Weekend

[ickaimp]

12 May 2006
-Hotels-

I love New Zealand hotels.

The second question they ask? "Do you want whole milk or skim milk?"

-the first question being if you want the room for the night.

Tea is so in ingrained to the New Zealand culture that every hotel room you go into has an electric jug with a choice of coffee or tea, sometimes hot cocoa, sugar and they give you the milk at the front desk. Or sometimes you end up with a lot of little half-and-half looking containers, but usually you get about a quarter litre of milk. (um... 300 mils, so about the same amount that's in a soda can)

But the thing I really love about NZ hotels? It's kind of like staying at the guest-house of a friend. -It's just that the friend happens to have five, ten... guest-houses. Quite frequently, it's like your own little house. Most of them have an oven, as well as a fridge and an assortment of plates, cups, silverware and cookware.

The place we're staying has a heating system in the floor. The Floor. Heat rises. It's waaaaaarm. *purrs*

+++

St. Kessog had a great first feast yesterday. The food may not have been as fancy as some of the other recent feasts, but it was good food, served without any long pauses and in good company.
And really, that accounts for more than the fanciest food in the world.

Also learned how to do some one-handed juggling. ^^;; I'll get the hang of it sooner or later.

Had a good nap under a pile of pillows until someone jumped on me. *sighs* That'll teach me to hide myself... *chuckles* Think it scared her more than it did me. *laughs*



So, we spent the night down in Dunedin last night, a SCA member put us up for the night.

Samefully, the first thing I noticed about the house was not the great view out the windows of the harbour, but that it smelt like poo. Evidently the house we were staying at had two cats. One of them who supposedly has a problem realising what is the catbox. But by that time, was so tired, I didn't care, I fell over and slept until David woke up.

House didn't smell -quite- so much like poo when I woke up.

We were supposed to meet everyone for a BBQ party in the morning, but we got word that they were expecting rain/snow/sleet and that the pass may be closed, so we ended up leaving the house early to make it through the pass before it closed.

... and I noticed that the car kinda smelled like poo....

Thought it might be my nose, didn't worry about it, thought about other things as we headed out.

We stopped about an hour down the road for breakfast in Waikouaiti, by which time the car didn't quite smell so much of poo to me. And we hadn't eaten yet, so stomach was ruling the mind.

We have breakfast at a nice cafe, I had a 'tradtional' English breakfast (eggs, fried tomatos, toast and hash browns) for the first time, found that fried tomatos are good and we went back to the car to continue on to Christchurch, which was still another 4 hours down the road.

... the car smells like poo.

I look down at the floor mat and realised that there was what looked like dirt on the floor.

Closer inspection, it's not dirt.

It's poo. And it's not only on the floor mat, but on the bag that carries my laptop and sketchbook. I was not happy.

Took the floor mat out and got as much off of it as I could on the grass in the empty lot next to where the car was parked. And we got back in the car and drove off.

But it was a mystery. I'm a murdery mystery fan, I should be able to use that to my advantage. We had the facts: there was a cat, and there is poo and there is poo in the car. The question was how did it get there?

Thought I might have accidently set my bag on some poo and carried it in, but I went down from a second story with the bag on my back, then back up, there would be less poo on the floor and more on my back, which there wasn't.

I didn't step in the poo, because by bag goes in first, and there would be no way for the poo to get on the bag if it had been on my foot.

David suggests that this might mean there is a cat in the car.

We both paused, looking around uncomfortably.

But cats don't like car rides much, unless it's a very odd cat or a heavy sleeper, so this was discounted. We probably would have heard about it before hand if there had been a cat in the car.

So as far as we can figure, when we were packing up, a cat snuck into the car through the open boot, left a poo right were I usually rest my left foot when riding in the front of the car, then disappeared again, leaving behind a mysterious poo.

... either that or it was Shroedinger's Cat....

Comments

[hailgreatmoloch.livejournal.com]

DaDADANDUMMMMMMMMMM!

[ickaimp.livejournal.com]

#^^# Hee.

[ysabet.livejournal.com]

......Schroedinger's Poo?

[ickaimp.livejournal.com]

Well, it's a more scientific explination than 'The poo teleported' ^^;;

[poe-nui.livejournal.com]

As Ysabet has commented - only you. *eyes go wide at a thought* Tell me, is David as prone to odd occurances as you are? If so, Mel needs to figure out what the blast-range is, and whether she's outside of it...

[ickaimp.livejournal.com]

David says that he's an anti-weirdness magenet when travelling. Things go according to plan.

I'm now exremely worried.