Autocorrect keeps wanting me to say “Smells Beach” which is funny in a childish way.
Embarrassed to discover I’d accidentally booked us into a mock Tudor hotel with no view at all of the beach, however if I remember rightly from my childhood, the tide is always out at Snells Beach, so that’s no great loss. My parents had a lovely section overlooking the beach when I was a child, but the only structure on it was a decrepit old caravan, so we were never that enthusiastic about coming here. Now the entire area is covered in multimillion dollar homes for retired boomers. I think my parents sold their section some decades ago at a loss.
Simon and I have got into a routine now where he asks me last thing at night what time he should set his alarm for. It doesn’t matter what I say, or the reasoning behind it: he always sets it for 8. But it gives me the illusion of choice.
When the alarm goes off, after one snooze cycle he gets up and goes for a run, while I have a coffee or two and catch up with world events (coronavirus, Trump). When he gets back all sweaty and gross, he has the first shower and then tells me about any quirks in the bathroom plumbing that he’s had to learn the hard way. I then have a shower and am dressed and ready on the dot of ten minutes after we’re meant to check out.
Heading down south after this to Taupo. I’ve been living in shorts and sandals the last fortnight so long pants is going to be a shock. In fact I have tan lines on my feet from the sandals. I’d show you the photos but my feet are not my best feature so you’ll just have to imagine it.