baguettes for brekkie
You got a geisha girl staying with you?
Nicely written, that could have gone either way if you had shown any emotion other than humility and respect.
My Maori mates used to have a similar wind up ; They would catch someone looking at them and say, "what you looking at ?" to which the hapless subject naturally replies, "nothing" my mate then says, "you calling me nothing"..... Fun times.
What do you call Kiwis on Mogadon?
Once Were Worriers.
saturday night at the piano bar in papeete is a fine place to check the polynesian culture of the first born male child! couple of hinano's and you'll be a hit in those thongs freeride!
grab a copy of "of reef and palm" by louis becke from gutenburg.org for the original version of the outsider!!
no need to mention the fcuking roosters!!
Talofa freeride,as a palagi/pakeha in South Auckland things might seem a bit scary but the Polynesian sense of humour shone through,even though you may have thought things may have turned out differently.
Hope you have a great time in Tahiti.
So Freeride, out of curiosity, what is the thought process behind spending your hard earned dollars going to chopes when it is at it's most crowded for the year and I guess, most expensive?
How's the new stick. Keen to see what lines a chopes board has...
If I wasn't here to write about the Comp Shaun I wouldn't be here.
If I just wanted to be here on a surf-trip I deffo wouldn't come when the comp was on.
Still got some nice nugs out there at 4-6ft Chopes today.
haha, your in a unique position, where if they don't give you any waves you can overlook mentioning them in any articles. Good luck to you if you can handle that sort of life.
Spent the day before leaving for Chopes on Bribie, South Pacific island extraordinaire, and home to the finest op-shops outside Grafton in the world.
I picked up some luggage and threads and a pair of lightly worn Brazilian leather loafers.
First pair of shoes since I rescued some doc marten slip ons from a dumpster in Kempsey.
I elected to leave them behind for the Tahitian voyage.
Why Bribie isn't on the ASP whiteboard as a possible dream tour venue I'll never understand, but Brodie if you're reading and I know you are, take this as a proof of concept for Bribie: The land that Time Forgot Classic sponsored by Obese Kids and Skin cancer riddled retirees 2012. I'll be happy to offer my services pro bono as a marketing/PR consultant to get the event off the ground. This'll make New York City look like butt-fuck Kansas.
I had to overnight in Auckland, staying in some grungey airport bed and breakfast (seriously, who the fcuk would have a B and B near an Airport: the kiwis thats who) in South Auckland.
First thing the charming old dear who runs the joint said was: "Oh, the streets are mostly safe but I'd be home before nightfall if I was you".
So I took a stroll downtown just before dark. It was fricking cold as an orange roughy's arsehole and the first thing I noticed was, no pakeha. Didn't see a single whitey. Big churches, dogs chained up in front yards, run down little shops and liquor stores. The mood was South Pacific gothic. Gangs. Face and neck tatts. The ground would shake at regular intervals but it wasn't seismic in nature. It was generated by the passage of shitboxes booming hip hop beats with cars full of hooded polynesians.
It made me remember that parts of Auckland have some of the highest rates of violent crime in the world. Once were Warriors.
I found myself walking through deserted streets and found a good looking kid doing chin-ups in a front yard home made gym.
"How many?" I asked him.
"15", he said.
"Mind if I?" I asked him.
"Go for it bro."
I punched out a dozen.
"Whats it like here?" I asked him.
"no good bro, bad people. Gangs".
"what you training for?"
"The Army. Soon as I turn 17 I'm outta here bro".
I wished him well and continued on. I found a small run down store next to a liquor store and greengrocers. It was grimy. I brought a bottle of water and some toothpaste. I paid and said thank-you.
A voice behind me said " You not from round here bro?"
It was a tattooed maori fella, wearing a sleeveless hoody, with a black beanie on, socks and thongs.
I shook my head.
"Eh, tell me this" , he said and came up real close to me "why you fellas think your so much better than us. Eh?"
I laughed a nervous little laugh. "Better?, hahahhah, on the contrary sir, I consider myself quite inferior"
He continued "You tink your better than usâ€¦..my cousin went to Oz, why the fuck you think your so much better than us"
I was edging back towards the door. He had a mate there, wearing an orange hi-vis vest and looking after work angry. There were two large polynesian girls on the footpath.
"What the fuck bro" the angry one said "when you gunna show us some respect?"
One of the maori girls said "sock him Joe" and started laughing.
I've always trusted in the essential sweetness of the South Pacific islander. In every island heart is goodness born of music and tradewinds. But good people can turn bad in the city and I felt now I was about to get rumbled, bull-ragged before I even got to Tahiti.
An icy feeling came in my veins. I got nothing I thought. Not a damm thing.
The big man with the black beanie came towards me. I froze.
Then without warning, he burst out laughing and slapped me on the back so hard that the tight knot of fear in the pit of my stomach almost choked me as it came out my mouth in a nervous
"Got you bro!"
"Y'see him ?" he was pissing himself to his mate "white as a fcuking ghost eh!"
"C'mere bro" he put a bear-like arm around me and drew me close like a child.
"Have a drink" and he pulled a tally of VB out of a gunny sack.
I drank the tallboy with the two gents and thanked them profusely for hosting me in their hood and wished them all the best.
I scurried back to the safety of the B and B as a freezing auckland night closed in.
Anywayâ€¦anyone want anything in particular covered while I'm in Tahiti let me know.