Jerry Flay shares his tongue-in-cheek daydream of a perfect Waiheke day.
As I listened to the melodic tones of Lou Reed this morning, crafting his way through Perfect day, I perchanced to dream.
A dream of a Waiheke united, where old scars had healed, where no conflict remained unresolved.
A day in which I rose from my bed, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
A hearty breakfast at the excellent Solar Cafe where Hans and I wrestled over the issues of the hour. Heterosexuality should be illegal, he opined in this thoughtful yet forthright manner, and such was the weight of his logic I felt compelled to agree.
Then a stroll along Oneroa beach, hand in hand with Els, the scent of spring warm on the air, heady, intoxicating, no love so young as that of the old.
Later a visit to Cap’n Frankie at the Matiatia marina to look over her beautiful new yacht, Queen of Snappers.
On my way there I nodded amicably at that loveable old seadog Rick, as he lay sprawled and insensible amongst the fishing nets after a hard morning on the Vino Anonimo.
Lunch was a more upbeat affair altogether, a working repast with Paul and his team of architects as we mulled over the styles of the villas we were planning to build, all with a golf course view.
After a refreshing swim and a daredevil plunge down the high slide at the newly opened Barbieworld waterpark, I felt peckish and decided to check out a hot tip I had been given.
Sadly KP's Delicious Donut Cart, the latest Oneroa pop up eatery, was out of stock and had closed early.
Disappointed, I consoled myself with a quick whisky in the delightful company of Marshall. We chatted about the weekend's rugby results, although it has to be said his technical understanding of the game leaves me for dead.
A phone call from Shirin asking my advice on the best way of spelling sustainability continued my emotional recovery, and thus it was in high spirits that I proceeded to my VIP seat at the stoning of Faye Storer. I bought a $10 bag of gravel from young Dan, resplendent in his new prefects cap, who was manning the gate. We chatted for a few moments about school and he shyly showed me his latest report, which it has to be said was outstanding.
Then it was time for pre dinner drinks at the RSA with John and Denise. We went tenners in on a Pokie syndicate, and John won the jackpot as usual, the lucky devil.
Then on the Malones for a pot of Irish stew and the regular catch up with Simon. His tales of mowing lawns really are priceless, and we chuckled our way through a few pints as well, joined by Kevin who had a few stories of his own to keep us amused about the impact of chronic dyslexia on drug prescription.
Reluctant as I was to miss Merran pole dancing, I had to leave early in order to help Susi paint the banners for tomorrow's protest march against Tomorrows. After we shared a bottle of grappa and dreamed of what might have been as the flickering embers of the fire set the seal on what was indeed a perfect day.
Yes, indeed a perfect day, and I thought of all the chums I had seen and thought, I'm glad I spent it with you.
Day's like that are few and far between. In fact, they occur only once a year, usually in early April, more’s the pity!
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