Now Voyager: Lower Hutt and Fir's Return

Yesterday I had the pleasure of coming home to meet my lovely housemate who had just returned from Oman. With many stories to tell, some good, some not so good, Fir is a most welcome return to our home.

Today I am having my ears cleansed, or the right ear to be precise, and it is not just that, but sun-spots burnt off and blood pressure taken etc all for $25! This is Lower Hutt, where the real Kiwis live. It is cheaper, of couse, still bloody windy however, but simpler and quite like Gosford I feel. Wow, that's saying something!

So I have just been to see the RN at my doctor's surgery who kindly not just syringed my right ear very efficiently, but looked at my skin-spots and did those too with her nitrogen on a cotton bud, just to save me another visit. She also gave me a free syringe to keep my ear free of wax using bicarbsoda as she told me her husband does. Yes, we shared some intimate details, but that's what Kiwis are like, they share their lives and when I told her I was HIV Poz she warmed up even more as she then regaled me with stories of some of her friends who had died from AIDS. It is always a segue, being Positive, with someone who is chatty and interested, like most Kiwis btw.

So this is the ever lovin' Kiwiland that I'll be leaving in six months, soon to be five, it will go very fast I know that. I am stitting waiting for the Valley Flyer bus to take me the fifty minute ride back to the city, and I may even have a second coffee at the Library cafe where I am returning some old, and picking up some new, books.

Having found 'Burr' by Gore Vidal, and falling for 'The Judgement of Paris', which I read eons ago, my helpful librarian tells me she has secured Joyce's 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man' and it is waiting for me, no charge. How nice is she, I remember her from my last visit and perhaps she does me, too. Again the personal connection which is so important but often goes unnoticed here.

In the cafe I see two identically dressed young men, also identical in body shape and gait, walk by me in perfect unison of course, the only difference being the subtle hue of pink in which their shirts differ. They must be partners I think, but you never know. There are a lot of bromances going on in this exceptional city.

This library cafe is a hive of intellectual pursuit, I think. Or perhaps they are just gossiping. Probably both. My second coffee, strong of course, was ill-advised, as my heart starts beating much faster than when I had the blood pressure taken at Lower Hutt. One coffee is enough for me I must remind myself.

I am now off home to catch up on my promise to Ron to write him a letter of invitation to the dignitaries for this year's Candlelight Memorial. An important letter which I will have to think about before sending it to him. I owe him this after last week's unhappy incident.

The more I see of this city, this country, the more I see it as a crucible of intellectual ferment which fuels the world, albeit unknown, with so many of its worthy and artistic personalities.

Brekkie at Lower Hutt