One year to this day, just before midnight NZ time (which is right now in Vancouver) I walked into the flat that would be my home for the next 9 months in Dunedin, New Zealand.
Time passes pretty quickly sometimes – for a while I thought my time in New Zealand would stretch on forever, then suddenly, as with all good things, it came to an abrupt end and I was back on a plane bound for Asia once more.
The problem with physics is that particles, behaving like waves, can exist in two places at the same time. Unfortunately, people cannot.
On the 23rd, three of us went to the tattoo parlour. One of us got a tattoo. It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Anna. That leaves Vania.
Anna drove us to Dig A Tattoo, where Vania had an appointment for 330pm.
The dude printed out a copy of her tattoo and went into his ‘office’ to prepare a stencil (it’s really an ink transfer… sort of like a temporary tattoo to guide the tattoo man’s needle).
After some waiting, the three of us went in to the room. First Mr Tattoo guy cleaned the foot.
Then he applied the stencil thing.
Then he set up his ink needle.
Then he started tracing those lines very, very carefully.
Anna spent the first half hour holding Vania’s hand, and I took the second shift. Turns out I got the worse half of the deal, as the tattoo became more painful toward the end. I tried taking a photo of my hand with the white marks where it was being squeezed, but it didn’t turn out.
The finished product: