Too happy in Taihape

This is day one of our adventure to Rotorua, the first family holiday we’ve had in years.

We broke the driving up over two days, which turned out be a good idea, because that's how long it takes when I'm navigating.

But hey, without my navigation we might never have discovered the pleasures of Kimbolton. I didn't think much of it initially, but then I saw the sign that said 'Gateway to Northern Manawatū', and I was like, well played Kimbolton Tourism Board. Well played.

There are good reasons to ask about your motel unit before booking. This is ours, in Taihape, and I haven't been in anything like it since flatting in Dunners - except that none of my Dunners flats had a bed in the lounge. The exterior is rotting, and to be fair, so is the interior. But the piles are rotted. Past tense. House on an angle, but that’s OK. It’s a jaunty angle.

But it's 24 degrees, and I have a glass of wine, and above all else - after everything this last two years has thrown at all of us - me and mine are safe. Countless others would wish to change places. And damn it, I’m kinda happy, for the first time in a while.

So I'm going to laugh at myself, fight the kids for the least bad motel bed, and raise my glass.

PS. The poltergeist in the unit was free of charge, so I can't complain.

PPS. Before you growl me for being cheeky about small towns, remember I grew up in a place called Mabel Bush in rural Southland. It made me what I am today, and I’ll just leave it there.