My initial idea about blog writing while away at my Mum’s was to keep it up. Mum has a new computer which she uses for emails and although she only has a dial up connection, I thought I could manage it.
I was wrong.
Firstly – it is painfully slow to even log on to WordPress, this results in ‘lack of patience meltdown’. Secondly – Ma’s computer would only show half of the New Post text box, so I couldn’t see what I was writing. Thirdly – I had a hideous outbreak of hay fever and could hardly type for the sneezing, sniffing and stuffed up head.
So there you go – they are my excuses for not blogging the last couple of days, and I am sticking to them.
Any way – as I had already drafted a post, I am not going to waste it.
Wednesday – 30 Sept
I am in Wellington.
To be more precise, I am at Pomare station waiting for a train to take me into the city to have lunch with Kate.
It’s cold, so cold I had to borrow a ‘old lady’ coat off my Mum, otherwise I would be freezing my arse off. Wellington is distinctly colder than the heavenly Wairarapa and gets the Southerly harder and quicker.
The first part of this journey through the Hutt Valley has manky scenery – all sullen sky, hills crawling with gorse and scrub and views of industrial backyards, mud pools, dead weeds and graffiti covered concrete. Also loads of sad-looking public housing.
I grew up in Upper Hutt. Back then we lived near the river, bordered by native bush and hills. We treated the area as our own personal playground, swimming in summer, picking mushrooms on the hill flats, riding our bikes up Moonshine hill and exploring the bush tracks, occasionally coming across traces of early settler cottages.
And then – the bush was tidied to oblivion by the council and a motorway was built up the side of the river. The mushroom pastures are covered in a rash of hideous, huge houses built to attract wealthy Asian owners to fugly Hutt Valley. Certainly more fugly after they cut all the trees down.
I digress – back to my train journey.
As usual there is some fuckwit having a loud conversation on a mobile. I have forgotten that it’s the school holidays and the carriage has filled up with kids chattering like birds as the train whines and winds up to speed. I like kids, I like seeing their excitement.
As the train gets closer to the city the scenery gets better. The valley opens up and the sky widens. The beautiful Wellington harbour comes into view and from the train, looks like a huge inland lake. The sea, translucent teal is cutting up rough today. Waves bouncing and smacking white at the rocks, so close that I could spit back and hit it. It is foggy and the huge white ferry in the distance looks like a lump of the city buildings broken off and floating away.
We had reports this morning of a massive earthquake in Samoa and NZ coastal areas have been on alert for a tsunami, some places have even been evacuated. I wonder what it would be like to be sitting here on this train watching a giant wall of water come towards us.
If you don’t hear from me again, you’ll know why.