I woke up, showered, loaded my pack, and walked a block to meet with Caroline for coffee. She showed up—what a wonder—I AM adapting to that, however slowly.
We went to a place that I LOVE. A Café, very narrow, the ceiling is high, arching, quit old, ornate, chipping, peeling—beautiful. A portion of it is stained glass—also arching—green and blue, cubist, radiant.
Our coffee is served to us in tall glasses—iced, mocha and macchiato, creamy, delicious. The barista is a bearded Irishman in a Grateful Dead T-shirt. We sip our drinks slowly and catch up. She’s well today—in her own clothes: denim shorts, tank top and scarf—lost luggage found. Orientation was great, roommates turned out groovy, and she loves the hell out of her campus.
We talk, and later on laugh at the great lengths that we’ve continually spent waiting for one another, for whatever reason, and nostalgia sinks its teeth in—pretty funny, huh, after only a day?
My hostel is booked and I’m forced to switch lodgings. I don’t like the new hostel and over the day my resentment for it grows. I don’t know why.
Checking-out, we run into Nina. Introductions are made and the three of us—soon joined by Caroline’s school-chum—spend the next four hours walking and searching and seeking and wondering, all under the guise of doing “errands”.
We ate in an open place with many plants—they get bloated—it didn’t amount to much, and I decided that it was time to leave Auckland.
Nina and I booked tickets—her, for Hamilton, on Monday, where her first Nanny job is waiting—and me, I’m headed to The Bay of Plenty for a few days.
What’s there?
Hell if I know.
1 comments:
Yes! There will be PLENTY there.
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