After a morning of packing, cleaning and tidying, we packed our bags into the dinghy. I was quite wrong, they fit. Though I had to hold on to one bag, belonging to the Gentleman Friend, very expensive and not waterproof, and balanced on the prow. We arrived in Picton and five minutes later we were in our rented house. I think this is the first time that the Gentleman Friend and I have stayed in a house by ourselves, it’s always been a flat at best, or a part of a house. Though it is all on one floor, which feels flat-like, there are gardens fore and aft, and all the dignities of modern living such as a dishwasher and laundry facilities. Even a very large television, but we were unable to make it play Netflix so instead watched a couple of episodes of Veep (can’t say I enjoyed it hugely, though I loved The Thick of It) and a brief foray into the mendacities of Fox News.
It’s an old house, recently renovated though in the usual holiday rental way of least expense. We went to the supermarket and picked up some supplies; unusually I was determined to try out the oven and I got some frozen croissants which come with no instructions whatsoever. It was a delight to take a shower, and I scrubbed and scrubbed. There is an odd screen that stretches across the shower as a sort of shower curtain and at one point it snapped back with a bang, making me jump. I felt like the woman in Psycho. Anyhow, a very tasty dinner made by myself, then tea and bed. It is nice to have a place to oneself. The rest of our time in NZ will be with others.