The wandering

Once a year The Bloke and I take a day out together to wander about the city, sans children and responsibilities.  Yesterday was the planned day.

Miss A and Miss B are sent off to school and we head off. I wasn't feeling that great with the first signs of a cold coming on the night before. Still, never one to turn down a day where anything can happen, we set forth.

We drove over to Birkenhead point, an area where The Bloke spent much of his adventurous youth. A good reminisce is one of life's small pleasures, and a great way to be reminded how much we have achieved. Especially when the increments can be so slow you can't see them without taking a step back. A bit like getting fat but thinking the dryer has shrunk your clothes until your tactless relative asks when the baby is due!

The view from Birkenhead point

Next we stopped by the newly reopened and renamed  Ravenhill cafe at 98 Hinemoa Street.
Check here for menus and reviews. I read a review in the Herald on Saturday and realised it was the old Cafe 98 where The Bloke and I had our wedding celebration. The cafe is an old butchers shop with 18ft tiled ceilings, old marble counters and a nice covered courtyard at the back. Added bonus, no surcharge on public holidays.

The food was great and the water came in milk bottles, how cute is that? The marble counter tops were a bit cold, great for rolling out pastry,  not quite so good to lean on while sipping a latte.

Next we stopped off at Junk & Disorderly. An unprepossessing entrance hiding a plethora of fascinating finds. This must be the largest collection of second hand and vintage goods in Auckland. It's an old 'L' shaped warehouse STUFFED with...with...with...well stuff.

There are boxes of old postcards next to single chandelier crystals. Old tin toys and industrial lights next to bone china teacups. Art from across the span of time, some of it seizure-inducing (in my opinion), but some pretty interesting. Stuffed animals of every shape and size. Racks of vintage dresses, shoes, hats, bags, and gloves. Surfboards and kitch shell-encrusted lamps next to 80's wedding dresses. Pinball machines, religious icons, lounge suits, cutlery, filing cabinets, old vinyl, mannikins, it goes on and on. The remnants of the 20th century abandoned to their fate.

At the end of the warehouse sits a cute little caravan cafe (sadly not open today) with seating set up around it like Grandma's old living room. Past the caravan cafe lies a corridor, stuffed with more stuff, leading to the ladies loo, painted a pink designed to get you in and out or suffer retinal burns!

By this time I was beginning to feel very sick indeed. And once The Bloke stared calling me Mary, I knew it was time to call it a day.

see ya tomorrow...if I live!!