Grimly determined to tour as much of New Zealand as their five-day visit and the driving rain would allow, Fitz and Belle spearheaded an overnight trip to the Bay of Islands. Like us, they thought it was a half-hour drive. After all, New Zealand isn’t that big.
Although bigger than you might think. In fact you might call it: deceptively large.
Therefore, it qualified more as a Road Trip than a mini-break. There were mad japes, comical misunderstandings, barfing (me, mainly; tamarillos fruit of Satan), and smutty livestock-based jokes.
Although it met most of the criteria, a serious Road Trip would have involved a handbrake mishap – perhaps the car rolling over a cliff into a lake – or being stolen or pumped full of strawberry jelly via a hose through a rear window. None of these things happened. Also, no intimate animal encounters. Despite his best efforts, Husband didn’t drive into a road sign or combine harvester. Nobody was pushed into a swimming pool; ditto liaisons with gorgeous, mysterious strangers. Well, just the one.
Maybe next time.
Russell seafront at dusk. This is when it all begins to happen. Not sure what ‘it’ is
Husband gets historical
Russell harbour in the morning
Fence posts and blue sky
Fitz plotting to steal my sunglasses, and Belle enjoying the sun for a change