I'm not quite sure what Boxing Day is all about, but I hear it's a great shopping day similar to our day after Thanksgiving. We didn't find out. Instead we spent much of the day delving into brochures on what to do in New Zealand. Amy and Kimball have been great hosts and have gone above and beyond in keeping us well-entertained. But now we start to realize we won't be able to do everything and the narrowing down of activities must begin. A pancake breakfast provides the energy needed for the daunting task ahead. The table is piled high with information, travel guides, and books creating, at first, a sense of being overwhelmed, then excitement at the possibilities, and finally clarity in knowing what we can't return to the U.S. without having seen. But of course that may change. We've found the weather can change in an instant, but that there is no bad option here. Every turn is breathtaking and every hike an adventure.
With definite plans tentatively etched in words, we head to the local museum. Here we learn the Maori (original inhabitants) story of the South Island. Through words, pictures, and video we explore the heritage of this beautiful place. A gentle mist is falling and it's a great day to be indoors. On the way home we stop for our first big shopping experience at the local grocery store. The European influence is obvious. The bakery is fully-stocked with fresh goods. Another customer suggests a delicious-looking dark bread topped with sunflower seeds, which we add to our basket. The brand names are a little different. The aisle in California that is devoted to coffee, here is mostly tea. The small-town feel is also apparent. Amy says if there are more than two people in line (I mean "queue"), they comment on how busy the store is. When checking out, the lady asks "Is that the lot?" And we assume she means, "Is that all?" We're not quite sure what else she says, but we smile and she accepts our credit card. As we leave nobody runs after us, but I'm sure more than one person is amused by these strange foreigners with their funny accents.
Stopping by the beach on the way home, we drive right onto the sand. The beach is supposedly crowded, but I can't even count ten people. There are a couple kayakers playing in the waves and a few other people driving on the sand. The waves look good and we debate getting our surfboards. But once we get home, we are easily distracted and surfing must wait for another day. Hopefully, another day when we can meet up with some friends and borrow their surfboards so we don't have to share Kimball's board.
At home, we enjoy a warm bowl of miso soup and the scrumptious bread we just bought. Dessert consists of home-made fresh almond roca eaten slowly as a game of cards ensues. Vacation is best served with an entree of adventure and sides of leisure. Following dinner, we drive around the corner to Anderson's Park. This mansion hosts a duck pond adorned by a bridge. Green lawns and flowers wrap around the house. A path meanders through thick forest on one side of the house. In the distance, fields house the now common view: sheep. The first really blue sky we've seen yet appears and the sun is almost too bright. Amazing what difference having no pollution can make.
The day comes to a close with a slideshow of Amy and Kimball's honey-moon pictures as well as the pictures we have been unable to control ourselves from taking so far. We are thankful for digital cameras.
With definite plans tentatively etched in words, we head to the local museum. Here we learn the Maori (original inhabitants) story of the South Island. Through words, pictures, and video we explore the heritage of this beautiful place. A gentle mist is falling and it's a great day to be indoors. On the way home we stop for our first big shopping experience at the local grocery store. The European influence is obvious. The bakery is fully-stocked with fresh goods. Another customer suggests a delicious-looking dark bread topped with sunflower seeds, which we add to our basket. The brand names are a little different. The aisle in California that is devoted to coffee, here is mostly tea. The small-town feel is also apparent. Amy says if there are more than two people in line (I mean "queue"), they comment on how busy the store is. When checking out, the lady asks "Is that the lot?" And we assume she means, "Is that all?" We're not quite sure what else she says, but we smile and she accepts our credit card. As we leave nobody runs after us, but I'm sure more than one person is amused by these strange foreigners with their funny accents.
Stopping by the beach on the way home, we drive right onto the sand. The beach is supposedly crowded, but I can't even count ten people. There are a couple kayakers playing in the waves and a few other people driving on the sand. The waves look good and we debate getting our surfboards. But once we get home, we are easily distracted and surfing must wait for another day. Hopefully, another day when we can meet up with some friends and borrow their surfboards so we don't have to share Kimball's board.
At home, we enjoy a warm bowl of miso soup and the scrumptious bread we just bought. Dessert consists of home-made fresh almond roca eaten slowly as a game of cards ensues. Vacation is best served with an entree of adventure and sides of leisure. Following dinner, we drive around the corner to Anderson's Park. This mansion hosts a duck pond adorned by a bridge. Green lawns and flowers wrap around the house. A path meanders through thick forest on one side of the house. In the distance, fields house the now common view: sheep. The first really blue sky we've seen yet appears and the sun is almost too bright. Amazing what difference having no pollution can make.
The day comes to a close with a slideshow of Amy and Kimball's honey-moon pictures as well as the pictures we have been unable to control ourselves from taking so far. We are thankful for digital cameras.
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