I know I say this at the risk of being stoned for being a nature philistine. But sometimes…. just sometimes you want to you want to be crooned to, not by a cackling Saddleback but the rich melodies of your ipod contents. Especially when I’m cycling to work down the ridge track, a long never ending dirt road down the spine of the island, a good tune makes the long ride whizz by. (Well until you get distracted, hit a patch of gravel and get thrown across the path, ipod, earphones and all. Bike helmets, seriously. Wear one.)
It’s a Monday here, so there are no tourists tramping around, which is good, because I’m sure I also wouldn’t like the sight of me bouncing down my trails to Daft Punk (a rather bizarre juxtaposition of wilderness and electronic music but works exceedingly well). Crackin’ playlist does wonders. Cheers Crystal. If anyone of you are bored, feel free to mail down a mixed tape/CD.
Nikki is back on the island together with new volunteers. An Auckland fella, and a Japanese girl who I haven’t said a word to yet. I asked Will what her name was. “It sounds like a sneeze.” I’m not sure what sort of musical nose Will has, because her name was Hina. Hrmph. Definitely nice having Nikki back, can always count on her running commentary of random trivia during the rugby quarter finals. Go All Blacks… and her instant noodle flavour of the week. Beef.
Nikki: So my band wanted to play at this bar, but our keyboardist refused, because the waitresses were girls dressed in bikinis and men just leered at them. But we still wanted to play, you know. To be ironic.
Rain’s pouring down now, stretch of sun shiny days are gone. Sigh. Will’s off to make tea after proselytising about the joys of usng a clap-trap to catch his robins. Personally I think he likes the-clap traps so much because he’s definitely one himself. Take that any way you want.
Photo of a North Island Robin. Cutie pies.