After sleeping late, Wade and I tarted ourselves up and walked a few minutes down Cheltenham Beach to North Head where Byron and Briar were to be married. It was a great little spot, a small grassy enclave looking out onto the beach and Rangitoto Island in the distance. Loads of familiar faces had joined us by that stage and it was great seeing all the old gang again, many of whom I hadn't caught up with since varsity days or leaving for England. The wedding party looked stunning of course and there'll be photos up here when I get the films developed. The reception was held at Milford Primary School which had an excellent hall and a great deck overlooking Lake Pupuke ... the remainder of the evening was spent eating, drinking, dancing and congratulating and a damn good time was had by all.
Slightly tender the next morning, we rose and headed over to Briar's parents' place to spend the rest of the afternoon barbequing, pétanquing and sipping gingerly by the pool to the strains of an absolute mountain of presents being unwrapped and duly catalogued. The fact that it was Byron's 30th birthday (married by 30 - just!) merely added to day. I also managed to squeeze in a quick drink or two with Jen, who was over with her partner David for a wedding as well, before dashing off to the airport and a return to Wellington. As I said, a fantastic weekend.
And so, to Leg Three ... Sydney beckons at the ungodly hour of 6:30am so I'll be breakfasting across the ditch before you can say Jack Robinson. The next five nights are going to be even madder ...
‹ 26.2.03
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Ahh, the Bay of Islands. Prior to last weekend, I'd never been there before but Byron's "stag do" (buck's night/bachelor party/insert your own culture's idiom here) proved to be the perfect opportunity to put that to rights. After an inauspicious two-and-a-half hour delay at the airport, I touched down in Auckland and headed over to the North Shore to see Byron and Briar's new pad and puppy. And very nice they both were too. The troops assembled the next morning and we set off for Paihia - about three hours north. I hadn't realised the interior of the tip of the North Island was so ragged - the only real flat stretch lies just before Whangarei, but you can't really complain when you're wending your way through such great countryside.
So, we arrived in Paihia, dumped our stuff at the motel and took off for nine holes at Waitangi. I last played golf about fifteen years ago so needless to say I was a little apprehensive about slinging the old irons around. And yes, my fears were proven correct ... a more shambolic and inconsistent round you'll hardly be likely to see. When the ball got off ground and flew in a straight line towards the green, it was sheer magic. When it didn't ... well, let's just say that by the eighth hole, the toys were just about to vacate the pram.
After that throrough leg-stretching, we repaired to the town centre and proceeded to leer up in true last-weekend-of-freedom fashion. Byron was forced to wear a pink nylon shellsuit for the evening (although not that much actual coercion was necessary ... hmmm) and we wound up at a backpackers bar which was conveniently running a karaoke night. Several rounds of beer later, the groom-to-be entertained us with his inimitable vocal stylings ("I Will Survive" will never sound the same again). Another of our number, Brent, then wowed the masses with his rendition of Eminem's "Without Me". The lad then went on to win the whole damn competition and us a fifty dollar bar tab ... somehow the order for fourteen shots of tequila became forty shots of tequila which was promptly deposited in various men's room receptacles by certain members of the group (your's truly excepted, thankfully). The evening was rounded off with a quick visit to a ropey nightclub (yes Mr DJ, you can successfully mix Metallica with hard house!) before we all called it a night.
Day two commenced with various hangover remedies before setting out into the Bay itself for a day's fishing. I managed to catch a few rubbish fish (and foul-hooked them to boot - the shame) and the rest of the gang's tally wasn't much better. Still, a day in the sun and shooting the breeze in beautifully still conditions is nothing to complain about. Following fish and chips for dinner, the New Zealand v. South Africa cricket match was watched - we watched the Black Caps getting slaughtered by the Saffers but awoke the following morning to the news that by some freakish miracle, our guys had won. Wonders will never cease.
Our last day saw a bit of culture injected into the proceedings - we returned to Waitangi and took a tour of the Treaty House and grounds, where New Zealand offically began all those years ago. A very interesting experience and one that provided some food for thought for the English guys in the party. After that, it was a leisurely drive back to Auckland, dinner with ex-London flattie Jason and then the flight back to Wellington. Phew!
Right, now I'm off to Auckland again ... this time for the wedding proper! By gum, this jet-setting lifestyle leaves a boy exhausted. But in the best possible way, of course.
‹ 20.2.03
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Business proposal for banks: first, there was phone banking, then internet banking and now ... ThoughtBanking™. I was coming home on the bus today, thinking "Maybe I should boost the meager credit limit on my credit card ..." (due to an upcoming trans-Tasman jaunt) and when I got home there was a nice letter from the bank pre-approving me for a credit increase effective February 27, the day I leave for Sydney. I couldn't have planned it better myself.
‹ 12.2.03
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Somethings you just don't miss about London:
[via a friend of a colleague]
‹ 12.2.03
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It's hot today. Scorching hot. And on hot days, fires tend to break out. Some, not very far from here. Take a look at the haze which has currently settled over the city:
If you compare it with what a normal sunny day looks like, you'll see the difference. Pretty minor league stuff compared to what our Australian cousins have to put up with but worrying nonetheless.
‹ 9.2.03
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In one of the stranger factoids to emerge in the wake the Columbia disaster, check out song titles three through seven of this album. [via Popbitch]
‹ 8.2.03
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From the "did you know" files ... did you know that that brilliant Barcelonan, Antoni Gaudí (I kiss him, I really do) had designed a massive hotel for the site formerly occupied by the World Trade Center? The building itself would have been monstrous (bigger than the Chrysler Building), absolutely stunning and very rocket-like in its façade ... no mean accomplishment considering he drew up the plans in 1908. Apparently, the blueprints have been submitted to the LMDC ... what a shame though that it probably doesn't stand a snowball's of ever being constructed.
‹ 6.2.03
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On this day, 163 years ago, the Treaty of Waitangi (literally "the waters of lamentation") was signed between Maori chiefs and representatives of Queen Victoria. It's considered New Zealand's founding document and goes a little something like this. While Waitangi Day is our national day as such, its marking is still not without controversy - witness this year's debacle over a ban on non-Maori media within the inner scantum of the Te Tii marae ... a source of much debate within this household yesterday and today! Still, that's what a good national day should be all about really - reflecting on the things that both unite and divide our cultures on a blustery, sunshine-filled holiday day.
‹ 6.2.03
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Cupid's time is nigh once more and thanks to Meg's all-round-HTML-and-scripting-loveliness, you can let the ones you love know just how much you care about them. Or not as the case may be!
‹ 4.2.03
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A nice little piece on memories in the digital age from Wired mag:
Mechanical memory - to its unexpected advantage - degrades. Colors fade, negatives crack, manuscripts grow brittle, grooves get scratched. What emerges from these depredations is a crucial sense of both the pastness of the past, and its presence. Time takes just enough out of acetate and celluloid to remind us of the distance between now and then, while leaving just enough to remind us of the nearness of our own history.Mr Lewis has also written an interesting snippet on the world's first photograph.But digital memory - ubiquitous, fathomless, and literally gratuitous - serves neither idea: The past is always here and always perfect; everything can be represented, no moment need be lost. Moreover, all of it is as good as new, and every copy identical to the original. What's missing is a cadence, a play of values, or a respect for the way loss informs our experience of time. Like the map that's as big as the world itself, it's useless precisely because it's too good.
‹ 1.2.03 / 0 comment(s) ›