working as a surveyor for oil companies from Kazakhstan to Saudi Arabia. I asked him if he ever missed those days and wanted to travelling again. He said no, although the money was good and the travel exciting, he likes Wellington because it's near to his family. And he added that it is even better now that Caro and I and Loulou and Tiger are also around.

I can understand this. Caro came back here for her family after all; and the Backpackerland family has been a joy to me as well. 

It's not that I think adventures are behind us. It's just that our adventures need not to stray too far these days.

Whangārei - and Nelson - will just have to do.

S.

* Nickname: "Thunder Chicken".