A week ago today I was busily packing and preparing for the big trip. And now I’m here, living a different kind of life on Waiheke Island in Aotearoa.
It’s a strange sort of feeling, to be homeless (although living somewhere very nice), jobless (sort of) and temporarily far from A and not in the city. At times it's slightly disorientating, but also full of small, holiday-like pleasures – walking on the beach or down to the village, picking fruit from the tree.
These have become much more pleasurable since my big toe recovered from a stumble down the steps on my first morning here – although it’s still a fetching shade of purple.The Ostend market is a nice way to spend Saturday morning – supping on freshly squeezed tangelo juice, munching on pastries or Hungarian fried bread, learning about merino & muslin nappies and other designer baby gears, rifling through boxes of secondhand books, marvelling at the size of the lettuces and basil plants, and wincing at the impromptu busking of a pair of schoolgirls who quickly changed from red patent platforms to flat sneakers before dad arrived to pick them up. There seem to be lots of pregnant women around, and lots of enterprises geared to us and our babies. The population of the island is 8000, yet there are 2 antenatal yoga classes (I’ve sampled one already, conveniently a short walk from mum and dad’s).
I’m off to the big city tomorrow, for a morning swim at the Teps, a few bits of shopping and my first househunting foray. It’s all a bit daunting – the Herald Homes section of yesterday’s paper had 95 pages!!! Where to start? Top of my shopping list is a street atlas, so I can reacquaint myself with the city. I’ve found a seemingly helpful agent to drive me around a few places, so we’ll see how that goes.
Daylight saving ended today – hope that doesn’t mean the end of summer, as I haven’t seen too much sign of it yet, and still haven’t managed a swim in the sea. Kevin’s much more hardy – he’s been every day, even in the storm.
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