60% Off

We drifted out of bed around 9AM this morning. I guess it's fair to say that we're over the jet lag and everyone's body clock is ticking as it should. It was a nice bright morning so I went for a run on the beach. My Garmin GPS had immense trouble figuring out where in the world it was, not really a surprise as it's the first time I've used it in this neck of the woods. It eventually locked on to the satellites but it took forever. The tide was in which made running along the beach a pain, since I seemed to be expending huge amounts of energy digging in to the sand and pushing out. I decided the return leg ought to be along Papamoa Beach Road, and this was indeed far easier, if less scenic. I made it back just before the rain started.

The Mirth Mobile's registration document turned up this morning - a nice passive green colour most unlike the garish effort we get back in the UK. Interestingly it claims the last "inspection" was at 207k, a mere 3K before the Mirth Mobile became ours, I guess this means the Warrant of Fitness
and if that's the case, I guess there's not a huge amount wrong with it.

Di was cooking pancakes when I got back, and after scoffing a load we all walked down to the beach. Everyone except stay-at-home Rhiannon would did her usual Nintendo-DS trick and tried to pretend she wasn't part of thebrat pack. We lurked on the beach for about 30 minutes watching the kids build sand castles and also watching some of the local cool young things surfing, with a fair degree of success.

Later in the afternoon, we wandered into Tauranga and visited Briscoes, a home goods type shop which was having an "up to 60% off" sale. I guess this is regular occurrence because some of the prices were rather on the high side. We managed to spend $150 on some pots and pans, a kettle, a toaster, some towels and a laundry basket.

Di decided we ought to wander over to the Rain Bar later in the evening for a couple of beers. This we duly did and it seems Friday night is disco night, or at least they have the volume cranked up. It was a strange mix of AC/DC and Abba, with a little B52s and Village people thrown in. Yeah. There seemed to be loads of women and very few blokes and I watched in wonder as the bouncers cleared the tables away so that the sisters could strut their funky stuff. I went hope feeling sober with a headache, but Di was fist as a part when she walked outside and I had to pour her back in to our apartment.