We did not set off out yesterday until after lunch, by which time the
rest of Christchurch had decided to descend on the Waimakariri River Regional
Park as well. Fortunately we found a parking spot; the rest of the good folks
from the city were parked out on the shingle river bed with their picnic
umbrellas up shading the eskis of beer, and they themselves mostly in the river
cooling off from the temperatures in the mid-thirties. We were more interested
in seeking exercise, so we set off downriver along the walking trail, mostly
shaded by poplars and willows, and mostly protected from the dust kicked up by
the traffic heading in the same direction just a few metres north.
It was absolutely astounding to see the number of people enjoying the
river and surrounds, something one sees more in Australia than here in New
Zealand, however in all fairness, the temperatures were very like those enjoyed
(or not) in Australia.
We walked for just over half an hour, the last part along the exposed
stop bank, reminding me of walks we undertook along the Brisbane Rail Trail just
one year ago; little shade and relentless sun. We could see no immediate relief
from the high bank so turned back, still satisfied with our efforts. Only a
soft serve ice-cream would relieve our discomfort, so we travelled on up to Kaiapoi
just a few kilometres north, to the Scottish Restaurant and sat in the
air-conditioning for as long as we could, before heading back to our patch
among the chestnut trees.
This morning we were woken by one of the neighbours’ chooks, squawking
and clacking for goodness knows what reason. If she was laying, the egg must have
become stuck because her ruckus went on and on and on. What a way to be woken
on one’s wedding anniversary! Yes, a mere twelve years, but nearly twenty one
together, so I guess we are not doing too badly for third time rounders.
We rang through to the motorhome manufacturers to ask after their sign writers;
it is after all, essential to have one’s motorhome name on the front of the vehicle!
Rob said he would organise that for us which we thought very decent. That in
fact had been the main task for the day so there was little left to do but
leave the orchard, perhaps for the last time, or at least for this month,
refill one of our gas bottles, dump and wander about a few shops sussing out
things we might need (or want) for our new motorhome.
We had in mind to eat out for lunch, but Mondays are not a good day to
do so; it is the one day that restaurateurs like to have off from their
demanding lives. We wandered about the streets and malls of Hornby finding only
the cafes and muffin vendors open, so settled for Kentucky Fry rather than
MacDonalds, both always open for business. We had not been to KFC for at least
twelve years; this we ascertained from our memory of having our youngest son,
still an early teenager with us. I had a “Moroccan wrap” which sounded half way
decent, and it was indeed, and Chris had The All Rounder aka The Lot, a great assortment of chips,
and “popcorn” and chicken and potatoes and gravy and fizzy drink and my chips
as well. Hot drinks are not available, nor is water from the tap; I had to ask
for a paper cup to decant the bottled water. This was indeed a new experience,
and now had, can wait for another twelve years or so. However the flavours
remained in my sensors for some time, a pleasant reminder of the tasty lunch,
until we arrived at our camp of the next few nights and washed it away with our
regular coffee.
Our anniversary outing caused us great mirth, both in the
restaurant and back home, and I am sure we will laugh some more as we enjoy the
bottle of wine we picked up to enjoy with our simple tea tonight.
However, just in case you are thinking that was a cheapskate way to celebrate
an anniversary, don’t forget we are picking up our very smart motorhome in the
next few days, and what a gift to each other that is! And it is because of
that, we are camped here on the south side of Christchurch, ready to respond
immediately to Rob’s call. Since arrival we have removed our “wings”, an
absolute no-no for club members wanting to utilise these club parks, but I have
sello-taped them to a card for display on the windscreen. We are half expecting
a diligent fellow member to come over and reprimand us for this misdemeanour.
Our new wings will be already affixed to the vehicle when we pick it up.
In the meantime the sun shines and a gale blows across the plains,
causing the motorhome to rock and roll, the blinds and roof vents to rattle.
Hopefully the wind will have lessened a little for the laundry I want to do
tomorrow.
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