A weekend jaunt

Richard and I are off to Taupo this weekend for a wee bit of a getaway. I haven’t had a weekend away for 2 months which is not like me at all. As a result, I am as excited as I was before we went to Fiji.
Being me, I have many lists on the go as to what to pack. Bear in mind, this is a 2 day trip. I could just take a couple of pairs of knickers and an extra jersey. But my spreadsheet has columns, and they must be filled with data. Black polo neck: check. Red polo neck: check. Black cardi: check. Other black cardi: check. Other black cardi just in case: check.
Then, what if we go outside? Taupo is notoriously icey, and the forecast is for 12-13 during the day and 1-2 at night. Bunny fur jacket: check. Polar fleece: check. Space suit made from asbestos: check.
And activities! Togs: check. Towel: check. Bikini wax: priceless. Taupo hot pools are gorgeous – go there if you’re ever in the area – up at deBretts hotel.
The other fun thing about going away is cooking different things. Last time I tried homemade pizzas…. Turns out yeast is the one thing you can’t use after its best-before date. It was like eating scones with a light dusting of cement. The topping of caramelised onion, blue cheese and smoked mushrooms was delicious though.
This time I think I’m going to go for a spring menu….but haven’t got any good ideas at present. Enlighten me with yours. Maybe chicken pie? Free range of course…

I have already offered to drive on the way down – ostensibly because Richard’s eyesight isn’t the greatest – but really it’s because I can’t stand being driven by anyone. This is because I am the best driver in the world, and everyone else is shit. Conversations I have with people when driving:

My mother: “Your car has six gears. Why do you only use two?”
My best friend: “Can you please pull over…..I’m going to be car sick.” This because there are 2 speeds – mega mega fast or dead slow.
Richard: “ You can pass him you know. He’s doing 70 in a 100k zone on a straight road.”
“Can you go faster please?”
“Can you please not answer your phone while you’re driving?”
“You’re doing 80. If I were following you, I’d be tearing my hair out.”

Richard – bless him – takes this on the chin. Apparently I am the worst back seat driver in the world and I do freely admit I am. So hey, save us both the pain and let me drive! Not only will we get there in half the time, we won’t argue. You may feel somewhat emasculated, but we’ll make up for that later by letting you empty the car and drink pints down the pub. Now that’s compromise.