How do you decide what to write about when you've done nothing at all worth speaking about on a certain day?
It presents a problem.
I mean, I woke up late, ate lunch four hours later, spent time on the internet looking at organizing (some very interesting ideas for decorating popped up), read 40 pages of Seabiscuit, decided I'm not reading Plain Truth, ate dinner, washed dishes, and started making a picture collage in the shape of a map.
Between lunch and dinner we also headed off to the Royal Albatross Center (in Dunedin, by the way). We actually saw three albatrosses flying around, and later as we drove back home we saw another just floating on the water.
The clouds, by the way, were fantastic.
There are quite a few albatross species, actually. Some are whiter and some are grayer or blacker, but they're all albatross and they all have beautiful eyes, in my opinion. We saw Waved Albatross chicks in the Galápagos. They look like dodo birds, to be honest. The ones in Dunedin are Royal Albatross. I can't for the life of me explain what the difference is (though one is certainly smaller or larger, has different coloring, and has different feeding habits, besides the fact that they nest in completely different corners of the globe).
We might have been able to see the Yellow Eyed Penguin and fur seals (up close) as well, had we paid $50 for a tour, but we decided against that, since we've seen sea lions and don't like the look of the penguins. Their yellow eyes make them feel a bit evil. So instead of being carted around on an All Terrain Vehicle, we took our binoculars and cameras and walked down to the 'cliff's edge' (naturally safely fenced off) to take pictures of the albatross and the other seabirds flying around.
It was very windy— one seagull took off, flapped its way up to a current, and then literally shot-glided away on the current of air before I was quite certain if it was going to be able to stay in the air or not. The flapping certainly looked precarious.
On the way home Dad managed to maneuver the camper van over hills. This was a hair-raising experience, as the camper is manual, is probably about ten years old, and is, by all accounts, huge.
In the midst of the huge-cool house district of Dunedin, while ascending a hill, Big Bear stopped. For a moment we were sliding backwards, but Dad put the brakes on, waited a moment, and then slowly… slowly… slowly climbed up the hill.
Success! And, best of all, we are still in one piece!
Ready to take on the next two hills, just as steep as the previous one.
Like I said, it was a hair-raising experience. I was clutching my computer and the table in front of me and holding on to the camera for dear life.