Then provide a link to the story.

More to follow, but this is a pain in the ass to post.

Sunday night, I didn’t feel like following the menu plan, so I winged it and made chicken migas for dinner. Brian called it, “Glorious,” and said it was the best camp meal I’ve ever made. I admit it was pretty tasty. I was in the zone.

boiled water for the dishes and laundry, and even for our showers. We played Azul Queen’s Garden before falling into bed and drifting off to dreamland.
On Sunday, I started reading Neil Stephenson’s “Reamde” . I made it to page 900 before we left. I can safely say that it’s a pretty good book.

We THINK that what happened was that somehow, water leaked into the trailer, and got a number of things wet, including our Joolca (hot water heater). It must have rusted inside, because we could not get it to work. So, we went old school, with a kettle and the stove.

After dinner, we walked up the road to see if we could find a signal. There was zippedy-doo-dah at the campgrounds. We got a signal and Brian sent a text to Sav to let her know all was well. But all was not well...

After a day of sorting shit out little by little, and getting it all into the correct positions, rather than wherever the fuck we threw them just to clear the trailer, we sat down to a lovely dinner of homemade stew and some buttered Farmer’ loaf from Diehl’s. It felt very “pioneer-y”.

I mean, is it really a camping trip if you haven’t had a visit from ducks? I think not. Now, I own them.

We fell into our beds after cleaning up, and I slept blissfully for the next eight hours.

I woke up “late” with light all around me. Then I rearranged a few things and made a coffee to enjoy in the growing light. Three ducks (sisters I think) arrived. I fed them some French bread.

This time I used Italian pepperoni, pastrami, and tandoori chicken along with some Emmentaler, habenero mustard, mayo, lettuce, tomatoes, red onion, and cucumber. Fucking awesome sandwich, particularly when you’re exhausted.

We got to work and believe it or not, there was not a cross word between us. We came up with a couple of new approaches to setting shit up, and they all worked, so we’ll be doing it that way again the next time. After most everything was in place, we went inside and had the sandwich.

It was surrounded by trees, so protected from the winds, and you could catch a peek of the ocean through the trees. Running next to the site was a rocky creek, with a small deepish pool beneath one of several waterfalls. I mean, idyllic.

We found this out when we left, but seeing as how I am writing this now, it was not an issue.

The space was large enough for two campsites the size of ours and flat as a mule’s cunny, but no one came near us the entire week (unless we invited them).

We found the one that everyone is afraid of because the road down to it is very steeply pitched. Anyone with a boat or trailer would think twice about it, because although getting into the space is easy-peasy, getting out of it take a bit of a run up and a steady foot on the petrol.

After 26 years of camping in New Zealand, I think we finally found “the perfect spot.” Fantail only has room for about half a dozen big tents and maybe the same number of smaller ones, if you don’t mind pitching right next to the road, or the neighbours (3 mtrs apart, of course).