In the dead of the night

I woke up at three o’clock this morning to get ready for TV3. I’m pleased to say that for the first day this week I managed to successfully beat the Auckland traffic. However, there hasn’t been one day this week that I haven’t gotten lost. Today was no exception.

Dad had told me to take a different road into town, because he was worried there could be ice on the road, and it would be better for me to get on the main road sooner. As I should have expected, I got hopelessly lost and ended up somewhere out by Muriwai beach, slowly driving down a dark, winding road while the trees on either side swayed ominously in the stormy weather.

‘This is it,’ I thought to myself. ‘I’m entering the plot of a horror movie.’

If my car had broken down and hillbilly mutants had appeared out of the shadows, I wouldn’t have been overly surprised.

I somehow found my way back, saw the road sign that I’d missed earlier that pointed me towards Auckland city, and I was off on my merry way again, happy that the feeling of impending doom was diminishing.

There’s something particularly eerie about driving a country road at nighttime, when the moon is peeking at you from behind a cluster of heavy looking clouds. There’s not another soul in sight – but occasionally you’ll spot the taillights of another car and wonder what they’re doing roaming the back roads of Waimauku at half past three in the morning. Maybe it’s that feeling of being completely alone that got me.

The rest of the morning was pretty uneventful, and I had a chocolate biscuit. I’m now back in Hamilton, feeling happy to be back home, despite all the fun I had this week.

Boy, am I looking forward to a sleep in tomorrow.