The Sailors

Another sunny weekend! The city is still freshly preened for yesterday’s Valentine’s day.

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Betty and the husband person had a quiet lunch at the Wynyard Quarter.

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Food truck pizza, 1. Rubbish disposable shoes, 0.

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Mochi, as always, makes up for it.

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Then, beside the bridge that folds up, a little crowd gathered to watch a French circus duo perform their original show.

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The pre-show was a group of little fishies – and a splashy wee boy, whose identity I will protect.

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The show itself was called The Sailors – a very French caper inspired by silent movies, in which the duo performed hilariously on the beams, and dizzyingly on the rigging of their own sailboat.

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Punch and Judy have nothing on the French.

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They’re called Voiliers Spectacle, and not to be missed. Betty is keen to see their other show, Between Wing and Island, when they sail back in April.

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Waitangi adventures

Public holidays this year are a dime a dozen. This week, Waitangi Day.

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The weather was glorious – apparently it was horrendously windy early in the morning, but as Betty was sleeping in it really didn’t matter, you see?

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Betty and the husband person hopped on the bus and moseyed at a snail’s pace to Devonport. It would be quicker to cycle, except that Hanna, Betty’s genteel omafiets, has a puncture, the poor sausage. Once it’s fixed, there will definitely be a post giving a proper introduction.

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    Devonport was lovely, as usual.

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    I mean, more or less…

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    They really take the alternative transport idea to a whole new level.

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    But, not having easy access to a bike, a cruise liner, or a naval submarine, Betty and the HP took the ferry instead. It’s a short trip, but exceedingly pleasant.

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    The ferry building is one of Betty’s very favourite spots. This will be the last full day off for a wee while, sadly, but life promises to be pretty adventurous anyway – circus classes start again this week, there are exciting guest teachers at the studio, Betty’s university course is coming up fast (this time with twice the Charcot and more Richard Selzer, heaven help us), and the work party of the year is only weeks away. Onward and upward!

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Naval adventures

The plan for this particular adventure was to end up in the city, but the bus’s battery light came on at Victoria Park, proving once and for all that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. Shank’s pony to the Viaduct.

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Betty and the husband person had a glorious afternoon watching this ship – a rather ad hoc arrangement of mismatched uniforms and leaky hoses, but fun nonetheless.

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It’s difficult to top the Viaduct, quite frankly.

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And afterwards, there was a wander through Unity Books. Betty discovered Ready Player One there, and is halfway through it (a quarter of the price on Kindle, though, with apologies to a very fine bookshop). It’s quite corking. Has anyone?

Swings and roundabouts

The reason for Betty’s day off today was a Skinner Releasing workshop with low-flying trapeze in Titirangi, which looks like this:

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But when Betty got there, she found that it had been cancelled at the last minute due to low enrollments. Is it not always the way?

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It was gravely disappointing, but it was either off the cliffs or onward and upward, so Betty headed back into the city. It’s quite a long way. There is a train, which is much more picturesque than the bus, but it turns out the trains are off this weekend. See Life, above.

Fortunately, during the bus ride Betty had a brainwave, and remembered she could drop in to the dance studio, which looks like this:

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… and she did the Charleston for an hour, which is a wonderful thing to do when you’re feeling a bit stabby.

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Then she met the husband person and had a lovely walk along the viaduct, learning some interesting facts, and breathing the salt air.

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And on the way home they went into the fish market for the first time – not something that usually appeals to Betty’s vegetarian sensibilities, but it turns out to be quite corking.

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So there you go. When you lose on the gee-gees, make lemonade, as they say.

Sunday best

Betty and the husband person caught the bus into town on Sunday. It was awfully nice. First off, Betty wore a funny hat – always a liberating experience. A young and honest friend at church greeted her with an enthusiastic, “You’re a baker!”

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Afterwards, B and HP walked around the viaduct, and then sat for a while on the seats at the end of Queen’s Wharf. At least I think so. The one with the Cloud on it.

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The tall building at twelve o’clock is practically Betty’s home. Or work, at least. Then the duo wandered through Britomart, made the obligatory duck into Lululemon (the husband person likes the reassurance of being asked if he understands the sizing) and Coucou and Made, and then went to Victoria Park for the next bus.

Betty returned home with tingly feet, salty lungs, a sample of Christopher Brosius’s Russian caravan tea on her left wrist and Jo Malone plum blossom on her right (both very nice), slightly muddy toes, and a hungry tummy. And she napped excellently. And behold, it was very good.

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