Ewen had to return to the doctors’ today, so we left when he did, amid much huggings and threats of return matches, somewhere in Europe. We have been made totally welcome and comfortable – I only hope Ewen felt half as happy when he stayed with us.
The trip north was certain but the destination less so until Ewen rang Karen, a friend in Tauranga on the Bay of Plenty. She recommended several good restaurants, offered us a bed for the night if we got stuck, but the clinching argument was that it was sunny and warm. I rang ahead to book a B & B and a restaurant (Karen’s first choice) that looked nearby. In the event, it was a mere five minutes’ drive, so a good call, and a very nice meal it was too, though the place was empty by ten o’clock. We fancied a nightcap at a large bar we’d passed, but by 10.20, it was locked, dark and empty. This area is described by the LP as “The closest it gets to the Riviera in NZ” so we must have missed the club strip in the centre of town. Out in the sticks, everyone has to be up with the lark. The B & B place is described as a ‘farmlet’ of three acres: it has lovely gardens and is superbly excluded, so all is set for a good night’s sleep.