New Zealand Cycle Tour: Mount Maunganui to Matata 68kmTime Taken: 3:07. Maximum Speed: 52.7 kph. Average Speed: 21.7kph
Our day of loafing in luxury at The Aquarius Motor Inn had left me in the need of some alone time. So as our day of cycling began I tagged along behind Scott my mind lapping back and forth lazily. I increased my distance behind Scott on the flat, kiwifruit scented road to Te Puke.
Scott tootled to a crawl to wait for me. Damn him I just wanted to drift along on my own. So I developing a new tactic, I sped up to get away from him. What was I thinking! It wasn’t like I’d actually manage to keep in front of an A-grade elite cyclist for more than two minutes. So Scott went back in the front happier with the pace only for me to slow down and lag behind again.
In Te Puke he pulled up beside me and said harshly “Do you want to be alone or something?” “Something like that” I glowered.
Alone is what I got. And I got it all day.
Scott rode off into the distance. He stopped at a service station for drinks. I stopped too. He didn’t look at me then road off again. I sat on a box outside the servo and slowly and deliberately ate an ice cream. He’ll worry about me I thought.
Scott had stopped and set up camped at Matata – at a little shithole campground squeezed between ocean dunes and a wading bird wetland that cost $5 a night, whose only amenities was a couple of toilets and one uni-sex shower that cost $2 a time and was scalding hot. Not acknowledging me Scott wandered off.
There are three shops of consequence in Matata, the pub, the wholesaler, and the diary which doubles as a fish’n’chip shop. Scott bought himself some whisky RTD’s and takeaways and went back to camp. I bought myself some RTD’s and sat at the picnic table on the roadside overlooking the wetland and the camping ground, and wondered how my alone time had got so bent out of shape.
I sat there until I’d drunk it all. My arse throbbed from sitting on the wooden plank for so long, and my head throbbed from pondered all possible aspects of our relationship. That stubborn arse! Men are from Mars, they need to go into their caves and lick their wounds … but hell, I wasn’t going to sit out there all night! The fool just needed to get over himself. I traipsed back to camp and flopped down beside him “So how long are you going to punish me?” A guarded look and scathing sigh returned. “I just wanted some alone time, but hell, you’d think I’d asked for a divorce”. I raised my eyebrows and put on my best Cheshire cat ‘forgive me’ face.
He eyed me with suspicion “Damn you girl, you drive me crazy”
Whiskey mended the rest.