On arrival in Auckland, the Clarkster is a s good as her word as she and sam greet each other like two long lost Jewish sisters seperated by 50 years of the Iron Curtain. Much wailing, hugging and tear soaked laughter ensues. We are driven by Sonny to their house, where I need to make anohter couple of pitstops before we head to Mission Bay and the Belgian Cafe. We have a table on the balcony with a beautiful view, though for soem reason I can't keep away from the windowless room at the back of the restaurant. After half a glass of Hoegarden (Sonny's choice; I wasn't that reckless of my condition) and a spoonful of soup, I have to advise that the contractions are becong more frequent, so we make an emergency dash for home. A night of fever, delerium, shitting water and puking follows; by morning I feel shrivelled, but sort of better, but spend the rest of the day sleeping while the others go out to escape the stench.
By evening I am ready to re-aquaint myself with food and Sonny serves his lamb roast with crazy NZ vegetables, which is quite frankly, THE BEST FOOD I HAVE EVER TASTED! I keep it down, but although I would have loved to pig out, I stick to safe limits, before we head for our hotel and more rest.
Sam has proved herself an angel of mercy during all this; as if putting up with me snoring and dancing all night on a normal night isn't enough, she has now cleaned up my vomit and nursed me...I love this woman and now I know I would die for her!