Being unemployed is much more enjoyable than working lengthy days. It means I have plenty of free time to do… Well, nothing. Which suits me perfectly.
I suppose if I was being truthful, then I’m not actually doing nothing. I have much more free times, which means I am finally reading more, as well as writing more… and binge-watching TV Series, which I am slightly less proud of. But either way, it means I spend more time with friends, and actually enjoy myself more overall.
As I mentioned last post, our Dutch friend, Niels had to suddenly depart New Zealand due to unfortunate circumstances. Luckily, I was able to take my last day off work to spend the day with him (in other words: I quit earlier than expected).
So, what did we do on this fine day? Well, we watched many many MANY episodes of the Walking Dead during the day (which I now cannot watch until he comes back in about a month – very upsetting). When it came to the evening, we, as a hostel group, ventured out to the Botanical Gardens where there happens to be a three-week music festival going on.
When I say music festival, I do not mean the likes of Leeds Fest (the grimy and utter carnage festival that exists in my closest hometown) or of Rhythm & Vine (the New Zealand equivalent of Leeds Fest). This festival is targeted much more at families, where pretty much anybody is welcome. No admission fee, just bring your own alcohol and enjoy the music.
The good thing, is that this festival has a different genre of music every night. So far I have been to two concerts: a Country/Folk one (which was a bit too mellow and lethargic for my liking), and a Rock/Pop concert (much more suited to my taste).
So that is how I spent my last day with my Dutch friend, and though he is coming back in about a month, it is only for a few days before he must leave to go back to the Netherlands. Still, it is much better than nothing!
I also happen to be going to another of the concerts tonight, where I actually have no idea what the music is going to be… So that could be very interesting… or just plain terrible… or incredible. We shan’t no until tonight (I feel like I want to use the word “shan’t” more often… I shall endeavour to do so).
Niels to the left of me (Angela and Phillip behind).
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!
Much to my childish delight, me, Kim, and Kirsten (three quarters of Team England) decided it was high time we took the very long and arduous journey (meaning actually having to take a bus – a form of public transport! – for about fifteen minutes) to the Zoo.
Even though I am the youngest, I definitely was not the most excited. Kim has an incredible love for animals. Which is a bit strange, as she states that she loves animals, but loves taxidermy and eating them just as much… something I’ve never quite got my head round.
Either way, we all had a grand time at the zoo. We fed giraffes, looked scornfully at an ostrich (because, you know, they’re grumpy bastards), cooed and went “aww” over Tasmanian Devils and Red Pandas, grew very bored of a sleeping tiger, and got annoyed with sun bears that refused to show us their chests where the ‘sun’ resides.
I also was very upset by the fact that the penguins were not out and about, which was to be my favourite part of the zoo.
Oh, and how could I forget the meerkats? This must’ve been my favourite part (as the penguins were feeling mean). I can’t remember the last time I saw meerkats, but I’d forgotten how small and adorable they were. Strangely enough, Word (where I type my blog first before copying onto my blog) does not recognise the word “meerkats”. Either way, I took one of the greatest photos of a meerkat looking at Kim. I also had the privilege of witnessing a meerkat fight, though I believe it was only a play fight.
So adorable (red panda).
That was the best I managed…
Lastly, but most definitely not least, come the bruises. I am covered in these. I have one on my forehead, at least three on my left thigh, one on my back, and two on my hand. The reason?
Paintballing.
I have not been paintballing for at least four years – the last time being one of my birthdays. This time, this paintballing was called “Blackout”. And yes, this was as exciting as it sounds. I shall attempt to re-create the atmosphere.
Imagine you are in a room. A room that happens to be pitch-black, except for the fluorescent light of glowsticks that are scattered across the floor. You’re crouched down, breathing heavily, the adrenaline pulsating through your body, as you attempt to be silent and stealthy. Your gun is raised, searching for any slight bit of movement. Silence envelopes you, as you strain your ears. Then you hear the whiz of a bullet flying past you, interrupting the creepy silence, and seemingly far too close to you for comfort. You see a small glowing ball strike a barrel, and explode with a loud ‘tang’ that is only created by metal being hit. And then you see the ultraviolet paint begin to slowly slide down the barrel.
That’s when you see a shadow move out of the corner of your eye. You raise your gun and fire, trying to conserve your very limited ammo. Then the movement fires back, and suddenly you find yourself in a fierce firefight, as you reel away behind cover and wait, trying to find a way to sneak up and take down your opponent.
Not sure if that description lives up to the experience but it was seriously eerie in there. You can see why it’s called “Blackout”. Definitely the better of my two paintballing experiences. I also had the honour and pride of leading my team of three to victory against opposing forces, where none of us “died”.
In another match, I sacrificed for my teammate by leaving our cover and “killing” two opposition… but at the same time being shot in the forehead. I still count that as a win.
My back bruise.
My forehead bruise.
That about sums up my week. I also have some other news, but that is still undergoing procedures, so I will not let the world know of my plans just yet.
Family and friends will be pleased (or probably displeased) to learn that I am currently in the process of changing my homeward flight from May 12th to June 22nd… Although, I did like the idea of leaving Auckland on the 12th and arriving in Honolulu on the 11th, meaning two things: firstly, that I’d gone back in time; and secondly that I would have two birthdays. But still, May 12th is not a suitable time for me to go home…We shall see what happens before that! Stay tuned in for more.
A Weary Traveller 