By: Blonde Two
Blonde One and I accomplished young ladies; but we are both particularly hopeless at the business of jokes. If you can think of the end of the one in this title; do please share it. In the meantime; Blonde Two has indeed gone to New Zealand, is sitting in her bed watching the (fox-free) bunnies running around the farm lawn; and looking forward to a day of bonfires and cousin visiting (rain has just arrived on cue – some things are still quite British here!)
On the (very, very long) way here, I did some counting (all on my own!) Here is what it takes to get a Blonde to New Zealand, in descending order:
Miles Travelled: 11569.96
Tannoy Announcements: 50
Hours Travelled: 36
Ticket Checks: 17
Hours Slept: 15
Loo Visits: 12
Number of Loos: 8
Music Tracks: 8
Shops Visited: 7
Escalators Travelled: 6
Travelators Avoided: 6
Meals Eaten: 6
Ear Plugs Worn: 6
Bottles of Water: 5 (more about this later)
Train Platforms: 5
Films Watched: 4
Perfumes Squirted on Scarf: 4
Security Checks (including bio-security): 3
Trains: 3
Airports: 3
Travelators Actually Ridden: 3
Blonde Two Grumps: 3
Ear Plugs Lost: 2 (don’t ask me where!)
Cars: 2
Lifts: 2
Cardigans Lost: 1 (somewhere at Heathrow)
Headaches: 1 (it was quite a long one)
Books Read: 1
Pages of Books Read: 1
Newpapers Read: 1
So, quite a concerted effort on behalf of Mr B2, First Great Western, Air New Zealand and Uncle Norman! But here I am and looking at my new morning bedroom view, it was definitely worth it, so thanks to everyone! (Yes, even you, shouty Los Angeles security man!)
… lacks confidence in Doubtful Sound.
… orders meal, is served lamb!
… goes south and gets colder.
… ambushed by Disappearing Gun.
… prosecuted for finding Port Underwood ugly,
… XXXXXXXX for petting a possum.
… XXXXXXXX for kissing an Oz.
OK, I’ve got you started. Now paddle your own glass-bottomed boat.