So driving the Pontiac Gran Prix to the North shore was interesting. The car handles like a small yacht and weighs just about the same too, which makes it hard to fight the urge to yell "prepare to tack" every time you go around a corner. It was raining and cold outside and the front windscreen started to fog up so I went in search for a windscreen demister to no avail. Some of levers that looked like fan controls made some awful noises but didn't seem to blow any air anywhere. So I gave the windscreen a quick wipe with my sleeve, put my jacket on, and wound down the window while I headed for the motorway. After about 15min of being terrified that the car didn't actually seem to fit in any of the lanes and I couldn't really see out of it, I decided that everyone else on the road would be doing bloody well to fail to see or hear me coming, so I relaxed a bit and really enjoyed the drive. Thanks very much Grant for letting me borrow her.
I made it to Scotts house in one piece and we commenced the degenerative weekend of drinking rum, eating rubbish food, and playing PS3. I could go on to give you a blow by blow analysis of Resident Evil 5 but I think that would ostracise some of the readers (probably including myself). But I am happy to report that Albert Wesker won't be trying to spread the Ure Buros virus around the world after he copped a couple of rockets to the face. You can thank me later.
So that brings me to the end of New Zealand for a while. I am sitting typing this waiting at the departure gate. It felt pretty weird ticking the box that said "I am moving away permanently" and I guess its finally hitting home that I won't see a lot of people for a while. But I have had a great time in NZ over the past 27 years and it is about time to get out and see some of the big wide world.
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