I was up at 8.30 this morning and had breakfast, motoring off into Nelson for a bit more of a look around and a lengthy sojourn at Starbucks on Trafalgar Street, uploading my latest blog instalment and checking my email etc on their wireless internet service. As I undertook this sophisticated, high-tech activity, I had a flat white from an American-sized porcelain bucket and looked out at the fascinating pedestrian traffic on Nelson's main drag like the 21st century tourist from the Big Smoke which I is. Then I drove back out to Richmond to meet Debbie, Nikki, Kirsty, Tyreece and Brooklyn in the Richmond Mall for lunch. We had a chat about this and that while all of us engaged in the occasion's main activity of chasing down Tyreece, as the little scamp made a bolt for freedom whenever he thought no one was looking. Each time he was duly plunked back in his chair, and occasionally imprisoned in his harness in his stroller screaming and kicking, until he swore on the scriptures and the relics of every saint in existence never to leave his seat again. Which lasted sometimes as long as two minutes before his next great escape. And people think teenagers are hard work! After lunch we went to the $2 shop (hey big spender!) and while the girls went into some girly dress shop I wheeled Tyreece off in his stroller for a ride on the revolting, sorry, REVOLVING horse thingy further up the mall.
That excitement lasted several revolutions before he spotted the games arcade nearby and he could barely wait for the ride to end before making a dash for the arcade. Tyreece had found heaven! He bolted from the toy dispensing machines (no Tyreece, banging the glass does NOT deliver a toy) to the video games to the car racer game to the pistol shooting game to the table soccer, and repeated the circuit several times at increasing pace. But all good things must come to an end, the girls arrived after their shopping break and Tyreece was returned to his stroller with even more kicking and screaming. I foolishly made arrangements to see Kirsty and her troublesome offspring again on Wednesday and made my own escape, heading back to Mum's for some Monday afternoon laziness. I read my Listener I had purchased earlier and played on my netbook, then later in the afternoon drove down Queen Street to the actual genuine men's barber with a swirly barber pole outside and a huge antique barber's chair in front of an even huger antique mirror. There were a few blokes waiting, and one of them, to my surprise, was Chris's mate Preston. We started chatting, the other blokes and the barber joined in and in no time we were like a bunch of old yokels in one of those American barbershop movie scenes, talking bloke talk and being racist, sexist and fascist in roughly equal amounts. Eventually it was my turn in the chair for my number one haircut ($10 – bargain!) and afterwards I went back to Mum's. I booked in my sauna, spa and Rejuventing Facial For Men on Thursday in Nelson and wandered up to the corner shop – resisting the seductive lure of the Sprig and Fern with admirable fortitude -- for the Nelson Evening Mail. About 20 pages worth of unmissable local news in big, friendly type. Circulation: 18,000. Then it was time for Mum's big Asian Surprise of gluggy, sweet mince, noodles and veges. Delicious! It was strawberries and ice cream again for dessert (sorry, PUDDING) and then I waddled over to the TV for the news and the quaint local current affairs program. I spent a quiet, relaxing night at home reading the Nelson Evening Mail, working on the Lousy Tale and other writing, and playing with my netbook until bedtime. I discovered an interesting fact today in my tourist brochures that I know you want me to share with you: the population of Nelson City is some 40,000 persons and the population of Tasman (ie the rest of the province, including the towns of Richmond, Motueka, Wakefield, Collingwood etc) is 44,000. How about that? A rare instance where the rural population outnumbers the urban population.
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