New Plymouth

Once we made it into the city we ran into a family that had seen us yesterday descending Mt. Messenger. They had rolled down the windows and loudly cheered us on. There was a mother, father and three older teenage children. The family was in town for the big Fleetwood mac concert here. Everyone has turned up for this it seems; the city is teeming with visitors. So this family walks up and we start talking about biking. They ask us if our asses hurt and then the mom grabs a big fistfull of Shad's butt and exclaims how tight it is! It was hilarious. I think Shad kind of enjoyed it. He was glowing about it for a good half hour afterwards.

We tracked down our host Kim and headed over to her place. It was a big house full of girls, and I think everyone was sharing a bed with someone else except for me and Shad. She told us 10 people would be staying there tonight, including us, her, her sisters, their boyfriends, and some other friends of hers.

We unloaded our gear and had a beer and a shower. Then Kim took us on a driving tour of New Plymouth. Even though it was kind of a cold grey day, the views of the beach and the sea were still impressive. Shad fell asleep almost immediately in the back seat. When we got back to the house we had a bit of time to relax as Kim got ready to go out. She was taking us to a "Christmas" party her friends were throwing, complete with backyard cricket and homemade sangria.

Kim's friends were great. This was my second ever experience with playing cricket, and I have to admit I kind of enjoyed it. The first time I played it was a bit odd and boring. This time was much better, more laid back... better house rules... something, it was just better. Much partying ensued and I got more than a little drunk. I somehow received the nickname "Nestle" due to my persistence that it was one of the most powerful corporations in the world. Then we went out on the town, barhopping to three different places. Shad was dubbed "Droppy" since at one point in inexplicably dropped an entire beer on the floor. The last of these bars was a Celtic bar that didn't know what an Irish Car Bomb was, ridiculous. Downtown was a madhouse with everyone from the Fleetwood Mac concert. By the end of the night around 2 or 3 we were much ready for some good sleep.

written by  aeonhunterinnz on December 19, 2009 from New Plymouth, New Zealand
from the travel blog: AeonHunter in New Zealand
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