Wolves
Despite still having a horrendous cold (every time I blow my nose, I am reminded of the hallway scene from 'The Shining,' where the lift doors open, and… well just like that. But with snot), I went for a walk. The Twin Spectres of Cheese and Pastry haunt me (A typical European breakfast seems to embrace anything with fat and no nutritional content), so walk I must, despite the horror movie nose. Ignorance is bliss, so I haven’t weighed myself since my return. My clothes actually feel looser, but I am sure this is not possible, and that they are just playing a cruel trick on me.
It is raining, but, unusually, it’s not windy. Almost without exception, rain in Auckland is accompanied by a howling gale, the sort that makes umbrella use an exercise in futility. My Lulu Guinness umbrella wouldn’t last a minute, it’s designed for a genteel English shower, not the rude New Zealand hurricanes that defy attempts at style (about a month ago, one such storm blew a shoe off my foot – mid-step! – and I had to chase it down Williamson Ave in an entirely inelegant manner. This is probably why European women always look chic; they don’t have to cope with the kind of weather that rips shoes from feet, and makes one’s mascara run because they had to walk in the rain due to their umbrella being disembowelled).
Sorry. Obviously not well. Sentences very long, a whole paragraph about the weather, and I can’t be bothered changing any of it.
Anyway. I went for a walk.
“Good morning,” someone called out.
I look around. There are three people sitting on the verandah of a stylishly appointed villa. Two girls, and a wolf. Human body, with a large, wolf’s head. I don’t have my contacts in, but I squint a little, and look away, quickly. A wolf.
“Good morning,” I call back.
I hear laughter.
The new coat I bought in Rotterdam was much admired. In fact, someone was so in awe of it, they burned a cigarette hole in the back. Nothing says “you look great,” like an anonymous act of deliberate destruction.
Auckland is way too hard for me at the moment. I think I will stay in bed today.
5 comments:
"Almost without exception, rain in Auckland is accompanied by a howling gale, the sort that makes umbrella use an exercise in futility."
"I knew it! All that talk about WIndy Wellington from Aucklanders, it's a jyp!
Sentences very long, a whole paragraph about the weather,"
Very Dickensian.
Mrs Smith - it wouldn't surprise me if you lost weight in Europe. My wife and I experienced it last year and although their foods are high in fat due to all the cheese and chocolate (as you point out) it is the portion size that is important. Unlike NZ which is influenced heavily by the US concept of portion sizes, Europe actually has meals with a size you can enjoy.
Dickensian. How marvellously literary I am, without even trying. Hurrah!
MarcusD; Yes, I agree wholeheardedly. Europeans desire quality and not necessarily quantity, while most NZers ignore the former in favour of the latter.
Plus MarcusD and his wife would have been shagging their brains out the whole way.
I have proof, I bought their second hand bed off them in the Caribbean. It was well worn.
"The new coat I bought in Rotterdam was much admired. In fact, someone was so in awe of it, they burned a cigarette hole in the back. Nothing says “you look great,” like an anonymous act of deliberate destruction."
I'm sorry, I know that's an awful thing to happen but this did make me really laugh. Well written, nice blog :)
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