by On Tuesday we went to my parents’ bach / holiday home / luxury villa in Moeraki, where we’d spend four nights. Mum was in a shitty mood before we left – three hours of angry huffing and puffing and why won’t he agree to sell the bloody place while getting packed up to leave. The Moeraki house is in a beautiful spot which lends itself to relaxation, and when we got there, Mum relaxed immediately. When the car was unpacked, she was soon into the Sudoku. They used to let the place out at weekends, and there are still a few “shoes off” and “10am checkout” signs floating around. They also have a stack of magazines, presumably for those former guests – all House and Garden or a well-produced South Island lifestyle magazine called something like Attitude or Altitude. Amid the recipes and clothing recommendations, the lifestyle magazine was full of interviews with local farmers or businesspeople, and for some reason it was deemed necessary to tell the reader which school each interviewee attended. But, but, she’s forty – how can that still matter? I left my high school in 1996 and by ’97 it was already an irrelevance to me.
That evening we watched the women’s World Cup semi-final between Spain and Sweden which came to life with a flurry of late goals. Spain just shaded it, winning 2-1. My father, not a big follower of sport, has got into this tournament far more than I would have imagined. He isn’t the only one. Obviously it helped that New Zealand were co-hosts, but probably people found the women’s event a nice change from all the overpaid prima donnas and cynical play in the men’s game.
Wednesday was a sunny day, and in the morning we walked to the boulders. Many people believe that Moeraki is the boulders, unaware that a whole village exists beyond them. I remember a succession of trips to the boulders as a kid in 1989-90, and every time it was either wet or the tide was in. This time the tide was out and the weather was glorious. Mum, who was very interested in nature throughout the whole trip, gave a name to a jagged vein, or seam, that must have poked its way into the rocks millions of years ago: the stegosaurus rocks. On the way back Dad pointed out the house of a friend of theirs named Cliff who lived precariously on the hillside, in a severe case of nominative determinism.
When we got home I was able to read for a bit on the deck. I optimistically brought several books with me – I’ll have loads of time, won’t I? – forgetting or just not realising that my parents watch (conservatively) 45 hours of TV a week. The vast majority of that is TV1. Every third ad seems to be for a retirement home; they’re really targeting the i-generation (i standing for incontinence). The bloody Chase is on every night. I don’t mind it, but three times a week would be plenty. Mum, Dad and I are all at roughly the same level. I can handle geography, music (sometimes), sport if it’s the right era, and various random crap that doesn’t fit neatly into any category, but otherwise I’m limited. I’m pretty sure those years of depression have taken their toll on me – during all that barrenness I could hardly take in anything. All three of us are terrible at anything to do with films and TV series. We sit there agog as both contestants and the Chaser spit out in a second the name of the actor who played character X in film Y. They aren’t guessing; they actually know. Anyway, whether it’s the Chase or some appalling $3 million house-keep-or-flip show from Australia, it’s very hard to read a book – or do much else – with the TV on in a doorless, wall-less cavern.
Later on Wednesday afternoon we walked to the lighthouse. We didn’t spot any yellow-eyed penguins unfortunately, but there were at least a dozen seals sunning themselves. We came back via the Maori cemetery and met an interesting man who grew up in Scotland and has spent most of his life in Melbourne, now enjoying travelling around the lower South Island with no particular place to go.
That evening we learnt that Lauren Dickason had been found guilty of murdering her three daughters in Timaru. As Dad said, how can you commit such an act without some measure of insanity? Imagine being a juror on that case after such an appalling tragedy.
After hearing that someone had struck the $37 million Powerball jackpot, we watched the second semi-final which saw England take on Australia in Sydney. The dislike of England, even by New Zealanders when they’re playing Australia, is baffling to me. I was happy to see England beat Australia, comfortably in the end, 3-1.
