The temperature is below 15 degrees, a quiet love song plays in the background as I sit by the warm fire. At this moment, I should be sitting in an apartment in Devenport, right outside of Auckland. Instead, thanks to a ridiculous turn of events, I am sitting in a beautiful old style Queenslander situated on acreage in the gold coast hinterland (aka the middle of nowhere). The people around me are loud sparks flickering with flighty conversation and fast emotions. It is quite an odd contrast to the surrounds. From one wall of the interior hangs an ornate mirror of gold and cream that matches the small glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
The tale of how I arrived here is quite a lengthy one and begins before I even awoke.
This morning, on the motorway a truck carrying hydrochloric acid crashed and consequently, exploded. Creating what would be some of the worst traffic I will no doubt ever experience. Unaware of all this, I continued through the morning packing, clearing and preparing for my trip to the land of the hobbits. For once in my terribly unorganised life I was ready with my passport and luggage with everything I needed. My heart sunk when my house mate called my name in distress. She could not find her passport. We rushed around and around searching here and there for it, retracing steps and delving into past memories to see where it may possibly be. Finally, as we were both about to give up, Dee shot up and raced to our home office without a word.
“Have you got it!?” I shouted from down the hallway.
No reply. I ran after her, and aided her in fishing out the dark blue book from a crevice in set of draws that had eaten it. Now, due to recent terror threats to our airport we had planned to leave extra early for our flight which was leaving at 6:05pm, We left at 2:30pm thinking that would be more than enough time. Oh how we were wrong.
As soon as we exited our drive we encountered an onslaught of traffic. It took us two hours to drive a distance that would usually take us three minutes. My housemate and I were frantically calling the airport trying to get a hold of them to see if we could do anything. After all, it was a major crash and we had left early enough to ensure we would be at the airport two hours prior.
We ended up missing our plane, and the next day, when we finally arrived in Auckland my visa had expired anyway so it would have taken us equally as long. But, finally we are in New Zealand experiencing all that we can and eventually we will be back in our home land of Australia experiencing the saying, “Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi”.
A bookshop of dreams with two characters humble and invigorating. Collections of chess sets, comfy couches and decorating stolen traffic cones for art and mayhem.
A tipsy time of drunken thesaurus and dictionary games singing “rack city bitch rack city bitch”. It was an absolute pleasure to meet both you (Mathew the bookshop owner and Philip the assistant bookshop owner) I honestly hope that during the next few days I come back to experience both of your souls yet again as both of them melded and spoke to mine in a way that most others do not.
Remember for the future that you are both special souls and are entitled to only the best in the world. For, you are intelligent and wise, and should be active beyond your wildest dreams. Please fulfil what I have in mind for you as it is honestly more than you could ever imagine.
Write to me and the rest of the world,
Molly St John Mosse