|
Page 1 of 4 DUNEDIN
What We Got Up To: Juan's Story
Preamble
I arose early on what promised to be a beautiful day in the northern districts of that most beloved province, Otago. My morning ritual followed the standard that experimentation has proven to best fit the circumstances I find myself in, namely an early cup of tea followed by a refreshing shower. The dog required me to let her off before departing the farm for Dunedin, this was done in a timely, professional fashion such as the dog has come to expect.
A brief layover in the county seat of Oamaru was necessary, as the car needed refuelling and mother had some errands that needed to be seen to. I made contact with Wintersbell to indicate to him that we were presently on our way. The refuelling went off without a hitch, and so we set out on the road to Dunedin.
[At this point the reader might well enquire why I had waited till Oamaru to make contact with Wintersbell, the answer being, of course, that my preferred method of contact, the cellphone, is rendered in-operative in my home environment]
Chapter 1: Juan Gets A Haircut
The road journey to Dunedin was both quick and uneventful, my driving fast yet skilful. On arrival in Dunedin I followed the one-way route into the centre of town, both for speed and to revisit past glories at the campus of Otago University. I found a park on Albany Street, outside the BNZ building, such a location I thought would best suit my initial goals, these being arranging for a haircut, locating a book, and advising Wintersbell of my arrival.
The fine weather in Dunedin encouraged me to leave the car wearing little more than a t-shirt and jeans. This of course meant that I left my customary apparel, that is, my brown jacket in the car with my ipod, which I later had cause to fear for its safety. Luckily the fates smiled on their favourite son, and the casual thieves of Dunedin left my possessions safe for another day.
I made contact with Wintersbell via cellphone, to find that he had encountered the vehicle trouble that has explained in full already. It is probable that we drove past Wintersbell and I do apologise for failing to render assistance.
I arranged with the aforementioned Wintersbell to meet later, around 1pm. I proceeded to the University Book Store, where I sought out the information desk in order to make an enquiry about a book. The book in question is a work of non-fiction, investigating the history of the Royal Navy in the period of 1649-1815. It is part two of a three part series; I will no doubt purchase the first part if I enjoy the second part. On finding the book was available in this country I placed an order, which I am assured will arrive in store this coming week. Meanderson, who consulted on this issue, will no doubt be pleased to hear of its successful conclusion.
[For those of you who wish to learn more about this book, here is a link]
The warm day beckoned with its sultry charms so I left the undoubtedly pleasurable environs of the University Book Store, safe in the knowledge that I would soon return. Albany Street is a street of many virtues, an abundance of hairdressing salons being one of them. After enquiring at a former regular of mine, where I was politely advised of a lack of appointments I repaired to a neighbouring business where I was able to be seen to immediately. This greatly pleased mother who had been campaigning heavily for such an appointment. The haircut itself was a pleasant experience, the girl was pretty and well mannered, her work skilled, the complimentary cup of earl grey refreshing. Twenty minutes later I emerged with an admirably short haircut, thirty-one dollars poorer and up to date on the recent events in Dunedin. I found my mother outside the Rob Roy Dairy, home of the famous milkshake; infrequent visitors to Dunedin should note that its location has moved a block north along George Street. Returning to the car I made contact with Wintersbell and we met outside the Captain Cook Tavern. Wintersbell and myself took leave from mother after suitable pleasantries had been exchanged and set off down to the town, leaving mother in charge of her car.
|
