I had a few problems with the CD player I fitted; for some reason it wasnt getting enough power and I instantly questioned my knowledge of the Honda Accord wiring loom. I backed this up by purchasing the Haynes manual for said vehicle, digested and re-digested the circuit diagrams but found that the US and Canadian models they featured had different colours to the Jap import that I had.
Oh joy, I just have to trust myself on my knowledge of wiring. It works but it was being very strange for the first couple of days, as if the car had some sort of immune response against the object I had inserted into its electrics. No matter I thought, as I gave Lisa a lift to her work at the call centre, minus my glorious music. I just hoped that it would fix itself before I drove north to Whangarei. I drove round town, buying things, sorting out insurance and the change of ownership for the car, and by the time of getting back and eating my warm Ponsonby pies, Doug had thought I had left without him.
We made Whangarei in a couple of hours and the journey was a lot easier than previous excursions on the coach. Trev and Maria were happy to see us and had closed up early with their new opening hours. Still being a new place, they are constantly changing the menu and opening hours to find the right balance between maximising income, decent predictable opening hours and having some sort of lifestyle.
The next few days saw me slipping into the same routine of washing dishes, making a mess of coffees and orders, and rolling cutlery. Doug had a chance to see Whangarei then left on the Thursday.
By the time Saturday rolled around I was tired, Im just not cut out for this work thing, and missed the weekly visit to the organic market. I made up for it by doing some shopping, then we all went up to Whangarei falls, a tranquil spot on the outskirts of town. After marvelling at the waterfall and walking through the forest surrounding it, we went back to my car and noticed that it had been broken into. Having the glass smashed is a pain, but the worst bit was having my journal stolen which was in my bag. I had poems, japanese writing, stories, email addresses, recipies, drawings, and like photos or limbs the journal was fairly irreplacable.
A woman had spotted a Maori looking kid/youth/piece of shite hanging around my car and as he had walked off, she had followed in her car. She lost him but came back to the car park and let me know what she had seen, let her kids look after my car while she gave me a lift to the place where she saw the thief/toe-rag/vermin last. I ran around the housing estate where she saw him, but it was a pointless exercise apart from allowing me to let off steam. what was nice that while I was annoyed at having my car broken into, someone was around to restore your faith in people and help you out. The lady was very kind and apologetic, even though it wasnt her fault, so while I was angry with the scum/bored kid/outcast who had broken into the car, I was happy to meet the woman who had given chase, looked after my car and tried to help me catch him.
No matter. The waterfall was nice.
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