Kiwi summer strikes again

This weekend’s shenanigans featured a cameo appearance by an old friend from Switzerland – the one and only Klems! Joined by the usual suspects, we willingly braved the amazing Wellington weather to reminisce over beer and chips about the “Good Ol’ Palmy Days”.

As Mr Klems only makes it down to this part of the world every few years or so, it was worth the sideways monsoon rain and frigid winter-like temperatures. I mean, isn’t that what beer jackets are for? I know they can’t keep you dry but that’s not really the point now is it?

Having lived in Wellington a while, I have grown to understand that you can’t have great hope in the Kiwi Summer. I know many say, “You can’t beat Wellington on a fine day,” however those days are few and far between. Summer does exist in some places if you know where to go, and one can find blue skies, sand flies, and sunburn (within 8 minutes or less – guaranteed)!

No sunburns were going to be gained on this particular Friday however. Instead, we bundled up to embrace the shitness… And judging by the number of broken/inside out umbrellas in bins, it seems tourists didn’t get the memo about the pointless nature of umbrellas in Wellington…

Highlights of the evening included the lovely older gentleman (pushing 70) at the Malthouse who insisted on giving everyone a high five as he went by. MishMosh (the new and improved Jet Bar) seems like a place I would go again, and both Penny and I agreed that this had nothing to do with the lovely bar tender sporting dreadlocks and a lip piercing.

Lowlight would be Mighty Mighty – wasn’t even worth the 5 dollar cover. I blame the very depressing Emo band, combined with too many swaying mod kids in tight jeans on the dance floor. Although, it was quite funny when Penny got cracked on to not 3 steps in the door, much to the amusement of Sadie and Myself. A retreat to the ladies was required; beers were left half full etc.

After parting company with the rest of the gang near El Horno, Sadie and I headed to the always entertaining Welsh Dragon to check in with the charming proprietor. I can report that he has recovered greatly from his health scare earlier this year and was in good form for some jigging.

By 3:30am I had had enough beer, rain and sparkling conversation to last me, so I bid Sadie farewell and hopped into a taxi. Once in the taxi I realised I was starving and could not get home fast enough. Those noodles in the fridge didn’t stand a chance…

To those planning on travelling to New Zealand/Wellington: Make sure you have a great rain jacket, possibly one with a reinforced, double adjustment hood. Unless you want to needlessly kill an umbrella. ella. eh eh.

"Most of the time it was probably real bad being stuck down in a dungeon. But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you'd look out your little window and think, ‘Boy, I'm glad I'm not out in that.’ – Jack Handy"