Embarking on the cruising lifestyle, we left San Francisco having sold our home, most of its contents and vehicles. We left stable, well-paying jobs. We sailed away from the providers of basic service providers we knew and loved – doctors, dentists, auto mechanics, cleaners, coffee shops and haircutters to name a few. For me, the separation anxiety was strongest in the hair department.
The thought of getting a haircut from anyone other than Michelle at Yosh, my haircutter for over 10 years, left me going for months without getting my hair cut. Somewhere in Mexico, I decided getting my hair cut in resort towns was the best way to go. People with money come to resort towns, so the best hair stylists would want to be well-paid hair stylists in resort towns. This worked well in Puerto Vallarta. In Barra de Navidad, another beautiful resort town on Mexico’s west coast, I ventured a haircut at the fancy five star resort with less success. The friendly young girl managed to cut herself pretty severely which put me a little on edge for the remainder of the haircut. My theory worked well in Tahiti – no blood, decent haircut. Over the past five years, my theory shows a success factor of around 80% good haircuts in resort towns and 20% scary haircuts. Not too bad.
A few weeks ago, we arrived in Opua with both of us ready for haircuts. Opua is great for marine services, but lacks other types of services including a hair salon. The nearest place for a cut is Pahia, a resort town in the Bay of Islands, which is ~7 km (4 miles) from Opua. Rather than spend the money on a taxi, we chose to walk the coastal track to Pahia. Fellow cruisers estimated the walk to take around an hour from Opua to Pahia. Vague memories of walking this track back in 2004 indicated the walk was more like two hours. Appointments at 11:00 and 11:15 am. Only partially jokingly, I requested the better stylist since my hair is more challenging to cut.
Departing Opua at 9:00 am, Duncan led with me fast on his heels. About 45 minutes into the hike, a helicopter flew overhead and I glanced up to take a peek. “Eek”. Duncan turned around to find me hanging off the seaside cliff with hands on the trail and feet dug into the side of the cliff. “I could use a hand”. Duncan pulled me back on the trail and I started to dust myself off. Looking back on the trail, we spotted the source of my misstep. A tree root stuck up 3 inches like a spear head protruding from the earth.
With only minimal damage to hands, knees and legs, we continued on the trail to Pahia. My pace was not as zippy as before and the possibility of *not* making the 11:00 appointment started to look like a probability. An hour and a half into the hike, we spotted a holiday park and decided to ring for a taxi to ensure we made our appointments on time. Within minutes, the taxi arrived and zipped us off to the salon. Right on time. Phew.
Two customers were in various states of “hair-doing”. One person was working on each customer. Proudly on time, we entered the salon on time and informed them of our names and appointments. “Have a seat, it will be just a minute”, the older lady said. A few minutes later, the older lady said “Sorry to keep you waiting, I’ll take Duncan first. He should only take 5 minutes”. Tee Hee – she must be joking. Good thing I get the other lady. Spritz, Spritz went the water bottle. Snip, Snip, Yank, Yank, Snip. Faster than Edward Scissorhands carved animals out of hedges, Duncan was up and out of the chair.
“Sorry to keep you waiting”, the same lady said to me 7 minutes after we entered the salon. I was in shock and Duncan was surprised I had not run out of the salon. My mind sped along thinking surely that was just the cheapo, zippo man haircut. Mine will take at least a half an hour. In actuality, mine lasted only 10 minutes purely due to shampooing my hair, checking on one of the customer’s perm roller thingies and instructing the other worker how to blow dry the other customer’s hair.
Seventeen minutes after arriving in Pahia, we were out on the street with wet hair, $65 NZD less in Duncan’s pocket and shocked looks on our faces. Perhaps my resort town haircut theory is starting to fail us. We shall see. Next hair cut – Fiji.
