Day 25/26 - Flying Halfway Around the World

The first leg, Auckland-Brunei, is ok - even manage to get some sleep having taken the "stay up really late" approach. We're sitting out the 10 hour stopover in Brunei with the help of a free 1.5 hour tour of Brunei, which goes in a couple of hours. Be right back...

Tour done. The morning was filled with, um, writing some of this, watching Ingerland finally defeat Egypt 3-1 at Wemberly, which event so gripped a number of Indians or Bangla Deshis that they had to be chivvied to their flight. We also had teas and buns upstairs in "The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf", a pretty standard hot beverage ad buns facility. I changed NZD to Brunei $ to do this, which later proved to have been a Good Thing.

About 13.00 we went over and stood by the Transfer desk to be collected for the Free Trip, an assortment of people, including an Anglo lady and Anglo/NZ lady who when talking together generated vast amounts of angst about their lives and minor discomforts. Jack? was our tour guide for the trip, and he started right off with the 36 degree temperature. Exiting the airport it felt ok-ish, but then when you stepped out from under the canopy, the full weight hit you. Dense, suffocating tropical heat, that you wear like a heavy blanket or a greatcoat. Felt good!

Anyway the trip was quite fun, we just zoomed around a few of the comedy typically Sultanate-type buildings with Jack throwing in minor jokes and telling us about various aspects of Brunei life, especially the "free house for gov't workers" stuff and the cheap petrol and Jap cars. The travelling done, the rest of the time was spent at a local mall and food place - since I'd already changed some dollars we were in good shape. The mall stuff was ok, lots of touristy souvenir materials, and some more practical everyday stuff too, like Man Utd stickers ;-).


The food court was much more like it, fantastic smells, I didn't know where to start. So, like all beginners, I went for a place with the food pictures. This turned out to be Thai food, run by a very nice lady who was in fact Thai, married to a Malay guy who was also there. It also turned out to be her first time doing this, her first day on the job in their stall! Jen and I watched her prepare the food - fascinating and not very complicated. She waved a spoon of chili mix at me and asked if that was enough - "yes" is the only reply of the terminally unconfident but easily embarrassed and emasculated in such circumstances, so that was what she got. This was in the prawn salad, Tom Yang? - $3. And yes, it was pretty hot but the prawns were very tasty and I haven't died yet. Lucky eh? There were tomato slices, basil, onions and some other kind of stalky veg, possibly coriander. Truly yummy, with a sourness and flavour that really set off the prawns. Even Jen enjoyed a test prawn! And then Jack and the others wandered out, so I had to finish it up quickly, grabbing a can of jasmine iced green tea ($1) on the way. Clearly lots to be discovered in a culinary sense here…

So what of Brunei? Seems like a pretty typical monarchy, king says "do this" or "do that: and people do! It's a 600 year old setup, so people are pretty ingrained with it, especially the Sultan I suspect. They have a new Parliament building, but for the life of me I can't see what they'd be talking about, if the boss does most of the disposition. And it turns out that the Brits saved the monarchy in the 60s when there was some kind of revolution attempt. Hmm. 

The last two sections of the trip - Brunei-Dubai-London are just long long long... Jen remarks that she's not going to complain about the day trip to Toronto again! A mixture of disturbed sleep and relentless playing of MahJongg on the ship's computer gets me through once the book runs out, interspersed with food. Bleuch. 

And it's Heathrow, and waiting for luggage, and brrr - it's cold! The bus trip reveals nothing except that there are roadworks on the M4, and the taxi driver from the station is incredibly random. The house is cold, looks abandoned despite the kids' efforts to tidy up... 

Day 24 - The Last Stretch

Had a walk to the dam and back, and around the rowing areas last night - lots of high school boys waving boats around. The dam was started in 1940, finished in '47, and the diagram is pretty impressive - you wouldn't want to fall in right by the dam side, because it pretty much sucks all the water in and dumps it through the turbines, and example of which is on a pedestal outside the under-construction Community Activity Centre. We also discovered that this is the location for the World Rowing Champs, 27/10-10/11/2010 - in which case, where will they all stay?? I guess Cambridge and Hamilton will be pretty busy, not to speak of the road in here and the potential discomfiture of the residents. 

There was only us and another van on the site last night, so no rush for the showers. These are pretty effective, and since I have the place all to myself, cavort around wildly unclothed. What else would you do?? This is our last breakfast in the van, so the porridge is fairly sparse, with not very much fruit. Jen's busy sorting things out, I make a stab at repacking my case and guessing what I'll be needing later. 

The road towards Cambridge and Hamilton is not very eventful, this is bigtime dairy country and very wealthy it would seem. There's coal here too, as the big power station outside Hamilton attests. There's also a huge dried milk plant, that basically swallows the entire output of the local area and coughs out milk solids. Handy. it also raises the value of the basic foodstuff locally, which is good for the NZ economy. Pretty ugly atomic reactor type building though! Not everything is like that - the wall separating the railway from the road in town has a nifty kind of wave graphic built into it, which is cool.

BUt we're not here for the milk, we're here for the smoked eels!! North of Hamilton is Te Kauwhata, specifically Rata St, and we turn off - it's a surprisingly long way from Hamilton, and fairly close to Auckland. Good news for future purchases. The by now familiar roadworks, with guys operating Stop/Go signs in the village - we go through and find Rata St. However, no sign of the NZ Eel Processing Co - a number of in-use, new or empty warehouse type places, and at the end of the road is a Waste Transfer facility. Hmm, maybe when I called last night and got the voicemail announcement "Hi, this is Walt, I guess we're busy right now, leave your number and we'll get back to you" I should have left a message, since maybe they're out of business??

As we get back near the top of the road I spot a van logoed with NZ Eel Processing - looking good! The office is pretty informal, no other signs announcing their presence. I go in - Dale's there! Nice young guy… "can I buy smoked eel?" - "sure, how much do you want?" - "what units can you do it in?" - "kilos" - "I'll have a couple please" - "wanna see the plant?" - "of course!". So we get to meet Stu and the other processors, the big smoking chambers (different for eel, mussels and salmon), and even, when there's some doubt about the actual availability of eel, bump into a freshly smoked group of them, hanging like mottled leather strips from their rack. The deal is done, a 2kg batch with ice is packed in a poly box, and we're off, equipped with a price list for future reference. Really nice people. They do contract smoking too (like beagles??), so there's a guy who brings his batches of salmon, gets it smoked, takes it away and sells it at farmer's markets and suchlike.

The village has a reasonable-looking cafe, so we get a hit of coffee (or chocolate) and some buns, and browse the Auckland paper. A big deal inquest under way in respect of a 17 year old shot by a stray bullet in the apprehension of a shotgun-toting nutter. Sad story, incredibly unfortunate combination of circumstances. Hopefully not for us…

There's still lots of time before we need to be back in Auck, so maybe time for a detour… If we follow the Te Kauwhata road east, it heads out to meet Hwy2 and 20, and the coast. Yeah, let's do it! We can do some lunch there too. It turns out that around Miranda, the little town out there, is a major bird sanctuary for godwits and the like. The beach on the Firth of Thames is totally unspoilt, no campsites or anything - a few campers dotted along the edge of the beach, free-camping, but that's all. The beach is pure shell on mud - chatting to a Brit immigrant couple of 35 years standing, there's flounder out there, along with the usual snapper and stuff. They've got a larger camper with towable car just up the beach and, surprisingly, have never been to the South Island! Rectifying that when her sister comes apparently, this year. Good. They should. 

Lunch is a boiled egg sandwich with lettuce, tomato, humus and a bit of salami for spice. It's wonderfully quiet, peaceful, expansive. So it's with regret we pack away the stuff for the last time. We admit to each other that we were both focussed on getting into Auckland, getting the van back, getting on with the Next Thing, and this stop has slowed us down and made it a proper trip again. Which is good, and bad - why leave?? This is so good.

Up Hwy 2, Hwy 1, the "real" motorway into Auckland, turn off at 453 Takanini. The BP station does diesel and LPG - only 3kg used, and I strongly suspect it wasn't actually full when we got it, because we've only used 1.6 in the last 2+ weeks, when we really started using it. The Maori LPG-filling-kiddie chats about rugby, especially England's latest loss to Ireland - sewn up, 5 mins to go, ahead after a JW drop goal, and Ireland score a try! Typical.

Rog the Dodgy van purveyor appears in a Merc Vito people carrier as we roll up. A cursory check on the van, we transfer our possessions to the Vito. Thanks and goodbye, BRG919 - you'll have a new owner soon I expect! Interesting to compare it to the new ones he has - they are the new Ducato, longer, wider, squarer, so they've gone for a larger table/bed in the back, with the kitchen/loo towards the front. Lots more space, especially for cases! That would have been handy. Likes to chat, this guy, and it continues into Auckland - used to surf and windsurf lots, has a couple of secret spots over Gisborne way for next time, just bought a large RV in Arizona which he'll keep for 10 years, does mountain biking now, lots of info on RVs generally. The roads aren't too crowded, and although he uses the GPS, I think I'd have been able to find my way unaided. 

Daniel's in to help with the luggage, and his sister, staying for 2-3 weeks with hubby and 2 of her sons, Mischa 8 and Jascha 6. Lots of talk about the trip, which pretty much goes on all night, through the smoked eel starter (Jen likes this!!), the excellent Moroccan Lamb dinner, red and white wine, the just-picked peaches caramelised with rum and brown sugar and the definitive locating of the Southern Cross using a program Sergei eventually manages to install on his Linux notebook.   We even fit in, at Daniel's insistence, a mid-prandial neighbourhood stroll, which is very pleasant, cool, ageing moon, stars, the kids bouncing around unleashed, desultory chat, the local Russian Orthodox church-barn-shed, huge bamboo plants, wild avocados, predatory cats. Auckland has a cool taxi-ordering service - they know your land line number location, so you just have to speak the time you want it and it's booked! We're all getting sleepy when the taxi arrives at 2 am - gulp, and it's goodbyes and see-you-agains and thank-yous and and and…

Day 23 - Through the Desert and into Waikato

Woke up at 7 exactly, overcast, rained in the night but obviously so gently it didn't wake me up. We were both awake, so time for breakfast, as we were keen to get started on the day's travelling. Nice showers here - like a separate room, with its own sink and mirror, and loads of free hot water with a 5 minute timer so you don't go too mad. Jen pointed out that next door had an empty voddie bottle in the recycling when I said I wasn't sure there was anyone there - images of couple passed out in the large RV (with towed Suzuki jeep thing), eeeaauuuwww. 

We started out on Hwy 1, but there was a lot of consideration given to the route thereafter, basically east or west of Lake Taupo. We'd kind of done east previously, at least partly, but it looked like an easier route, so we stuck with Hwy 1. This actually took us the other side of the Togariro National Park, so we had an entirely different view of the volcanoes this time. In fact, this side, you travel on the Desert Road, so-called because the entire plateau, about 800m about sea level, is a blasted heath, quite literally - the Rangipo Desert. it's covered in horrible scrub and has lots of bare and lifeless looking areas, so whilst not really a desert, it certainly feels like one. Thus we weren't really surprised that Mt Ngauruhoe was Mount Doom in TLotR, with the surroundings being "Plains of Gorgoroth", it looks pretty forbidding! Just before that it's pretty much like Dartmoor, and has the same handy use i.e. the army get in there and blast away at each other, with forbidding "Don't Even THINK About Entering This Area" signs all over the place. There also a museum at Waiouru, with the army base, and that looks pretty forbidding too, like a grey concrete fortress that reminds me of nothing more promising than the device assembly building in an unnamed nuclear weapons facility. Nice. 

Fortunately this is preceded by Taihape, the Gumboot Throwing Capital of the World, along with its giant welly statue and the opportunity to practise for yourself - we declined the offer. So we had at least had a smile on our faces before entering the Forbidden Zone!

Stopped for coffee at Turangi, a busy cafe with great coffee and some interesting buns. A pair of these was possessed by the statuesque waitress, named, according to the tag on her top, "Chubs" - she must have been 2m tall, with a topknot as well, so clearly no reservations about her height! It's the Trout Fishing Capital of the World too, as well as being the Chunky Waitress Capital of the World. 

From there we retraced our early steps past Lake Taupo, but neither of us could see any resemblance to the last time! Either we're really forgetful, or it just looked different going the other way (different views in fact) or last time was early in the morning and we didn't really take it in. Taupo looked much the same, but less busy. we just kept heading north up Hwy 1, stopping at Tirau for an ice-cream and to check out the honey shop and the jewellery shop, or at least Jen did. The Tirau info centre is in a corrugated iron pig, with the shops in a similarly constructed sheep. There was more evidence of corrugated iron art also, which probably makes Tirau the Corrugated Iron Sculpture Capital of the World. Damn, and I thought Katikati was the originator of this fascinating art movement.

We've stopped in Karapiro, beside the lake, just down from the dam, which has to be crossed to get to the village and site. There are loads of very classy baches here, some of enormous size, with views across the lake and so on. The lake itself is incredibly long - apparently Donald Campbell's daughter captured the Ladies' Water Speed Record on it, with a 1500hp hydroplane. It's probably 20 km long, very thin, largely because it's the result of a dammed river. It also gets used for rowing competitions, and there's a careful explanation of the road rules in the leaflet, including "waterskis go anti-clockwise". Jen's packed her case to save doing it tomorrow, I suppose I'd better do something like that, at least get my wetsuit bagged up and fitted in. Poo. All brings it a bit closer…

Last night I dreamt about work, or at least, some people from work, and the general tone was of work i.e. some awareness of things to be done, stuff to be concerned about, interactions with people on a work basis. Otherwise it was a relatively good sleep, I didn't really wake up much. I guess my brain is getting itself into gear! it would be very interesting to have a six month travel around here, to see how much I got out of the habit. We've barely scratched the surface, as they say, so much to do here. Every place I go past I want to go and see, but don't - hell I don't fish, but signs indicating "good fishing place" are soooo tempting! And that's without any of the "artificial" things, like jet boating, river rafting and so on. I wonder when I'll come back, and how much of these things will I do? Perhaps next time we'll book some things ahead of time, but this is a good time of year to come. With a six month trip you could go snowboarding too, with a couple of heli-drops thrown in… wow, that would be nice!

Day 22 - Back to The North Island

This morning we called Liz on Skype to her mobile - turns out that Jen's Aunt Mary died about a week ago. She'd fallen and broken her hip, had it mended/replaced, seemed to be doing really well, gone home, was up about 2 am playing cards with her daughter Margaret who left her sitting up in bed doing word puzzles… and was still there the next morning, stone dead. Probably a heart attack and clearly not too hard on her (other than being dead), but an autopsy required, funeral Tuesday, so Jen won't make it. Shucks. We had, in Liz's words, "disappeared off the face of the planet" at just the wrong time. Thinking back, that was when we went up to Pudding Hill Lodge, no internet etc. and then on to Lake Clearwater, no phone or 'net, until Friday night. Wow, it WAS four days. Jen clearly moved but happy that it was not too stressful for her, and happy for Margaret who won't have to look after her later in life, and pleased she'd seen her not too long ago. 

Not too far to drive today, only Nelson to Picton, and a late-ish start. However, not so late that when we saw a nice looking bakery/cafe we didn't both think "hmm, nice to stop for a coffee and cake in a bit". However, we didn't then see anything until we got to bloody Picton, 140 km later! The road was very cool though - the side road direct to Picton, log Queen Charlotte Sound, all bends and up/downs, massive views across the fiords, hard work but worth it. You stumble upon Picton almost by accident - a view down into the "town" (pop'n 4000!) affords a sight of hundreds or maybe thousands of stacked logs, in tidy rows of neat squares, waiting to be loaded and taken somewhere to be pulped or whatever. 

Picton IS a small town, but lots of people moving through it constantly. We stopped at the Picton Bakkerij, with handy Drive-Thru, est'd 1981, to get buns and coffee - great buns, not very special machine coffee. They also do pies, apparently they're in the Lonely Planet Guide for this, including the Morroccan Marlborough Lamb special, of which they unfortunately had none today. Run out of lambs I guess… :-d A very lively bunch of sparrows at the tables too, highly amusing and well-cartoonable.

We still had a couple of hours to spare, so stooged around, looking in the Info place which was packed with people newly off the boats, asking lots of newbie questions about what to do where and when, and also with some brilliant postcards for 50c - a good deal if you ever need NZ cards! We also went in the park, sitting around outside a backpacker place while I did some email and stuff with one of the many wifi accounts I now have. Eventually it was time to check-in, so Jen stood up and immediately almost fell over, having stopped the blood in her leg sitting on the wall, and having no feeling in it! Soon remedied though…

We did however buy pies for lunch before we left - a chicken and camembert for her, and a steak n bacon for me. These were well good as we sat waiting for the boat to load. One of the queuing vehicles was undergoing repairs - a man lying underneath it with a set of tools, cans etc. There were bikers again but relatively tame, beardy BMW-types rather than the HD angel-alikes from the previous trip, and far fewer. Guess the chapter had to get into work today…

This is feeling a bit formulaic at the moment - the boat trip was really easy, very very flat, much flatter than last time, we had coffee, took pictures, laughed at two 20yr old guys and two 10yr old boys, both groups did exactly the same cheesy Titanic thing with the skinny bit of deck and were embarrassed by us looking at them, different older boat, far fewer people generally. Tottenham 2- 1 Everton also. Jen bought a NZ-logo cap, looks ok, and some glass gifts for Anne. We sat outside and switched sides to vary the wind/diesel relationship occasionally. No obvious signs of exotic wildlife, other than maybe a couple of Maori guys and an Asian lady trying to sleep under a crazily coloured towel with her book on her face.

Wellington looked almost familiar, and it's strange how at home we feel now compared with the last time we came through here. So much has happened, have we changed? I happily do 110, tailgating the next guy in the fast lane, competing for space in the Wellingtonian rush hour. The highway is an urban motorway, flanked by industrial units and suchlike - we could be anywhere! But we aren't…

Keen to make some time up before the slog of tomorrow, we press on north, reaching Levin to stay at the Levin Motor Camp. It's a tidy spot. Yesterday I craved pizza, so today we get Pizza Hut pizza with garlic bread, and eat it with beer back at the van. Tastes ok, but I wanted stone-baked, wood fired… should have gone to Italy then. It'll be bed time soon, one holiday sleep less, boo.

Day 21 - Abel Tasman Tours and Nelson Gets Wind

Today? Surprising. Went for a run about 730, which was ok, sun low, misty start but burning off rapidly, some people but not a lot about. Ran back up the beach, back towards the main road, but couldn't cross between main Kaiteriteri beach and Little Kaiteriteri - the tide was too high and only rocks. However, there turned out to be a path over the bluff, usual thing for here, a mix of hard gradient and steps. I ran up, all the way along the little beach to the end and the big sticky-up rock at the end, where I did some stretches and then ran back. Spoke briefly to an early morning fisherman - apparently very quiet but it gets him up in the morning!

I was considering our best course of action for the day. I had passed the Abel Tasman Sea Shuttle booth on the way out - we'd checked their literature last night, but hand' really grasped how the boat timings worked etc. Since on the way back from the run I noticed there was someone there, I stopped to ask him, and things got clearer. Basically, you buy an out and return from whichever points you want, and move between them how you will, all in the otherwise inaccessible Abel Tasman National Park. Sounds good, but can I raise Jen to get the 9.00?? I jogged home, to find her up, bed sorted, but not there. I started getting breakfast - she turned out to be on a loo trip, and thought that the boat + walk trip would be marv. I'd kind of settled on a simple loop, about an hour, rather than the alternative 11km walk, from Anchorage up to the Peak Head and round via another beach, then get the boat back. So that's what we did. 

The boats are pretty cool, they have an extending gangway off the front of the (jet-powered?) aluminium catamaran, which comfortably reaches the beach so you don't get your feet wet. We moved from the campsite to the nearby carpark, bought tickets and off we went! Various people on the boat - a couple doing the longer walk (he had a horrifying combover), a couple with a very young baby, maybe 18months because she was walking, and a pair of young ladies who were doing a run! The boat didn't go directly, instead stopped at Split Apple Rock initially as a taster, pointed out where the girl would be picked up, and then round the corner to Anchorage. It felt strange being dropped off, almost like an adventure! The baby couple got off too. 

We walked down the beach, signposted handily for the Peak Head loop, and found that there are cabins and campsites, and lots of people staying over. This would be quite fun I think, I'm sure it's extremely quiet! There are loos, but no cooking stuff, and all local water has to be boiled. We plodded up the steep path to the Head, overtaken by a couple of young ladies, and appreciating the musical sound of the bellbird - we saw at least one, but they are hard to spot in the trees. The view from the head is pretty classic - golden beach (high iron content granite apparently), shading to blue sea, lots of green cover. 

The head walk loops down through a beach on the other side of the head from Anchorage, so we had another view in a few minutes. On the way down I found a Swatch, which although I was initially tempted to keep, figured that it was some kind of karmic thing with my glasses, so I hung it on a tree to be easy to spot. A few minutes later the young ladies who'd passed us earlier made their way back up - maybe one of them dropped it. Who knows? The beach was absolutely gorgeous - a tropical cream in the flesh (or rock!). A couple was packing away their tent *so you can stay there as well, blimey!), and some others were on the beach, drying clothes, eating etc. in the hot sun. Magic. 

So we headed back up the loop, climbed back over the ridge and arrived back at Anchorage - a man ran up in the opposite direction as we did. We still had just under a n hour left before the boat came, so figured we'd walk to Watering Cove, supposedly 25 minutes away. Now this WAS a steep climb!! After an initial flat section, and a gentle gradient, it just took off - and the path itself was much more rudimentary than the other one. A long hard slog uphill, broken by one flatter bit, before we reached the crest. Then the descent - at which point Running Man overtook us on the descent again, going in the same direction! Blimey. Eventually Jen decided that she didn't want to risk not being able to clim back up fast enough to make the boat, so she started to head back while I went on down. The cove itself was lovely, with a large standing rock out to sea, and a couple of kayaks and their operators readying themselves to leave. Running Man meanwhile had put on a life vest and was about to leave in his own kayak! Wow. Made me feel dead.

Just to show I could, I jog back up the hill as best I could - there were lots of roots and rocks, which would have slowed Jen a lot. At one point I wondered if I would catch my toe on a root and pitch down the hillside, never to be seen again, unmourned, unmissed! Nope, didn't happen. Jen wasn't at the highest point as I'd expected, so I caught up with her on the downhill. We made it back with a nominal 15 minutes to spare!

The boat back was pretty relaxed, not many people, only the baby couple, who/d also been waiting on the beach with us. Their daughter had been squealing and jumping in the sea edge, getting her nappy wet, eventually falling over and giggling with pleasure. Very cute. One runner girl appeared at an intermediate stop - she had to blag her way on because her mate had the ticket, and had run on for another 3km to another place. 

A leisurely lunch in the car park (how British! Should have got out the picnic table, except it would probably have collapsed, defo not to be trusted with one's grub), and then we rolled off to look for somewhere else for the night. An interesting event, well, kinda, occurred at the gas station - the cashlady asked me for $35, when I asked for pump 14, so I questioned it - "no, 35", so I paid. Went out, checked the pump, defo 58! Now an old yellow Toyota Hiace-based camper had pulled up and used pump 13, a kind of punchy guy got out and a very tall skinny NZ type lady filled up. She was still in the kiosk, so I went back and questioned the amount - yup, hers was $35 and she'd been charged 58! So I gave her $23 cos I'm a nice guy and  now feel good about myself :-)

We made our way round to Nelson, lots more fruit and grapes and stuff growing, the road by the coast most of the way. Nelson fairly unprepossessing, Richmond is pretty much a suburb rather than a separate town, and we were looking for the Tahunanui (Tahuna - something, nui - big, so Nobanui would be just what you'd think…) Beach campsite… which we eventually found down the end of Beach Road. This is a huge place, like, really big, hundreds of sites, with two helpful ladies in reception. We picked a spot, it was 3 o' clockish, an easy day, shaded, flat, seemed ok. However, after a couple of beers, and some lunch-replacing snacks, we decided to take a look around as it was very windy, quite chilly even given the sun's heat. I found a whole extra campsite, over to the west, and we moved over there to a much more sheltered spot which was instantly warmer. Good call. In the process of moving, we met an Ozzified Kiwi, moved there 40 years ago, looking for his son and g-daughter who were walking around. We now know he is a partially-retired builder, born-again, gets $1100 fortnightly pension, doesn't vote Labour, and felt the spirit move in him yesterday at the local Pentecostal church. Then we went for a walk on the beach, well, beach, it was/is an estuarial inlet, with sand and kind of alluvial mud underfoot, requiring jumping across a small stream to get away from our bit. About a mile away, the Tasman Bay ocean roared, not quite to itself, some kitesurfers were evident, dogwalkers etc. So we trudged into the wind and found the real beach, crossed another river and wet our toes in the sea, before turning back into the sunset and strolling homeward. 

Supper - Jen wasn't feeling too good so she only had rice, whilst I had some more of the smoked chicken with broccoli and gouk-fried rice. The guy next door (closest, about 25m away!) was from Seattle, and I met him on the way back from the washing up. On their way shortly to Oz, East coast for 5 weeks, having spent maybe 2 in NZ. I told him he must be mad, since Oz is full of things that want to kill you, whereas NZ is just marvellous and there's plenty to do in 5 weeks! Ah well… Also met Jess in the kitchen, a young lady who asked me about the safety or otherwise of the oily guck in the grillpan - this morning she announced that the roast potatoes tasted fine, real good, so clearly no problem there. Phew. She and Hannah didn't need to be ill.

And before we went to bed, the beach turned into a real beach!! High tide had arrived… quite a bit of water movement involved there methinks. The only trauma was discovering our house had developed a leak in a toilet, and Liz was handling it. We texted her so she could read it when she got up, and then got a text back about midnight, while we were in bed asleep. Some texts later, she also asked if Jen could call her sometime soon. Hmm. That's a worry… and Jen worried about this all night I know. I was just wondering how the damn cistern got cracked! G'night.