Maybe I should trust the weather forecast

This weekend we had planned to go to Snowplanet, an indoor artificial snow slope north of Auckland.  The weather forecast was for terrible weather, so an indoor activity seemed like the best idea.  However, once ballet was over on Saturday morning, it seemed like a nice day, so we decided to visit the Pacifika festival at Western Springs.  This is a big annual event where lots of island nations showcase their music, food, and various arts and crafts.  Its free to enter, and being not far away from us we thought we’d give it a try.

We started off in Ponsonby (picking up my laptop from the computer hospital), and needless to say, got totally tangled up in manic traffic around Western Springs.  I eventually dropped everyone off, went to find a carpark, then walked back to join them at the festival.   It took me half an hour, and several phone calls, to find them, and when I did it was in front of a stage where John Key was giving a short address to a tiny crowd.  He was on the main stage, but almost everyone was elsewhere, and his little speech was more of a miss than a hit.  He could obviously sense that he wasn’t going down a storm, and finished off by lamely thanking the Pacific islands for providing so many All Blacks…that went down like a lead balloon as well, and at that point he mercifully called it quits. 

It started raining, but being Auckland, we thought it wouldn’t rain for very long, and forged on to find some lunch.  We decided to visit the tent of a Pacific island I won’t name, in case a resident ever reads this and sends me hate mail.  We chose food that was already in styrofoam containers and we couldn’t see.  (Yep that’s a warning bell you can hear).  It was raining a bit harder now,  so we sat under a tree to eat our feast.  We opened the first box, and it was half full of what looked, and I’m honestly not exaggerating AT ALL, like a giant turd.  It was brown, and slimy, and huge, and I could swear it had already been digested by someone else.    Nestled next to it was something equally unappealing, a large slab of something muddy green.  Which turned out to be fish, and actually quite nice, unlike the poo which was not poo, but was definitely not tasty, and I have no idea what it was.  The other container held a piece of taro that could have been used as a hockey puck, a chicken drumstick (hurrah, something the girls would eat!), and some chow mein.  (I dunno, I had given up by this point).   

We decided to move on and find something else, something we could recognise, but the rain was actually proper rain now, and we were feeling less like we were on an adventurous trip around the Pacific islands and more like we were trapped in a wet crowded park full of cold food that needed sunshine, context and a good mood to go with it.  I’m sad to say we went to a cafe in Ponsonby with a playground and a newspaper to read and plenty of hot drinks.  Actually, I’m delighted to say we went to the cafe, it was brilliant.   Perhaps we’ll try Pacifika next year, but stick to food we can see before we buy.