Auckland is my home city. By that I mean it is where I was born and grew up. We lived in the ‘burbs, but I was fortunate to go to high school within a mile of the CBD, followed by university (Art School) right in the CBD. So I have fond memories of Auckland.
There is a restaurant at the top that revolves, they serve an elegant a la carte menu featuring fresh local produce and the 360° trip takes an hour. We went around twice.
Actually there is another restaurant further up, but it is better for evening dining. Its also twice the price.
My sister and I don’t see much of each other now we are older and have grown up children of our own, but we both love a ‘posh’ lunch once in a while, so we treated ourselves. We were joined by my sister’s daughter, my very beautiful and clever niece, and we three indulged a happy and relaxed couple of hours lazily turning high above the hustle and bustle of the pre-Christmas city. Time out from the madness that folk generate in the wind up to Christmas.
This is pork fluff:
It provided great entertainment. I have a ginger cat – he is very fluffy – if you get my drift… in fact, despite its odd texture and terrible appearance it was delicious. It made us laugh – alot, probably helped by the champagne.
Its good to get together with your female relatives and have a good old laugh. I don’t do it often as I prefer my reclusive rural lifestyle. For the most part I am something of a misanthropist really. Just occasionally I like to get spruced up with make-up and heels and go somewhere sophisticated. We scrub up well my sister and I, Mum would be pleased. We do posh lunch in December for her – she died on the seventh of December (I only remember that because of Pearl Harbour) a lifetime ago, I was twenty five and she had been ill since I was ten.
Fine restaurant dining was something we did as a family. Keeping up a few family traditions provides continuity in life. We have aged and the elders have left us, a new generation is nearing middle age and there are school children to be taught table manners and how to hold a menu. We are the next elders, I like it. I wear it like an invisible comfy sweater, warm and smiling.
Ah well, enough of nostalgia. Gammy Leg and I need to get out and do our post solstice planting, the garden is burgeoning. I love that word, ‘burgeoning’, there said it again. It makes me smile. Elders in invisible sweaters should burgeone, I like to think.
(I should add that the photograph at the top, featuring the Sky Tower is not mine, I lifted it from a random selection supplied by Google images. When I went back to find it so I could give the photo-credit, it has disappeared! Can’t find it again. So if the image is yours, post me a comment and I will give credit where it is due.)