Angelito🤍

Ange and I being cute in Akaroa. He was very excited to go to the bakery, A la baguette. It did not disappoint.

I’ve gone and done that horrible thing where you get a boyfriend and disappear.

His name is Ange, Angelito to friends, and he is lovely.

Our first dates were polite discussions at Fork and Tap. Then we went to Milford Sound in our respective vans for a fourth date. A week and a half later, we moved in together in the suburbs.

I know. It’s crazy. It’s been so fun.

Neither of us has lived with a partner before. I love how we take care of each other. He cooks, I do the dishes. I wash the laundry, he hangs it to dry. I wipe down counters, he takes out trash. Domestic bliss. We take turns buying groceries. It’s easy. We don’t keep score. We tease incessantly.

On Sundays, I make breakfast (German pancakes) while he watches Paris play whoever. He makes us quiche and crepes for dinner. We eat our meals in courses and *heaven forbid* I skip ahead. We say “bisou” instead of “goodbye,” and “oh la la” (low tone of voice) when exasperated. He purses his lips in response to a million things (a very French trait), and I’ve caught myself doing the same.

On the weekends, we alternate between travel and chill. So far, we’ve skydived at Mount Cook, helicoptered at Franz Josef Glacier, cruised Milford Sound, and explored Christchurch. On lazy weekends, we frequent French bakeries and share copious amounts of pain au chocolat, almond croissants, and canelé.

We never announced at work that we became a couple. We didn’t publicize anything, but didn’t hide it either. It was the most natural transition into relationship-hood that I’ve ever had.

I love the element of play in our relationship. I didn’t realize I’d been craving it. This has been a beautiful, unexpected curve in my story. Farewell for now, Ange and I are going to eat a three-course home-cooked meal and watch a nature documentary after.

Happy travels,

Allaira

Wake up views outside of Mount Cook.

Sitting in the splash zone of our Milford Sound cruise. Milford Sound is the real-world equivalent of Jurassic Park. I recommend it.

The tablescape for a 50th birthday party I served at work. A kind Australian man and 25 of his loved ones.

A garden party at Sally’s house.

Charlie is a very, very skiddish dog. The fact that he warmed up to us enough for us to cuddle him was huge.

Views of New Zealand’s west coast as seen over its Southern Alps. We took a ski plane to Franz Joseph Glacier and then a helicopter back.

Sitting pretty on Franz Joseph Glacier.

Midway up the Sealy Tarns track. Ange said it was an “easy hike” (it was not an easy hike).

Ange, doing his best impression of a lupin.

A very happy French man.

Our cute little ski plane.