Sunday in New Zealand

A Sunday in New Zealand. How does that sound? Well, I find that strangely, for many people, it's a day of routines.

This is of course not only a New Zealand observation... When I still lived with my parents (more than 7 years ago), we used to have a big breakfast, which was more like a brunch.

Meat, bread, orange juice, jam, cheese and two sunday newspapers. While my mum and dad preferred the one that's read by the masses, I preferred the more upmarket newspaper.

It had just the right mix of political news, serious business matters, a good fashion and lifestyle section, a bit of sports and a nice travel articles. It was the newspaper for the "discerning reader"...:)

In New Zealand, my Sunday used to start quite similarly...miles and miles away from my family, I did much the same, with the boyfriend as an ersatz-family.

For nearly a year, I had to drive him to work on Sundays towards lunch time. I dropped him off at the mall (see, everything revolves around these bloody things) and went about my own business.

I had two phases. One was the active outdoors phase. In summer, when the temperatures are solidly hovering around 15C during the day, sometimes going as high as 30, sometimes as low as 10 degrees, I picked up my bike, put it into the boot of my car and drove out to the countryside.

I had a love-hate relationship with my car at the time. A green Saab 900 made in 1994, it was a beautfiul, elegant, edgy and sublimely comfortable. But, it was not very reliable. I spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars on new parts until I got scared that it might one day simple die on me. I sold it.

When I didnt drive out to the countryside, I 'd head straight to the supermarket and, since I was hungry, bought tons of cheese, bread, spreads, olives and so on.

And...the Sunday newspaper. Here in New Zealand, it's called the "Sunday Star Times", and isnt exactly what you'd call "quality journalism". Still, it was entertaining, and came with a little magazine called "sunday".

On a sunny sunday, I'd lie down on the bed in my sun-drenched room, eat my breads, spreads and olives and read "sunday".

Fast forward two years.

Today, I got up early. Well, I heard an sms and jumped up. I realised quickly that I'd slept through my 8.30am date with my friend to take him to the airport.

I put on any clothes I could see (no matchy-matchy, kawadjan;), looked into the mirror (I actually looked rather ok) and ran out. I did not even put on my anti-wrinkle cream though...

My friend, who is from Peru and has a Jewish-Polish mum, who lived in Spain, was flying up to Auckland for two days.

He asked me to take care of his car for the time and I was thrilled at his suggestion. You see, in Christchurch, living without a car is like living in a wheelchair.

You can do most things, but it's horribly inconvenient to get around.

In the back of the car was his "friend". (I think his fuckbuddy or semi-gf or something though) She didnt speak English, so I had to resort to other languages.

A few minutes later, I was driving a car...I hadnt done that in months!

A cute little Toyota Celica. I remember how rougly 18 years ago, mum, dad and me (I was a cute little boy with long, straight blond hair and big cheeks!) drove to Italy for our first holiday - in a red Toyota Celica!


The super-celica. Isnt that a beauty? Ours was red though...

I headed to the supermarket and bought - the sunday newspaper!


Today's Sunday Star Times

What did I find in there? The usual boring silly bits, and as a compensation a few funny and scarily opinionated editorials.

One guy who keeps writing for the newspaper is a middle-aged ex-Member of Parliament cum Mayor of a smalltown cum radio broadcaster cum writer. (for the interested, google "michael laws")

He's notoriously big-mouthed and always writes about sex. I dont know why a politician can seriously write a half-a-page about sex every sunday. This weekend, he said that women prefer "old gentlemen" to "mummy's boys".

He is neither, so I dont know where he fits. Up to you...

Another column was more interesting. The woman wrote about the New Zealand Prime Minister, who is notoriously (a bit too) chummy with important people.

Apparently, he said to the Tongan King that his english is probably much better than his own. From a reliable source, I also know that the Prime Minister, upon being asked a question while having dinner with the King of Spain started his reply with: "Well, King, .....".

Hahahaha, that has to be too much.


NZ Prime Minister John Key.

There was also gay content in the newspaper. By the way: I am sorry I cant report on any gay things here, such as flirts, observations, good-looking men etc...such things are extremely rare here...

A columnist wrote in all seriosity that women's sports should not be taken seriously, is only for lesbians and is just watched by men because they are horny creatures.

Well, I have never had these feelings, but I still think it's a handful to write such things in a mainstream newspaper...

Readers might be more interested in the rugby-section though. Next weekend, the All Blacks are playing the Wallabies of Australia. Everyone is gearing up.

The capitain of the All Blacks, Richie McCaw, himself quite a handsome man, has returned from an injury. Here, you can see him celebrate a victory with his friends.


Richie McCaw in the middle

I hope many Thais read this, and will never ever call me "fat anymore". Compared to the fella on the left, I loook as slim as a gazelle on a diet!

And now, before I go back to reading "sunday" magazine, look at the advertisement below. I think it's funny.