Kiwi Christmas
Pauanui Panorama (click for larger)
Home is where the heart is. This was to be my first Christmas home for three years and I was looking forward to seeing family and sinking my teeth into a juicy glazed Christmas ham laced with cherries and pineapple. And kiwifruit and strawberries and Pavlova and Christmas cake… No Sushi for Christmas, thank you.
But that’s not quite the way it happened. Only an hour into my flight down the Pacific a tingling in my stomach erupted. I didn’t know what it was but for the longest 10 hours I puked and prayed to the porcelain god. I arrived in Auckland airport in a wheelchair. (Naomi later told me I had contracted the Noro virus which was doing the rounds in Japan apparently). Mum and Dad, it was so great to see you there smiling. Home.
Pauanui base camp
Come Christmas day I couldn’t indulge my ‘eyes bigger than my stomach’. Aunties, the lunch looked awesome. The evening BBQ on dads side was a cracker too, and by then I could even enjoy some awesome steak. Everyone, everything, felt wonderfully the same 
Family was the theme for my summer home. A bit of golf with dad at Chamberlain park, getting in some BY’s cricket with the bro (who won Pika?), dins with mum and hanging out in Oma and Opies back new backyard. And then I went away.
Rosco, Cath (cuz missus) and I rolled on down to Pauanui Beach and camped it up for 5 days through New Years. Having been away from a real beach for so long, Pauanui looked like a slice of heaven. Body surfing, Pohutakawas, white sand, BBQ’s, Hacky, frizzlebee, isolated showers, cold beers…bring on the Kiwiana.
Number 2 Bymolt? Rosco?
New Years kicked off with some fireworks over the estuary (surprisingly spectacular) and then drinking and shinanegans, Ross insisting on getting ‘lost’, but failing. So he and I went on another mission in the smaller hours, crossing golf courses, airfields and waterways till we hit the surf club. There had been a liquor ban on the beach but you wouldn’t know it. Bottles lay in the shape of circles teenagers had stood in, giving the bizarre impression, to us anyway, that aliens must’ve taken them up with the tractor beam of the Mothership. On the dunes we sat watching the New Year’s morning mist take the shape of hands caressing the breasty hills at the northern end. And I’ll remember the suns first light awakening a golden phoenix from the surf spray on the southern headlands. Maybe you had to be there
Dad left on his own amazing South Island trip just after I got back to Auckland which gave me the opportunity to have some quality one to one time with Ella. My dog. With Ross, Cath and friends we headed out to Karekare beach, on the wilder west coast for a day of chilling. Black sand, fresh fruit, swimming between the flags, pohutakawas, beach cricket, sunburn… More Kiwiana.
Mum shouted me out to a day at the women’s semis at the Heineken Tennis Open. Hot weather, flying short skirts and good tennis made for a great day. And I made a wee appearance on centre court too. My name was drawn out of a hat and I was given the challenge to hit a tennis ball into a bucket at the other end of the court. No one else came close but after hitting the rim twice, I landed my shot in and walked away with a cool $100 and a bit of crowd applause
Karekare, rugged as.
Day became night and Ross, Cath and I hit the town. Although I hadn’t gotten hold of any other mates to join us, I ran into no end of random people that I hadn’t seen for 3 years. Sponge bar was still looking good, and I felt the urge to spend my tennis winnings on a decent bottle of champagne. We mossied on up Ponsonby Rd, dropping in here and there, stalked K Rd, popped into the raving Staircase, and made a beeline for Kuja lounge. I had my farewell at Kuja those years ago, but this time they had shut up early. Not the Kuja attitude I remember. Calibre had disappeared, Kiss and Baccios were shut and apparently now Wyndum street is dead. So for the final act we slinked off to the Supper Club on Bearesford Street and talked trash to a few locals. Feijoa vodkas, a crazy plan to bungy from the harbour bridge (didn’t happen), Nangs, and the Black Craps vs Sri Lanka at Eden park the next day (their worst performance in history). Kiwiana again!
Roger Plays Centre Court
Rosco and Cath, my biggest, manliest thanks for the best times together, Corky, AJ, Jules and Justin it was great to have a decent catchup (Jules, big ups for those CD mixes And my apologies to everyone who I just couldn’t meet up with. To all of you sprinkled round the world I hope your Christmas holidays were laced with happiness.
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