Going...
Going...
Gone!
A vision of the future?My third plane of the day landed in Auckland at gone midnight. I made the 12 mile trip to the city centre by bus and walked wearily to the large hotel where I was to spend my first two nights in New Zealand. Checking in at reception I suddenly heard a familiar voice call my name from across the lobby.
I met Pete in 1991 when we were both working as police trainers. He was very supportive during my divorce and over the years we have embarked on a number of ‘Boy’s weekends’. Our trips have covered England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. We even squeezed in stays in Paris and Bruges.
It was a long held ambition of Pete’s to travel to New Zealand but his wife refused to undertake the long haul journey. When I announced that I was intending to visit the land of the long white cloud Pete immediately said he wanted to come too. I doubted that he would join me as I knew he would feel guilty about leaving Dianne, behind. But Di had not been married to Pete for over 30 years without knowing that being without her husband for three weeks was better than years of regret at a missed opportunity. And so it was that we came to be sharing yet another hotel room on our biggest adventure ever.
To my shame, sharing a room with Pete is always a difficult experience for me. It’s all about how it is perceived by others. Although Pete and I are both tall, burly chaps, it is fair to say that we both have a feminine side that seems to come to the fore when we are together. We make a very convincing gay couple. Once when attempting to book a twin room in Paris we were met with a resounding: ‘Mais, non!’ by the homophobic receptionist and forced to accept two single rooms to avoid us sullying the establishment.
I am so paranoid about being perceived as Pete’s lover that I protest my heterosexuality loudly to anyone willing to listen. When Pete and I emerge for breakfast together I usually manage to talk loudly about how many children I’ve got as a way of suggesting that I am as straight as they come. I even asked a very nice family that Pete and I met at a race meeting if they thought we were gay. ‘God, yes,’ came the resounding reply. ‘Especially you.’ In the modern age I am sure no one gives a fig about my sexuality, but that doesn’t stop me getting very self-conscious about the issue.
Pete, having arrived direct from London early that morning, had made the fatal mistake of falling asleep in the afternoon and was now wide awake. The luxury of our room with its two queen sized beds was a huge contrast to what I had been used to in Australia. Despite the lateness of the hour, Pete broke out a few bottles of beer and we caught up with each other. Pete could hardly contain his excitement about being in New Zealand and embarking on his dream trip. After the indulgence of solo travel it was an excitement that was to become a little bit irritating at times.
Next morning we were up early to make the most of our one day together in Auckland. We dined alfresco at a lovely cafe just down from the hotel and then made our way on foot to the city centre. We didn’t need to follow the map as the structure we were heading for is the tallest man-made feature in New Zealand. The Sky Tower is over a thousand feet tall (328 metres to be precise) and on a clear day it affords views of 50 miles in all directions. For me, the most interesting aspect of the tower was watching the brave individuals outside who had paid £100 to jump off the building.
Dressed in fetching all-in-one suits, the jumpers venture out onto a platform 600 feet high. Painted onto the concrete below is a very handy red and white bull’s-eye target. Securely attached to a harness they then swing out below a gantry and wave at the astonished onlookers inside the tower. Then, whoosh, off they go, falling at 50 miles per hour to the plaza below. The trip takes 11 seconds.
Pete suffers dreadfully from vertigo so a Sky Jump was definitely not on his list of things to do in Auckland. In fact, I was quite surprised that he even wanted to go up the tower at all. Seeing people in jump suits falling to the ground brought back bad memories of my parachuting experience, so I too chose to take the lift down instead.
Auckland has a natural harbour called Waitemata. It is sheltered from the Pacific Ocean by two islands, Rangitoto and Waiheke. Pete had already made the short journey across to Rangitoto whilst waiting for me to arrive the previous day so we decided to take the one hour ferry ride out to Waiheke.
The island was beautiful and it is hard to imagine something so sublime as close to a city. Not surprisingly a number of people lived on the island and used the ferry service to commute to jobs in Auckland. The countryside would have appeared very English was it not for the odd vineyard dotted around the coast. It was like the English Lake District only next to a clear sea and given a temperate climate. In fact, with any luck, if sea levels continue to rise and global warming continues then this is exactly what the English countryside will look like in just a few years. So scrap those useless energy saving bulbs, get burning the fossil fuels and break out the Oakleys and Factor 30.
Pete is an avid birdwatcher and despite my complete lack of interest in most of the little feathered sods he insists on pointing them out to me on every trip we undertake. The New World meant whole swathes of new species for Pete to study through his binoculars. His ornithological juices were overflowing. Add to that the fact that he was in the land of his dreams, where everything was to be wondered at, and Pete was definitely in a constant and animated frenzy of ecstasy.
I spent the evening before I embarked for Australia in the company of a very lovely lady whose company I had desired for a while. I had spent five months, ever since I came back from Africa, trying to win her over but as ever, the course of true love was littered with obstacles. The obstacle in this case was a rather beefy ex-boyfriend who didn’t agree on the ‘ex’ bit. Despite her ‘I can’t wait for you to get back’ assurances, I had my doubts and embarked on my trip like a sailor going to sea, not sure what I would be coming home to.
I had not discussed my concerns with anyone, but now, with my long time friend and confidante, Pete, by my side I had the opportunity to unburden myself. As we meandered along the Waiheke coastal path and a country lane beset on both sides by lush vineyards I opened up to my good buddy. I told him of all the ins and outs and ups and downs of my frustrating, yet potentially life changing courtship. After twenty minutes I drew to a breathless halt and said:
‘So, what do you think I should do?’
‘Wow! Look at that rock,’ said Pete.
I met Pete in 1991 when we were both working as police trainers. He was very supportive during my divorce and over the years we have embarked on a number of ‘Boy’s weekends’. Our trips have covered England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. We even squeezed in stays in Paris and Bruges.
It was a long held ambition of Pete’s to travel to New Zealand but his wife refused to undertake the long haul journey. When I announced that I was intending to visit the land of the long white cloud Pete immediately said he wanted to come too. I doubted that he would join me as I knew he would feel guilty about leaving Dianne, behind. But Di had not been married to Pete for over 30 years without knowing that being without her husband for three weeks was better than years of regret at a missed opportunity. And so it was that we came to be sharing yet another hotel room on our biggest adventure ever.
To my shame, sharing a room with Pete is always a difficult experience for me. It’s all about how it is perceived by others. Although Pete and I are both tall, burly chaps, it is fair to say that we both have a feminine side that seems to come to the fore when we are together. We make a very convincing gay couple. Once when attempting to book a twin room in Paris we were met with a resounding: ‘Mais, non!’ by the homophobic receptionist and forced to accept two single rooms to avoid us sullying the establishment.
I am so paranoid about being perceived as Pete’s lover that I protest my heterosexuality loudly to anyone willing to listen. When Pete and I emerge for breakfast together I usually manage to talk loudly about how many children I’ve got as a way of suggesting that I am as straight as they come. I even asked a very nice family that Pete and I met at a race meeting if they thought we were gay. ‘God, yes,’ came the resounding reply. ‘Especially you.’ In the modern age I am sure no one gives a fig about my sexuality, but that doesn’t stop me getting very self-conscious about the issue.
Pete, having arrived direct from London early that morning, had made the fatal mistake of falling asleep in the afternoon and was now wide awake. The luxury of our room with its two queen sized beds was a huge contrast to what I had been used to in Australia. Despite the lateness of the hour, Pete broke out a few bottles of beer and we caught up with each other. Pete could hardly contain his excitement about being in New Zealand and embarking on his dream trip. After the indulgence of solo travel it was an excitement that was to become a little bit irritating at times.
Next morning we were up early to make the most of our one day together in Auckland. We dined alfresco at a lovely cafe just down from the hotel and then made our way on foot to the city centre. We didn’t need to follow the map as the structure we were heading for is the tallest man-made feature in New Zealand. The Sky Tower is over a thousand feet tall (328 metres to be precise) and on a clear day it affords views of 50 miles in all directions. For me, the most interesting aspect of the tower was watching the brave individuals outside who had paid £100 to jump off the building.
Dressed in fetching all-in-one suits, the jumpers venture out onto a platform 600 feet high. Painted onto the concrete below is a very handy red and white bull’s-eye target. Securely attached to a harness they then swing out below a gantry and wave at the astonished onlookers inside the tower. Then, whoosh, off they go, falling at 50 miles per hour to the plaza below. The trip takes 11 seconds.
Pete suffers dreadfully from vertigo so a Sky Jump was definitely not on his list of things to do in Auckland. In fact, I was quite surprised that he even wanted to go up the tower at all. Seeing people in jump suits falling to the ground brought back bad memories of my parachuting experience, so I too chose to take the lift down instead.
Auckland has a natural harbour called Waitemata. It is sheltered from the Pacific Ocean by two islands, Rangitoto and Waiheke. Pete had already made the short journey across to Rangitoto whilst waiting for me to arrive the previous day so we decided to take the one hour ferry ride out to Waiheke.
The island was beautiful and it is hard to imagine something so sublime as close to a city. Not surprisingly a number of people lived on the island and used the ferry service to commute to jobs in Auckland. The countryside would have appeared very English was it not for the odd vineyard dotted around the coast. It was like the English Lake District only next to a clear sea and given a temperate climate. In fact, with any luck, if sea levels continue to rise and global warming continues then this is exactly what the English countryside will look like in just a few years. So scrap those useless energy saving bulbs, get burning the fossil fuels and break out the Oakleys and Factor 30.
Pete is an avid birdwatcher and despite my complete lack of interest in most of the little feathered sods he insists on pointing them out to me on every trip we undertake. The New World meant whole swathes of new species for Pete to study through his binoculars. His ornithological juices were overflowing. Add to that the fact that he was in the land of his dreams, where everything was to be wondered at, and Pete was definitely in a constant and animated frenzy of ecstasy.
I spent the evening before I embarked for Australia in the company of a very lovely lady whose company I had desired for a while. I had spent five months, ever since I came back from Africa, trying to win her over but as ever, the course of true love was littered with obstacles. The obstacle in this case was a rather beefy ex-boyfriend who didn’t agree on the ‘ex’ bit. Despite her ‘I can’t wait for you to get back’ assurances, I had my doubts and embarked on my trip like a sailor going to sea, not sure what I would be coming home to.
I had not discussed my concerns with anyone, but now, with my long time friend and confidante, Pete, by my side I had the opportunity to unburden myself. As we meandered along the Waiheke coastal path and a country lane beset on both sides by lush vineyards I opened up to my good buddy. I told him of all the ins and outs and ups and downs of my frustrating, yet potentially life changing courtship. After twenty minutes I drew to a breathless halt and said:
‘So, what do you think I should do?’
‘Wow! Look at that rock,’ said Pete.
Does anyone on here plan gap years for older guys I am interested for 2014 ???
ReplyDeletecharlesworth100@yahoo.com
Eugene