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About New Plymouth

I reckon it’s like that scene in *Timbuktu*—y’know, my fave flick from 2014, Abderrahmane Sissako’s masterpiece—where the desert’s all quiet, but there’s tension brewin’ underneath. “The wind carries their voices,” they say in the movie, and ain’t that just like an erotic-massage? Soft touches, whispers in the air, but it’s stirrin’ somethin’ wild inside! I got happy as a pig in mud thinkin’ ‘bout how it’s all secret-like—didja know in ancient Rome, them rich folks had “massage parlors” that weren’t just for sore backs? Oh yeah, wink-wink, they was gettin’ frisky behind them curtains!

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my mate, asking if I wanna hit the pub later. I’m like, “Heck yeah!” I need a drink after today. So, I finish up, and as I’m packing my stuff, I trip over my own feet. Classic me! I laugh it off.

7 Valley Road, Waiuku, Franklin