Yesterday I took a day trip into Hamilton to pick up a friend from the Hospital (long story) and to do a bit of much needed shopping (I was running out of wearable underwear, if you must know).

Hamilton is only a 45 minute drive from my quiet little home in Raglan, but I’d never even been there.  On my way into Rags I had hitched a ride from the bus stop, spending only a short time on the side of the road waiting for a ride on the outskirts of town.  I’d now been in Raglan for over two months — and I’d never left.
This place is like a time warp.  Everything runs on Raglan Time and often we don’t even know what day it is.  It’s a laid back lifestyle with lots of sunshine and hammocks and beach runs and surf sessions and long lazy chats over coffee.  It’s hippy and happy and healthy – a good place to be.

Geographically, we aren’t too far from the hustle and bustle of the big city (only a 2 ½ hour drive to Auckland), but mentally, we are light-years away.  I haven’t been keeping up with world news or politics, and I certainly haven’t been updating this blog.

So what the hell have I been doing for the last two months?

Basically, I’ve been learning to surf and pushing this frail little body of mine past its limits.  You all know about my dislocated ribs from last month, well this month, I’ve gone and nearly broken my ankle. I bailed in shallow surf and landed sideways on the corrugated sand with all my weight on my right ankle.  I felt a snap and a sharp pain shot through my foot and up my leg – I thought for sure it was broken.  I limped back to shore and lay sprawled out on the sand, grimacing in anguish like a sad little girl until the initial shock subsided.  After a few minutes, the pain dulled and I thought I was fine – just need to walk it off, I told myself, quit being such a pussy.

So I grabbed my board and walked back up the long steep hill to my car, drove home, took a shower and went to work at the Marlin Bar.  A few hours into my shift, my ankle was throbbing and I took off my shoe and sock to have a look at the damage.  My whole foot was swollen and the side of my ankle had a lump the size of a baseball.  I could barely get my shoe back on.

I ditched work early and went to a friend’s house where Lisa, the lovely Austrian took very good care of me – making sure my ankle stayed elevated and iced and keeping a cold beer in my hand at all times.

She convinced me to see the town doctor in the morning to make sure I wasn’t hobbling around on a broken ankle and causing more damage.  Turns out it wasn’t broken, but I did partially tear the ligaments.  Shit.  I was given a bandage and a crutch and sent on my way.  Doc says I’m not allowed to surf or do anything active for at least a month, but I stopped by the local hippie herbalist and she put together a mystical concoction of something magical that should speed up the healing process.  15 drops of Arnica and Comfrey, 3 times daily.

So I’ll be taking it pretty easy for the next few weeks – looking forward to getting back to being active because (you’ll  never believe it) I quit smoking almost three weeks ago!  Yeah – so I’ve been really into running and being physical to distract myself from the allure of that sweet, sweet nicotine (yucko!)… and now I’m hobbled and all I can do is limp around on my crutches and drink beers while reminiscing about the good old days of being a smoker.

Anyway, I’ll be back in action soon enough — until then, I guess I’ll just spend more time in the hammock.