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The Consequences

For J everything hurt, for V life was still to come into focus.

We decided it was a good day to drive to Wanaka and do nothing. Halfway there we realised we had left our plates and sporks on the drying rack in the Queenstown campsite. This meant we had to go back to our Indian ways and eat everything with our hands using bread as a plate.

We (meaning J as V was dying) attempted to pitch the tent. However, the wind had other ideas, it constantly repositioned the mother into a ball. Hungover J found this amusing for about 2 seconds then couldn’t deal with it so went to see what V was doing. To his delight she was busying herself in the only way she knew how-cooking curry. She couldn’t get over how amazing the lamb was. Might have been due to hangover munchies but J wasn’t going to argue.

All this hard work resulted in a snooze, then more food followed.

J attempted to rouse V into going into town and booking skydiving/canyoning but she gave him the death stare so we both chilled out and spent much time studying the inside of the tent.

We are too old for this drinking malarky!

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