Happy Places

Monday, January 04, 2016

So as you'll see I haven't written anything in a few days, which is becoming very unusual for me. I'm on here almost every day now, inciting body confidence to the masses or ranting on about ex boyfriends, crazy relatives and university stress. It's seems I have infact, become a blogger. How strange.

What really surprises me the most about this blog is how many people actually take the time out of their day to read it. I think most of my readership is my Mother and her friends, maybe the odd individual who stumbles across my ramblings while scouring the internet, but either way whoever you may be, thank you. I truely appreciate the support.

Carrying on, the reason I haven't been present in a few days is because I'm currently on holiday. At least once a year for as long as I can remember, my Mum and I have driven to Pauanui with family friends to stay at their bach. It's always fun. We drink too much, eat copious amounts of rich calorie-ridden food, play boardgames and storm the beach likes a band of merry crusaders, kicking in sandcastles, frolicking in the waves, and eventually burying someone in the dunes and jokingly leaving them there (don't worry, we always come back).

This year our trip was marred by an idiot in a 4wd. Coming down the hill over the speed limit, in terrible weather and towing a trailer, some wanker saw the massive queue of traffic and, realising they did not have time to brake, crossed the centreline to avoid running into anyone. Coming round the corner, my Mum barely had time to swerve out of the way before the huge 4wd collided with our tiny corolla. We were fine, but if Mum hadn't swung out of the way in time, the situation could have been a lot worse. We weren't hurt and the wine was fine (thank god), but needless to say the Tait-mobile is a tad munted.

Luckily for us the Davis', who were just over the hill when the accident happened, came to our rescue and as a result, right at this moment I'm sitting upstairs on the floor, listening to some bizarre Coromandel radio station, complete with hair loss advertisements and 90s boyband tunes. The bach itself is very 1970s, with wooden panels on the walls and old sofas that sag in exactly the right places. Currently, my friend is sitting across the table from me, attempting to complete an ancient 100-piece Winnie the Pooh puzzle (remember him?). She's seventeen now, but I've known her since she was just a little chubba-lubba, stripping off her clothes any chance she got, stealing chocolates from the top of the fridge when her parents weren't looking, and generally causing havoc. It's bizarre to think that we've been coming here for over a decade. When we first started staying here, we would bring the dog, an insane Dalmatian called Gracie who ate everything and often pulled a runner when her nose compelled her to do so. She's long gone now of course, and we have a cat called Einstein (also an asshole, although handsome) who guards our Auckland home while we're away.

In fact I don't even remember the first time we stayed here, but I do remember I didn't feel the need to wear a bra (although let's be honest, I still don't) nor did I have a cellphone or a laptop. Days were spent in the ocean, whether being pulled behind the boat on the sea biscuit, or at the beach. We'd leave mid morning, and return salty and sun-baked in the late afternoon. I remember the walk back to the bach always being my least favourite part of our beach trips. I didn't enjoy wearing shoes (lol still don't) so the walk back through a thistle-infested field, while my wet salty board shorts chaffed my thighs like sandpaper, was my ultimate hate. After being throughly washed down with the outside hose, we'd feast on afternoon tea. We'd lay out lettuce and cheese and various dips, leftovers from the night before and cold meats, and we'd make sandwiches. As we got older, we'd spend more days lazing on the beach in our polka dot bikinis, in floppy black hats and rose-tinted sunglasses. It's safe to say that some of my earliest memories involve this bach. We've all changed and grown up, but this house has remained steadfast. It's been done up and modernised over the years, but to me it's the same old rundown bach I've known since I was a kid. A happy place.

So I probably won't be on here for a few more days yet. If anyone needs me I'll be inhaling fruit cake and red wine, reading the latest from Margaret Atwood and having a jolly time. I believe we are about to commence a thousand-piece puzzle so I better get to it.

See you in a few days babes xx

The weather hasn't exactly been ideal this year, gotta love New Zealand summers ae...

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