New Zealand has everything, except people. There is noone here my age,
at all. The entire age group 23 - 35 is just gone, all off working in London (100,000 I
hear). New Zealand looks as if the native population aged normally till about 20, and
20 years (and children) in some overnight catastrophe. (That did happen to some
people I knew, outside the Gorteen House Hotel discotecque in the back seats of
Toyota Corollas late on a Friday night. Not pretty.)
The hot pool in Mount Manganui was the worst example of this. Everywhere I looked I
could see pretty young girls in skimpy bathing costumes, lounging, promenading... and
absolutely every one far too young for me. And instead of this being
the steamy fantasy that you might think, it was my own vision of hell. I stared at my toes
and wondered, where are the grown women for me to
leer google-eyed at, in the appropriate gentlemanly fashion?
Tired of feeling like some kind of grotesque pervert, I stomped off to the changing room,
to wonder where it had all gone wrong.
New Zealand is a beautiful country, but it was time to go. Sydney is
a proper city, with more than two streets, it has an adult population and
the shops open late. I can go to see the Bridge and the Opera House, the only bits
of Australia that I know, and then figure out what else to do, with an entire
continent at my disposal. If the things don't find me first.
What on earth is a blue ringed octopus?