We came out of the studio, turned right, and were within seconds on the university campus (another bonus to the studio). C had a meeting with her tutor, and so we went directly there. After discussion, C had to swap one class for another due to timetable clashes, and it turns out the computer systems are difficult for both novices and old-hats.
The tutor was unable to swap the classes, and so sent C to the student services centre. There, they said that C had to go home and do it a different way. En route home, we stopped into an off-license and bought some quintessentially Kiwi beer: Tui. Back at the hostel, we opened a bottle each, and C proceeded to try to swap the classes, for which she was presented with a confirmation page for $4333. Thanks, but no thanks. A swift email to the tutor, and "Stuart" was able to swap the classes. G was less than impressed with the Tui!
We quickly filled in the application form for the studio, and then tried several times to send the email (the internet connection here is flaky at best), and managed to send it just as Gareth, G's cousin (who she had never met before), called to say he was outside. He picked us up in this vintage BMW, with no power steering, and a very heavy clutch. We girls ride in style! He took us to another flat viewing, and came inside whilst we were shown around.
The proposed living space was a huge, unfurnished, loft, which we were shown around by a very bored mid-20s girl (who just so happened to be called Caroline). For this unfurnished loft, we would pay the very (un)reasonable rate of $370/week. We then sat down and had a brief chat with the previous and current tenants. From left-to-right: lawyer at Phillip Morris, fighting plain packaging for cigarettes; civil engineer at AU; lawyer; mumble neither of us understood. We made small talk, but both of us felt very unwelcome, and the second we got back in Gareth's car, proclaimed "NO!"
Gareth drove us to a parking spot, and we got out and went to "Mexico", in Ponsonby, for some dinner. There we had delicious guacamole (avocados are ubiquitous here), and C had a quinoa, coconut, carrot salad, G had a chickpea taco (a.k.a. falafal), and Gareth had meat. We all partook in a carafe of sangria :) During the meal, C asked Gareth if any of his uncles were physicians (we wanted to name the blog post after "The Magician's Nephew"), and he said he has a farmer uncle. Well, that was good enough for the pun!
After Mexico, we went next door to a very nice bar, which charged through the nose for what we would call singles, but here are doubles, of Laphroaig and a Heineken. We chatted about life in NZ, and made plans to go visit some more of G's family in Wellington.
After C almost fell asleep on the table, Gareth kindly drove us back to the youth hostel. There, G received a text from "Todd" saying that the other house-mates were "keen to offer" the place to us if interested.
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