The Box Marked “Bike”
It didn’t take long after our evening riding the downhill trails on Coronet Peak for BJ to find and bid on two mountain bikes on the Kiwi version of ebay. They have yet to arrive and we are very excited to start riding but, in the end, what may hold us up is the delivery of a box marked “Bike” that BJ’s mom just took to the post office in Victor. We left three ready-to-ship boxes in our closet at home, each marked appropriately . . . Bike, Ski, Climb. The big items like bikes and skis obviously didn’t fit very well in the boxes so we decided before we left that we would buy and then sell those items down here.
We spent another evening, with a movie at the Dorothy Brown’s cinema and dinner at a restaurant called The Stables, in Arrowtown on Tuesday. We just can’t seem to get enough of that place. The one detail we noticed this week while sitting in our enormous reclining theatre seats with a glass of wine and cheeseboard in hand, was that we were surrounded by more-than-double-by-age women. There’s just no classy way of saying it . . . middle-aged. But it was the realization that we were there enjoying the film with them that actually made us laugh. The film was Vicky Cristina Barcelona, a Woody Allen film that I thought had a somewhat disappointing ending until, over dinner, BJ pointed out the message about passion that it was trying to convey. I won’t spoil it for you.
On another note, yesterday my Aunt Kate sent me a link to a job she thought I should apply for . . . The Best Job in the World . . . which thoroughly distracted me for most of the day. If you are unemployed (actually even if you are employed), and looking for some quality time writing on the beach, this would be a great opportunity. I think the job requirements say “must be willing to snorkel, sail, or kayak as needed.” I know . . . really demanding.