hens

The hot springs at Hanmer, in winter. (Not my photo)
Our tent.
My friends Marielle (the bride), Kimilla and Natalie.

I have just had a very interesting Friday and Saturday! My friend Marielle is getting married in December, and last night almost all of her girl friends went out to Hanmer Springs for her hens' night. I may have mentioned Hanmer Springs before as a popular holiday location for Christchurchians, with its thermal pools. We ended up at Hanmer Forest Park, camping out in an Air Force tent our friend Kendyl borrowed for us. Unfortunately, Kendyl forgot the poles for the second part of the tent, so we ended up with the tent you see in photos above... for fourteen girls to sleep in! Obviously, it's not a huge tent. We ended up having seven people squished up along each side, in two rows, so you hardly had room to turn over, and if anyone wanted to get up to go to the bathroom... woe betide them. I was next to the door except for one, and these massive gusts of wind got up during the night, meaning the doorway flap actually slid over the girl next to me, leaving her outside half the time! It was pretty freezing during the night; I had on thermals, my pyjamas, and my polarfleece hoody with the hood zipped up around my head so only my eyes and nose were showing. I don't think any of us actually got to sleep but simply dozed the whole evening. There was something kind of fun about it though; it was an experience. And for only $8 each, it was a pretty cheap way to be accomodated! This morning we went to the pools, which are lovely, and there's lots of cute little babies gurgling away in the nice warm water to cluck over - although by the time you've broiled away in the pools for a couple of hours your fingers are about as pruney as they could possibly be. I drove back this afternoon with a couple of friends and I have to say I was very pleased to be at home and to stop concentrating on the road. Bring on the coffee. Strong coffee. And there's no doubt but that I will be sleeping well tonight.

We heard about Marielle's fiance's stag do - I am so glad I am not male. He got painted green and dressed in a grass skirt, tied to a stake, and carried through Riccarton Mall like a pig on a spit, with his "friends" yelling war cries all around him. They got kicked out twice. Apparently his wrists are still bleeding from rope burn. I do not think I will ever understand the male psyche.