My day started with a visit to J down the road for an excellent coffee on her beautiful, if too hot, balcony, so on repairing indoors we finished quickly as she needed to be in Island Bay at eleven. Her friends at the Bay were having a traditional folkdance party, the name of which escapes me, and I was invited. I wisely decided to say no. With two more events this afternoon I need to conserve my energy, so after a safe delivery I drove along the Promenade and found this local cafe to have a late breakfast, see below.
My BLT Bagel...
The Prime Minister stuffing up...
A busy cafe
Families having breakfast...
The Hilton at Lake Taupo
The Sunday papers are worth a read; Kiwis are a literate mob and they write with honesty and panache. Already two Booker Prize winners to their credit from the Vic Uni creative writing school.
I see more news of bad governance, mistakes made decades, if not a century ago, such as the narrow rail gauge from top to bottom thus preventing any decent train speed being used or for that matter, any decent trains. The fault of a penny-pinching Prime Minister who thought it better to save money rather than think of the future. Now they are squabbling about extending the Wellington Airport runway to allow large OS planes to land and bring millions of dollars into the city, and country. They move slowly at top levels here, and that is a frustration for an Aussie.
However there are secrets like the Taupo Hilton, with the original built in the 1800s and now refurbished in the most divine countryside to house an luxury hotel with a gourmet reataurant. If you have the money this would be the place to spend a few days or a week and explore the surrounding countryside. There is just so much to do here if you are not counting your dollars, 'cos it ain't cheap, this beautiful isolated island country.
It is six p.m. and I am now recovering from a very friendly AGM. It was typical Wellington in its informality, with a distinct lack of protocol and generous offering of food and drink afterwards. The Gay swimming club, called the DSW, acronym for Different Strokes Wellington, is a recently formed group and is growing slowly but surely. I resisted an invitation to be on the committee although it would have been a delight. They are a super friendly bunch and have created a very positive and progressive club with a straight female coach who is loved by all, and to whom the DSW is her 'second family', and the not so token straight male member, who is brave enough to come regularly and who feels more than safe with his gay brothers and sisters. There were four women there today btw, but it is mainly men, and a lovely bunch as well.
Strangely, tonight is also the final night and party of our dance group, similar to the swimmers, but on the dance floor instead of the pool. I'm sure it will be a good two hours social class with lots of fond farewells and Christmas wishes. I just hope I can survive it as I may have overbooked today's activities, I am really ready for bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment