molismagicmemories - goesnambia2018
molismagicmemories - goesnambia2018
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Tag 62: King of the road

Nai-publish: 03.09.2016

30.08.2016


Gudi is not feeling well, as she has been for the past few days. She is wheezing, sneezing, and dripping so much that we have to separate. Of course, I leave her at the hostel while I take the bus to the airport to get away. Being the good person that I am, I change my mind and try to reach our rental company from the airport phone to arrange a shuttle to their car pickup station. This turns out to be a complicated endeavor, as New Zealand phones make different beeping sounds than the devices I'm familiar with. Luckily, everything can be found on the internet. In case anyone ever ends up here: the annoying beeping means wrong number. Resourceful and persistent as I am, I convinced an older lady to lend me her phone and eventually reach someone who informs me of a long wait time. But in the end, I make the best of it and enjoy free wifi in the sun, away from germs. During this time, I fill up my Amazon wishlist so much that if someone ever asks for a birthday gift idea, I will have a wide range of options for the next fifty to one hundred years. I am particularly enamored with a very expensive but hand-operated espresso machine, but that's a story for another time.

After what feels like forever, I am finally taken to the car rental office where I wait for the second half of eternity. Finally, I end up with a lady who speaks just as nasally and unclearly as Gudi. I don't understand much of her grunting, but I decide to stick with my slightly riskier insurance policy anyway.

When I see the car, I think I'm dreaming. Unintentionally, we seem to have rented not just a car but a battleship, for a negligible amount of money. The luxury in these four walls extends over seven meters in length and includes a kitchen, hot water bathroom, heating, and television, among other things. Although I have no idea what we're going to do with it, I already feel like the king of the road.

I skillfully steer the behemoth to Gudi, who greets me with the obligatory tap of her finger on her forehead. At first, she is terribly afraid that the giant will cost us too much gasoline. But after a short time with this people's car, we can exclude this, as it consumes just as much as our hippie campervan, which could fit in our current villa on wheels twice.

Hastily, we drive out of the city and decide to simply head west and stop at the first opportunity at a campground. Unfortunately, the possibility to legally stay overnight doesn't present itself for a very long time, so we only stop after a few hours in complete darkness and in the middle of a cow pasture.

Exhausted and tired, we realize that the germ cannon of the car rental did not provide us with an empty gas bottle and a rented heating unit. Already feeling a bit chilly, we prepare for a cold night. To fall asleep, we tell each other stories from India and try to recall the sweaty, forty-degree days in our memories and primarily also in our limbs.


Gudi's Glorious Laws:


From now on, I pack Matthias' suitcase!


Gudi has written a packing list, which I skillfully ignored because I rarely plan more than a month ahead. Unfortunately, this means that Gudi unpacks ski underwear, jeans, and wool socks in cold New Zealand, while I only have a sweater and sweatpants with me.

Finally, after over three years of relationship, I have the other person to the point that they pack for me - victory is mine!

Sagot