One week down, five and three quarter months to go....
Honestly, nothing extraordinary has happened since the extraordinary event of our arrival, or, as they’d say, there’s not much to write home about, quite yet…. and baby, no news IS good news. Over the last week Dave and I have been looking at one another in bewilderment asking, “How long have we been here again?” as it feels like someone lassoed the sun and we’re stuck in a strange time warp where time doesn’t really exist; but what does exist is the hot, blaring sun (more severe than ever without its protective coating, the ozone layer), sparkling, aquamarine ocean waves pounding the surf in a rhythmic serenade, rolling, emerald green hills and valleys dotted with fat, fluffy sheep, and cool, light, fragrant breezes gently caressing the surface of our skin as if to say, “Sleeeeep, precioussesses….” (I couldn’t wait any long to reference Gollum/Lord of the Rings, sorry.) We were so incredibly fortunate to have been introduced to Glen and Darlene, our superbly awesome hosts here in Tauranga Bay, by a Rochester friend (thanks Phat Mike!) as they have been spoiling us rotten with jaw dropping views, beers laced with lemons fresh from their lemon tree, bocce on white sandy beaches at the foot of the sparkling blue Pacific, lazy kayaking/drifting amidst mangroves along an estuary, fresh lamb chops and good conversation. Tomorrow they’ll drive us to their alpaca farm to meet and care for their four alpaca, Pinto, Quero, Harry and Banjo, and then drop us off at our very first WWOOFing farm, owned by a German couple who moved here 10 years ago, only to never look back; I hear that more often than not, “My friend/sister/cousin/neighbor went to New Zealand; that was X amount of years ago; they’re still there.” One week in, I can understand why.
Honestly, nothing extraordinary has happened since the extraordinary event of our arrival, or, as they’d say, there’s not much to write home about, quite yet…. and baby, no news IS good news. Over the last week Dave and I have been looking at one another in bewilderment asking, “How long have we been here again?” as it feels like someone lassoed the sun and we’re stuck in a strange time warp where time doesn’t really exist; but what does exist is the hot, blaring sun (more severe than ever without its protective coating, the ozone layer), sparkling, aquamarine ocean waves pounding the surf in a rhythmic serenade, rolling, emerald green hills and valleys dotted with fat, fluffy sheep, and cool, light, fragrant breezes gently caressing the surface of our skin as if to say, “Sleeeeep, precioussesses….” (I couldn’t wait any long to reference Gollum/Lord of the Rings, sorry.) We were so incredibly fortunate to have been introduced to Glen and Darlene, our superbly awesome hosts here in Tauranga Bay, by a Rochester friend (thanks Phat Mike!) as they have been spoiling us rotten with jaw dropping views, beers laced with lemons fresh from their lemon tree, bocce on white sandy beaches at the foot of the sparkling blue Pacific, lazy kayaking/drifting amidst mangroves along an estuary, fresh lamb chops and good conversation. Tomorrow they’ll drive us to their alpaca farm to meet and care for their four alpaca, Pinto, Quero, Harry and Banjo, and then drop us off at our very first WWOOFing farm, owned by a German couple who moved here 10 years ago, only to never look back; I hear that more often than not, “My friend/sister/cousin/neighbor went to New Zealand; that was X amount of years ago; they’re still there.” One week in, I can understand why.
No comments:
Post a Comment