Devonport

Devonport


A busy morning leaving Aukland.

I had located a laundrette on a map, and Mum went to have her nails done. I lugged all our washing downtown and found trhis lovely restful place staffed by very calm smiling oriental women.

The washing in, I hurried back across town to help Mum check out, then it was back to the laundrette to put the clothes in the dryer . . but they were ahead of me and everything was tumbling away hypnotically. So I had a pot of tea in a pub and went into a dream.

The washing safely reclaimed and packed I went back to the hotel and couldn't find Mum, so the doorman put all the bags in the car and I found Mum. Then we sat in the car and prepared to depart. But the engine would not start. Whatever I did with the imobiliser, or what secret buttons I looked for I could NOT make it work \\I had to get the doorman to have a look.

He casually informed me you have to have your foot on the clutch to start the engine . . . well of course!

We drove North over the harbour bridge and soon we were in Lovely Devonport. We both fell in love with the place in an instant. The fact that its a working ferry / port with naval ships using it is great. The water45 was a beautiful colour, and reminded of Venice, it was misty and Aikland was barely visible like a memory just ghosting through.

We had a picnic at the waters edge watched by agulls and sparrows. There was a tree with a stone laid underneath it, it was in memory of the fact that on this spot a certain day in the past nothing happened.

The we drove to Karin's Garden Villa which I had booked over the internet. Such is the strangeness of this brave new world that on turning into Sinclair Ave, I imediately recognised it from Google Earth because I had in effect alreadyt been there. I secognised the house instantly.

Karin came to the door and spoke in a German accent. She had brown skin, grey hair and kind brown eyes. There was something about her I liked instantly. She had been expecting us the day before. That's happened again I thought. How odd. Then she said that this happens often with Europeans. I was a day out.

Damm! that neans I was wrong with the next booking and the one after that. I borrowed a phone from her and rang ahead. I explained the problem

"Your Kidding Me!" the voice on the other end of the line said irritably. I apologised and we got it sorted it out.

Then we had a lovely evening on Karin's veranda with a bottle of wine and some dips and snacks.

As the evening fell and it darkened we both felt more relaxed. Occasionallt a pear (about the size of a coconut) would fall from the tree. It was great.

In the morning at Breakfast we met another guest, an old old man who had moved to NZ from UK because his son had moved there. His wife had died a few yeares ago, and now recently so had his son.

"Just me the cat and the dog now" Mum asked if would go back to England, "Never" he said can't stand the place.

We left later that day for Rotorua.

With love.

Me
Mum
&
The World.