It had been a long stretch of work, and we decided to spend a nice, relaxing weekend on the beach south of New Plymouth. Found a little beach house to rent online, unfortunately finding it in real life was much harder. Apparently, instead of a road sign, the name of the road is painted on a rock, that you can only see from one direction...yep, not the direction we were coming from. So we drove past it several times, all the while the gas tank getting nervously close to empty (oops..forgot to fill up before we left). After asking for directions twice, we finally found the road, and drove down a very long, dirt road which basically led right to the ocean. We were happy to find a peaceful, modern little studio apartment, connected to the owner's house. With the sound of the surf crashing in, and the sun setting over the ocean, we couldn't help but relax. We gathered together our usual accoutrements for such occasions (wine, cheese, bread...this is common knowledge by now) and sat out on our porch watching the waves.
In distance we saw a large pig ambling around, slowly making his way toward us. Suddenly we realized he was not meandering, he was running...directly toward us. Clearly this pig wanted something, probably our food. We scrambled to collect our valuable food, and closed ourselves inside our sliding door. The pig pressed it's huge nose against the door, smearing it on the clean glass...We felt trapped inside the beautiful beachhouse.
"Is this seriously happening?" my husband mournfully asked.
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