"How was your day?" A pretty common question that ends in endless dross. It's a question that bridges gaps... It's one of those phrases that has taken on less meaning through time but is so valuable in British social culture. It conjures responses of even more empty words and phrases: "ok" and "fine". It's used to fill the emptiest situation with a 'something'. It's similar to "great weather" and "how you doing?". No one wants a real response or we would have said something else. We want a simple one word answer so we have ticked the box of social politeness and we can move on with our day. Imagine the person you live near and see regularly enough to need to not piss them off but have no interest whatsoever in how there day has been.
But every now and again you have a good day. Not just: "I didn't hate my life today!" Or "I actually feel like I got something done." But a completely differently amazing day that the first poor sod that happens to try and fill the awkward gap at the bus stop gets both barrels of awesomeness. He isn't going anywhere because he wants the bus and your just about to explode with how awesome your day was. We aren't British anymore. We are people. And fuck your non question because I'm happy; and welcome to my bus stop.
How did my day start you didn't at all ask? I can't remember. I assume I woke up in a van; had porridge and started driving to some unpronounceable name on a map. I do remember meeting a lovely man named peter who informed me I could take a shower in a local swimming pool. Then I took said shower and headed to the peninsula of Dunedin. I had pin pointed this place when getting excited about our trip in the uk because we might see albatross and this has been a life long dream. Unfortunately we were too late for the boats so we settled for having lunch (beans and a fried egg we bought from an honesty box at the fraction of the usual price of honesty) with burnt toast. Delish. It was overlooking a view too staggering to explain to you. But it was classic New Zealand Coast line. We packed up and drove down to the tip to see what we were still in time to take part in. A drive that was both seat of your pants petrifying and lord of the rings inspiring brought us out to the coastal road just in time to watch them untying the boat for the extra albatross trip that day. In classic New Zealand style the lad shouts that if we run and jump we can get on board. No worries about money just sort it out later! We are sprinting, then sprinting back to lock the van. Then sprinting back again to unlock and grab the camera and finally hopping the gap just as the ropes are untied to grab our binoculars and a free jacket. It's not going to surprise you that I'm excited and even more so in seeing nesting baby albatross from afar. This would have done me and given me bragging rights over my sister in law for a few years. Job done.
The boat journey stepped up a notch when I manage to snap a cute picture of a baby seal for Lisa to show her girly friends. Another notch when the first fully grown albatross takes off and soars over the boat giving me a picture I know my brother is going to hate me for. Then the unthinkable happens. The captain shouts out at a distant splash and claims to have spotted dolphins in the distance. Followed by the annoying posh British tourist: "I see them too". No you didn't. Who cares: as far as Facebook is concerned I technically saw one so that is enough for me. Then the lovely lady walks round the boat and checks no one minds that we arrive late. Thinking it's because of the weather or some other seaness I don't understand we just smile and nod and say it's fine. The next notch was catching up with a pod of dolphins a hundred strong and killing the engine while they fed and played around us. Now I have seen this happen on TV. I have imagined it happening and seen photos of a dolphin next to a boat but nothing could prepare me for a level of excitement that I couldn't actually handle. This was an odd feeling. I'm watching dolphins backflip so close they are soaking the seven of us lucky enough to be on this boat. I don't know how to explain to you what over a hundred dolphins looks like. It's kinda ridiculous. Lisa's face made it all the more amazing as she clearly 'simply can't deal' either. It's a genuine moment. Flash back to the last time you couldn't keep up with your emotions. Like running down a hill and your legs start to windmill. Being a child where your understanding stops and awe joins in for a laugh. No one on board can believe what is happening and the woman who works on the boat is just sat down confused as "it's too late in the season..." "Why the hell are there so many!?" We followed the pod and a serenity occurs. No one speaks, no one can quite get over it. Just silence as this bizarre acrobatic display becomes almost intimidating in its beauty; just for a split second.
The albatross almost forgotten are clearly feeding on whoever the dolphins are because they are out in force. And not just the local ones fully grown southern king albatross three and a half metres wide and a full metre and a half tall. It's not a bad day. In fact I think it was this that made me forget where I woke up. It's over after about twenty minutes and we head back two hours into a 45minute boat journey, a few minutes late. Everyone kind of dazed and just nodding at the rare sea birds the poor woman was half heartedly pointing out. We get back almost wanting to pay double, throwing our cash at the lad that just let us jump on. "If you guys aren't busy I could show you something?" He shuts up shop and drives us along to a tiny little beach. Just a fully grown male sea lion weighing in at roughly 350 lbs. we couldn't see half of it at first because it had buried most of its bulk under the sand. When I got about 8 metres away it barked. I thought my world was over and almost started to relay goodbye messages to my family. I got a photo and backed off pretty quickly. Turns out it was still asleep and was actually just kind of snoring. "You should see him when he comes up and tries to knock you off a surf board." No mr psycho New Zealander I very shouldn't. We have a few hours to kill before Lisa's blue penguin tour starts so we head up the top and lady face somehow manages to take a photograph of a harrier hawk making it look further away than it actually was.. Magic.
We find a cafe on top of the cliff and try to come down slightly. We write post cards to relatives back in the 1950's and as we can't afford to buy anything decide three hours is not early enough to check we haven't missed the penguins. At three o'clock. Who arrive after dark. We head back down the cliff and start the usual kettle boiling in a car park to pass some time and I decide to go and buy the tickets earlyish... Lisa really doesn't want to miss this. "No we don't have wifi but the lady in our observation tower spotted orca 15 minutes a..." Was all I heard as I started sprinting. Literally screaming while still inside the building for Lisa. Now pausing here; on reflection this was hilarious. Watching an indecisive lady who wants to go quickly because she has panicked at the sight of me running and screaming with my arms in the air is actually hilarious. Dancing back and forth her sensibleness wins out and she turns the gas stove off before spitting a biscuit out and when the words "fucking free willy" finally hit home she dashes for the camera. Well the rest is bound by the constant limitations of the English language. To you guys we just saw a pod of orca about a hundred metres off the cliff face. But in actuality a series of stupidly small chances had led us to a day which is going to be hard to ever top. They were incredible, a perfect line of fins ranging from largest to smallest. Six in total. Joined another family further out so happens to stop to greet them. This has never been seen at this particular place in the world before.
The crazy woman with a camera who actually reminded us both of my mother, jumped up and down and clearly 'couldn't deal' herself. She even ran in to tell the centre to call other centres to send people to come and look. Then the moment that makes you feel small: "I've been coming here 5 days a week for three years and I have finally seen them!". We shrank back and tried to vanish. The penguins happened I'm pretty sure. Then we drove and passed out in front of the city glowing across the water to be awoken by the local DOC guard telling us we had to move on. It was seven in the morning and I could have kissed the man. I have no idea why. We haven't had a bad day yet really. But I have no way of explaining to you what the hell happened on that one in particular. I have only the blunt edged tools of a constraining English language to make it sound as good as it was or as interesting. It happened and if we ever get married and someone asks us if it was the best day of our lives. "Well... There was that one day in Dunedin".