Moving on ...
I left Nelson at 0915 enjoying a typical balmy golden day & have arrived
in Blenheim which is what ? - 100k away amidst a howling gale & grey skies. Murray !!!!!
Because we were unable to horse-ride yesterday, I have arranged with Murray
that I will call in at his on Sunday on my way back north. It made leaving
this morning slightly easier, as it was 'See you again' rather than 'Goodbye'.
I found myself at a bit of a loss for how to say ...
'Thank you for the hospitality, the use of your computer for hours on end,
for letting me sleep in your van, eat your food, use your hot-water, borrow
your dog, your bike, your buggy, your kite & oh yes - sorry for crashing your
kites into your van, when it was the only man-made object for 10 acres'
I hope you got the gist.
The sad thing is, I can't imagine you ever wanting to visit Kingston-upon-Thames
for me to repay the hospitality. And I don't blame you either.
I have 5 hours to kill before pitching up at Mal's & when I left Nelson
it was with the idea of reading a book in a sun-dappled park somewhere.
I can't do much in the way of looking around, partly because I know Blenheim
very well & partly because I am being followed by a small, rectangular,
purple thing.
Note to Blenheim town designers, pavements with mosaic tiles look very pretty
but if you're pulling a case on wheels, the noise starts to pi55 you off
pretty quick.
I spoke to Mal last night on the phone, he made me laugh by asking
'Is that it ? Are you here for good now ?'
I explained about the whole emigration thing & reminded him I'd said I was
looking at a 3 year time scale for returning. He was very put out to hear
I'll be going h, ho, h, nope can't say it but you know where, next week.
'Seems like 3 years' he said.
Although I'd love to go to the farm today to see Mike & the animals, I'm
in no hurry as I understand the kids have broken up & are at home,
not to mention the one that doesn't get mentioned. It's a tricky one.
I'm being charged $2 per 15 minutes for this, so I'll sign off for now.
I don't know how regularly I'll be able to get to an Internet Cafe over
the next few days, so take it easy everyone & I'll catch up with you soon.
Cx
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Monday, November 29, 2004
Recipe for Baked Pom(me de terre)
Take one unfit Pom.
Add lashings of Kiwi midday sun.
No sunscreen (it's in the van that Murray took to work.)
No water, guess where the bottle is ? That's right, in the van.
Add a hard mountain bike ride up Teal Valley & simmer gently for 3 hours.
This is where I went.
This is what you can do
This is what you cant - oh well, can't have it all, I suppose.
This is what I saw ...
This is who came with me.
Self-pity & exhaustion prevented me from reaching the top of the valley,
so I don't know how far I got, except to say it was 90 minutes of hard riding
to get there & 15 minutes of no pedalling to get back.
Just at the point of the bridge outside Murray's I realised I no longer
had my camera with me. Bugger. Fully expecting Kaycee to wait where she was
I set off on the bike at a sprint, worried that if I'd dropped the camera on
the last kilometre or so of track that a car may squash it.
It was with absolute astonishment that I looked around at the gate to the
forest to see the stumpy one, legs-a-churning, trying to keep up with me.
'There's a voice, keeps on calling me...'
Luckily, I found the camera, undamaged, on the track about a 20 minute ride away.
To reward Kaycee for dragging her back & forth in the sun we dropped in at the
part of the stream she likes to dive for stones & we spent a very pleasant 20
minutes playing this ...
Then to dry off, we killed these ...
Pine cones are actually hedgehogs in disguise & must be dispatched without mercy.
As I finish this post, it's 1453 & there is a very fresh breeze, I can think
of at least one person who'll be itching to leave work & use it.
Cx
Take one unfit Pom.
Add lashings of Kiwi midday sun.
No sunscreen (it's in the van that Murray took to work.)
No water, guess where the bottle is ? That's right, in the van.
Add a hard mountain bike ride up Teal Valley & simmer gently for 3 hours.
Turn left from Murray's house & it's a 3 minute cycle ride.
Self-pity & exhaustion prevented me from reaching the top of the valley,
so I don't know how far I got, except to say it was 90 minutes of hard riding
to get there & 15 minutes of no pedalling to get back.
Just at the point of the bridge outside Murray's I realised I no longer
had my camera with me. Bugger. Fully expecting Kaycee to wait where she was
I set off on the bike at a sprint, worried that if I'd dropped the camera on
the last kilometre or so of track that a car may squash it.
It was with absolute astonishment that I looked around at the gate to the
forest to see the stumpy one, legs-a-churning, trying to keep up with me.
Luckily, I found the camera, undamaged, on the track about a 20 minute ride away.
To reward Kaycee for dragging her back & forth in the sun we dropped in at the
part of the stream she likes to dive for stones & we spent a very pleasant 20
minutes playing this ...
Then to dry off, we killed these ...
As I finish this post, it's 1453 & there is a very fresh breeze, I can think
of at least one person who'll be itching to leave work & use it.
Cx
Happy Birthday Barley Marley - 6 today.
It's 0832, Murray's gone to work & left me home alone - where are those matches ?
I plan to take his mountain bike (it's ok, I asked) & head up the Teal Valley
with the stumpy one to see what we can find.
This evening, we plan to do the Sundowner horse ride at Stonehurst Farm,
I'm hoping the weather will be clear, if so, expect sunset shots on CoffeeWaffle.
I was too tired to Blog last night when Murray had downloaded his shots the
conversation went ;
M ; Ok, the photos are done, if you want to use them for your Blog.
B ; No, you Blog.
M ; No, you Blog.
B ; No, you etc etc
In the end he compromised by posting the pics on his site & providing the
world's shortest commentary, not even captioning the photos. 7 hours of
walking, talking & seeing, squeezed into 5 photos & 3 lines of text.
I could never manage it.
If you haven't gone back over Q4A in the last couple of days, may I invite you
to do so now ? I will be inserting Welly pics & more random ones from the last
3 days, so go take a look, see what you missed 1st time around.
Whilst I'm on that subject, if you get time, go check out the pics of Alice
horse-riding again & see if you can see what prompted me to laugh out loud
last night. That'll never make it past the firewall at work.
Yesterday, we had the world's laziest Sunday morning, which lasted until
almost 1500 then headed off to Abel Tasman Park, which I missed 1st
time around. The beginning of the walk was heaving with tourists or
'loopies' as Murray refers to them, partly cos they loop the country &
partly the insanity bit.
There's a local joke which goes ...
'What should you do if you fall & break a leg in Abel Tasman ?'
'Nothing, there'll be a German doctor along in a minute'
We set off to walk the track to a point a couple of hours away, then made
our way down to the beach & rock-hopped the much more interesting route
back along the coast.
I love looking in rock pools, the unpredictability of what you may turn
up makes for great suspense. Yesterday, I found a huge crab who was calmly & methodically breaking his way into a mussel. I called Murray over to get
some shots & the crab disregarded the flash completely & carried on with
his task. As Murray re-positioned himself for a shot, the crab seemed to
awake from his reverie and scurried under a rock sulking until we moved away.
'Come out & fight like a crab '
The beach was ripe with shellfish, which in turn sustain a huge seabird
population and we spotted terns, gulls, herons, pied shags and oystercatchers.
Some of the less likely beach-dwellers were swallows, mallard, quail & some
little lost guy who had fledged but was calling for mum whilst perched
on a rock. We weren't entirely sure but think he was a very young thrush.
Deciding we might die of starvation before reaching home, we stopped out of
town at the unlikely-sounding 'Hot Mama's Cafe'. I had some concerns about
the type of venue Murray was taking me to, but my fears proved groundless
as it was closed for a staff party. Luckily, the fish & chip shop across
the road, had no such fancy notions of letting their staff enjoy themselves
& served us a very commendable fish & chips.
Bloo & I ate fish & chips pretty regularly in the Coromandel & decided then
that the 15 minute wait you always have for them to be cooked is well worth it.
I have yet to have a bad fish & chip dinner here, something I wish I could say
of the UK. Everyone who knows me will know that I complain vociferously
that 'our fish smells of pee.'
It's true.
Unless it's Harry Ramsden's.
They're from Yorkshire.
Obviously.
'Are you safe to drive?'
It was pitch dark by the time we finished supper & the lights were illuminating
Nelson as we drove along the waterfront. I felt so relaxed & at home that it was
with a tremendous jolt that I realised NZ isn't my home.
'I can't believe I don't live here' I told Murray and I rapidly pushed the thought
of next Wednesday to the back of my festering brain.
We talked about NZ & how Murray feels no need to travel elsewhere just yet
when there is so much of NZ he hasn't seen. As someone who doesn't enjoy
travel & fears change I am afraid I did nothing to disuade him from leaving
NZ to look at other things.
Having re-read this post, it feels a bit flat & I think it's because until yesterday
I had completely over-looked the fact that I don't live here. As usual, I'm not
changing anything, but will let you judge. Perhaps I just need another cup of tea ?
Downloading photos will keep my brain busy.
Btw, if any of you have sent txs which have not been replied to it's because
there's no signal here. No tv signal either - what a shame.
Cx
It's 0832, Murray's gone to work & left me home alone - where are those matches ?
I plan to take his mountain bike (it's ok, I asked) & head up the Teal Valley
with the stumpy one to see what we can find.
This evening, we plan to do the Sundowner horse ride at Stonehurst Farm,
I'm hoping the weather will be clear, if so, expect sunset shots on CoffeeWaffle.
I was too tired to Blog last night when Murray had downloaded his shots the
conversation went ;
M ; Ok, the photos are done, if you want to use them for your Blog.
B ; No, you Blog.
M ; No, you Blog.
B ; No, you etc etc
In the end he compromised by posting the pics on his site & providing the
world's shortest commentary, not even captioning the photos. 7 hours of
walking, talking & seeing, squeezed into 5 photos & 3 lines of text.
I could never manage it.
If you haven't gone back over Q4A in the last couple of days, may I invite you
to do so now ? I will be inserting Welly pics & more random ones from the last
3 days, so go take a look, see what you missed 1st time around.
Whilst I'm on that subject, if you get time, go check out the pics of Alice
horse-riding again & see if you can see what prompted me to laugh out loud
last night. That'll never make it past the firewall at work.
Yesterday, we had the world's laziest Sunday morning, which lasted until
almost 1500 then headed off to Abel Tasman Park, which I missed 1st
time around. The beginning of the walk was heaving with tourists or
'loopies' as Murray refers to them, partly cos they loop the country &
partly the insanity bit.
There's a local joke which goes ...
'What should you do if you fall & break a leg in Abel Tasman ?'
'Nothing, there'll be a German doctor along in a minute'
We set off to walk the track to a point a couple of hours away, then made
our way down to the beach & rock-hopped the much more interesting route
back along the coast.
I love looking in rock pools, the unpredictability of what you may turn
up makes for great suspense. Yesterday, I found a huge crab who was calmly & methodically breaking his way into a mussel. I called Murray over to get
some shots & the crab disregarded the flash completely & carried on with
his task. As Murray re-positioned himself for a shot, the crab seemed to
awake from his reverie and scurried under a rock sulking until we moved away.
'Come out & fight like a crab '
The beach was ripe with shellfish, which in turn sustain a huge seabird
population and we spotted terns, gulls, herons, pied shags and oystercatchers.
Some of the less likely beach-dwellers were swallows, mallard, quail & some
little lost guy who had fledged but was calling for mum whilst perched
on a rock. We weren't entirely sure but think he was a very young thrush.
Deciding we might die of starvation before reaching home, we stopped out of
town at the unlikely-sounding 'Hot Mama's Cafe'. I had some concerns about
the type of venue Murray was taking me to, but my fears proved groundless
as it was closed for a staff party. Luckily, the fish & chip shop across
the road, had no such fancy notions of letting their staff enjoy themselves
& served us a very commendable fish & chips.
Bloo & I ate fish & chips pretty regularly in the Coromandel & decided then
that the 15 minute wait you always have for them to be cooked is well worth it.
I have yet to have a bad fish & chip dinner here, something I wish I could say
of the UK. Everyone who knows me will know that I complain vociferously
that 'our fish smells of pee.'
It's true.
Unless it's Harry Ramsden's.
They're from Yorkshire.
Obviously.
'Are you safe to drive?'
It was pitch dark by the time we finished supper & the lights were illuminating
Nelson as we drove along the waterfront. I felt so relaxed & at home that it was
with a tremendous jolt that I realised NZ isn't my home.
'I can't believe I don't live here' I told Murray and I rapidly pushed the thought
of next Wednesday to the back of my festering brain.
We talked about NZ & how Murray feels no need to travel elsewhere just yet
when there is so much of NZ he hasn't seen. As someone who doesn't enjoy
travel & fears change I am afraid I did nothing to disuade him from leaving
NZ to look at other things.
Having re-read this post, it feels a bit flat & I think it's because until yesterday
I had completely over-looked the fact that I don't live here. As usual, I'm not
changing anything, but will let you judge. Perhaps I just need another cup of tea ?
Downloading photos will keep my brain busy.
Btw, if any of you have sent txs which have not been replied to it's because
there's no signal here. No tv signal either - what a shame.
Cx
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Mr Blue Sky
Murray - My city
Murray mentioned a lie-in last night, so I of course was wide awake at 0630
knowing my readers would be cursing me for no photos on Saturday.
I didn't think he'd appreciate being awoken before 0800 so
I slid back the van door & watched & listened to the valley come alive.
Can you imagine a more perfect start to a Sunday morning ?
Ok, maybe a cup of tea would have improved things, but only just.
I tried down-loading & posting photos last night, but gave up at 2330, when
my eyelids were losing the battle with gravity.
I'm writing as Murray cycles down to the dairy for milk.
He says even Kaycee slept well last night.
The last time I flew a kite I was 12, it was a huge dowelling & canvas stunt
affair & my dad said, 'Whatever happens, don't let go.'
Murray was slightly more understanding yesterday.
After a relaxing morning in the sun we headed into Nelson & the fabulous
market there. I found a gorgeous amber ring to match the necklace which
Angie bought me after I admired them on our trip to Dublin. I wore the
necklace only for special occasions until Angie's recent health scare,
I wear it all the time now. It feels like I'm keeping an eye on her that way.
I wanted a ring to be able to think of NZ every time I saw my hand,
does that sound weird ? The last ring I had from here was a beautiful
one made of paua shell which I stupidly left in a soap dish so the acid
from the soap stripped all colour from it.
After a sandwich large enough to choke a horse & the obligatory look around
'The Plastic Box' shop (I told Murray I needed a hot water bottle, I think he
bought it) we headed for Neale Park & some kiting to prepare me for buggying.
Step away from the vehicle
Murray took out his 1 metre black 'Excalibur',a fantastically aggressive looking
kite which resembles a Stealth bomber. When he told me it sounded like a V8
when it flew, I nodded understandingly & thought he'd probably caught too much sun.
Bugger me - it did. For reasons I can't begin to explain, when the wind catches
the slightly loose edges of the kite & ripples the material it sounds exactly
like a huge engine - perfect.
Watching Murray being pulled to & fro by the kite gave me some inkling of
what I was in for & I will admit to being slightly nervous as I took the lines.
What a blast. I don't remember flying a kite being anything like this, you must
all have a go - quick. The power of the wind when the kite is directly above
you does little to prepare you for the gut-wrenching pull as you bring the kite
lower and into the power-zone. After 30 minutes of flying it I was sweating
freely & my forearms were solid. Want big biceps guys ? Fly a kite.
While I was doing this Murray set up the kite/buggy/trailer outfit with his
3 metre ram air foil 'Blade' kite
'Where the hell does this bit go ...?'
& we were soon cruising tandem around the park.
Murray made it look ridiculously easy & I was soon itching to have a go.
It looked like you sat in the buggy, hung on to the lines & just
let the wind pull you along.
No Briggsy, no.
He hitched up a couple of Excaliburs together, having judged rightly that
the Blade would be too powerful for me. Odd that the iconic kite remains
the iconic motorbike.
I had been warned a couple of times to keep the front wheel in line with the
direction the kite was taking & the consequences of not doing so were quick
to catch me out. One minute I was moving forwards quite happily & the next
I had been yanked unceremoniously from the seat & dumped chin-first on the grass.
Despite Murray telling me not to worry about the kites & to ditch them if I got
into trouble, he reckoned without the stupid stubborn streak of Tykes.
Hanging on grimly, I set off towards him at a much quicker rate than
previously,noting only in passing that he too was on the deck, having judged
it the safest place to be as the twin Excaliburs roared towards his head at
silly speeds.
It was about now that i realised wearing loose-fitting trousers was a bad idea.
I've never been undressed by grass before & I wouldn't recommend it. Luckily I finally ground to a halt before my dignity was completely compromised.
Still, I managed to stand up without the kites leaving the air & even tried to
persuade Murray that chin-surfing is a radical new sport which is the
way to go. Kite buggying is just SO last week.
After Neale Park we headed off to the place I seem to read about most weeks
on 'Coffeewaffle' - Rabbit Island. I know why now, it's a magnificent 8km
beach which most people would drive for a day to reach & it's a 15 minute
drive from Nelson city centre.
'Tell the village we've found him'
We spent the evening travelling up & down the beach with Murray unhooking
the trailer at the end for some solo hooning & jumping.
How do you know you'll come down again Murray ?
I can't quite explain the feeling that comes with racing silently along the
hard-packed sand. Perhaps the fact that everyone we saw smiled & waved at
us explains it better than I can. There's something about kite-buggying
that makes you grin. I hadn't thought I could get hooked on speed without
noise, fuel or an engine & yet the power from a bike is totally predictable,
you twist, it goes fast, you screw up, it hurts. When you're harnessing
the wind for your momentum, every fibre of your being has to concentrate
on working with the wind, or suffer the consequences.
As I prepared to shower last night, I noticed the grass stains on my knickers
and laughed out loud, remembering my belly-surfing across Neale Park.
I can't remember enjoying a day as much that didn't include motorbikes or neddies.
Thank you Murray.
Cx
Murray mentioned a lie-in last night, so I of course was wide awake at 0630
knowing my readers would be cursing me for no photos on Saturday.
I didn't think he'd appreciate being awoken before 0800 so
I slid back the van door & watched & listened to the valley come alive.
Can you imagine a more perfect start to a Sunday morning ?
Ok, maybe a cup of tea would have improved things, but only just.
I tried down-loading & posting photos last night, but gave up at 2330, when
my eyelids were losing the battle with gravity.
I'm writing as Murray cycles down to the dairy for milk.
He says even Kaycee slept well last night.
The last time I flew a kite I was 12, it was a huge dowelling & canvas stunt
affair & my dad said, 'Whatever happens, don't let go.'
Murray was slightly more understanding yesterday.
After a relaxing morning in the sun we headed into Nelson & the fabulous
market there. I found a gorgeous amber ring to match the necklace which
Angie bought me after I admired them on our trip to Dublin. I wore the
necklace only for special occasions until Angie's recent health scare,
I wear it all the time now. It feels like I'm keeping an eye on her that way.
I wanted a ring to be able to think of NZ every time I saw my hand,
does that sound weird ? The last ring I had from here was a beautiful
one made of paua shell which I stupidly left in a soap dish so the acid
from the soap stripped all colour from it.
After a sandwich large enough to choke a horse & the obligatory look around
'The Plastic Box' shop (I told Murray I needed a hot water bottle, I think he
bought it) we headed for Neale Park & some kiting to prepare me for buggying.
Murray took out his 1 metre black 'Excalibur',a fantastically aggressive looking
kite which resembles a Stealth bomber. When he told me it sounded like a V8
when it flew, I nodded understandingly & thought he'd probably caught too much sun.
Bugger me - it did. For reasons I can't begin to explain, when the wind catches
the slightly loose edges of the kite & ripples the material it sounds exactly
like a huge engine - perfect.
Watching Murray being pulled to & fro by the kite gave me some inkling of
what I was in for & I will admit to being slightly nervous as I took the lines.
What a blast. I don't remember flying a kite being anything like this, you must
all have a go - quick. The power of the wind when the kite is directly above
you does little to prepare you for the gut-wrenching pull as you bring the kite
lower and into the power-zone. After 30 minutes of flying it I was sweating
freely & my forearms were solid. Want big biceps guys ? Fly a kite.
While I was doing this Murray set up the kite/buggy/trailer outfit with his
3 metre ram air foil 'Blade' kite
& we were soon cruising tandem around the park.
Murray made it look ridiculously easy & I was soon itching to have a go.
It looked like you sat in the buggy, hung on to the lines & just
let the wind pull you along.
No Briggsy, no.
He hitched up a couple of Excaliburs together, having judged rightly that
the Blade would be too powerful for me. Odd that the iconic kite remains
the iconic motorbike.
I had been warned a couple of times to keep the front wheel in line with the
direction the kite was taking & the consequences of not doing so were quick
to catch me out. One minute I was moving forwards quite happily & the next
I had been yanked unceremoniously from the seat & dumped chin-first on the grass.
Despite Murray telling me not to worry about the kites & to ditch them if I got
into trouble, he reckoned without the stupid stubborn streak of Tykes.
Hanging on grimly, I set off towards him at a much quicker rate than
previously,noting only in passing that he too was on the deck, having judged
it the safest place to be as the twin Excaliburs roared towards his head at
silly speeds.
It was about now that i realised wearing loose-fitting trousers was a bad idea.
I've never been undressed by grass before & I wouldn't recommend it. Luckily I finally ground to a halt before my dignity was completely compromised.
Still, I managed to stand up without the kites leaving the air & even tried to
persuade Murray that chin-surfing is a radical new sport which is the
way to go. Kite buggying is just SO last week.
After Neale Park we headed off to the place I seem to read about most weeks
on 'Coffeewaffle' - Rabbit Island. I know why now, it's a magnificent 8km
beach which most people would drive for a day to reach & it's a 15 minute
drive from Nelson city centre.
We spent the evening travelling up & down the beach with Murray unhooking
the trailer at the end for some solo hooning & jumping.
I can't quite explain the feeling that comes with racing silently along the
hard-packed sand. Perhaps the fact that everyone we saw smiled & waved at
us explains it better than I can. There's something about kite-buggying
that makes you grin. I hadn't thought I could get hooked on speed without
noise, fuel or an engine & yet the power from a bike is totally predictable,
you twist, it goes fast, you screw up, it hurts. When you're harnessing
the wind for your momentum, every fibre of your being has to concentrate
on working with the wind, or suffer the consequences.
As I prepared to shower last night, I noticed the grass stains on my knickers
and laughed out loud, remembering my belly-surfing across Neale Park.
I can't remember enjoying a day as much that didn't include motorbikes or neddies.
Thank you Murray.
Cx
Friday, November 26, 2004
Middle Earth, Wind & Fire
For Sharon
In a little over 2 days I have travelled from Middle Earth - Matamata
to Wind - Wellington, and finally onto Fire, in the form of Nelson ;
sunshine capital of New Zealand.
I know the fire link is a little tenuous but had I not used it then
my title wouldn't have worked & it's taken me all day to come up
with one.
As I type, Murray & Kaycee have gone to bed & I'm watching 'Cold Mountain.'
I'm as little concerned about Murray to be honest, he was walking stiffly
when I arrived & mentioned a cramp in his left leg. His ankles have almost
completely seized now & he is alternating sweats with chills.
I suspect it's some kind of virus. I told him it was a drastic way to get
out of the horse-riding trip I have threatened him with.
He teaches me kite-buggying, I teach him horse-riding, seems fair to me.
Just before he went to sleep, I asked if I could have the house if
he doesn't make it through the night. I promised to take care of Kaycee.
Seems like I might not need the axe after all.
The day started early at 0630 today with a shower, quick catch-up Blog,
breakfast then a trolley-ride into town with Milky's Mum. Unfortunately,
my plans went awry after that, for the Lynx which I thought I was travelling
on doesn't sail until December, so I had to cover 2.5kms in 20 minutes to book
on the Interislander 30 minutes before she sailed.
Luckily, I flagged down a passing cab, right about the time I had lost the
will to live in the most biting wind I have ever encountered.
I now know how Oates felt ...
'I'm going to look for the Interislander, I may be some time.'
I caught the ferry by the skin of my teeth & almost immediately wished
I hadn't.I've never known a crossing like it & was extremely grateful
that I'd only had toast at Milky's Mum's. She obviously knew something
I didn't as she commented 'It's probably wise' when I told her I was
only having toast.
I won't dwell on the crossing, partly cos I'm hard but mostly because 'humour
is only other people's misfortune' (copyright E.Tanner) & I'm not giving you
lot a good laugh. I did what I always do in times of hardship & emotional
distress & went to sleep, blocking out the retching sounds.
When I awoke it was to a slightly less turbulent crossing & 2 hours later
we coasted into a serene Marlborough Sounds, much to my relief.
The Kiwi next to me was talking to his friend on the phone ...
'She's a beautiful day in Picton' he said
'The Sounds are as flat as'
How good it is to hear those idioms again :)
The rough conditions added 35 minutes on our crossing & I fully expected
my 1255 bus to have long gone, as we disembarked at 1330.
I went to the InterCity Bus stand without much hope of them being
able to get me on a bus to Nelson that day, to have the girl on the
desk say 'They're waiting for you, that's your bus there.'
Sure enough there was my bus & all it's passengers & I didn't even
attract any filthy looks from the passengers who had waited 35 minutes
for the green person to board.
I've never enjoyed a coach journey as much.
Partly because we were on terra firma but mostly because we replicated
the fantastic drive I used to do in 'The Beast' from Seddon to Nelson.
After the biting wind in Welly, the sun splitting the sky was a very
welcome treat indeed.
What I did see from the bus. Purty.
The most poignant moment of the day was when a blind lady & her golden
retriever guide-dog boarded the bus at Blenheim. I always want to cry when I
see these partnerships & I hasten to add I don't mean from pity, but
just because I find their working relationship so tremendously dignified
& touching.
It struck me as a particularly cruel irony to be without sight in a country as
breathtakingly beautiful as this one.
We trundled into Nelson bus station some 30 minutes late & I immediately
recognised Murray, despite the beard which I had forgotten about.
Soon we were in the van & underway, chatting like old buddies & that's
kind of been the theme ever since, until he feigned illness to get to bed.
My first photo of Kaycee. This is kind of typical. She's too busy for photos.
We cleaned out the van, then took a stroll up the valley to watch Kaycee
dive for stones in the river. Murray's abode is even quiter & more beautiful
than the photos suggest. A busy little stream runs past the bottom of the
garden and the air is viscous with birdsong. I like it here.
Murray lives here.
We have talked ever since (with me trying to listen more than talk, since
Bridget saying I talk too much ;) ) & I remarked that it felt lilke I'd
been here for days not hours.
'That has to be a good sign doesn't it ?' asked Murray.
He's right.
Cx
In a little over 2 days I have travelled from Middle Earth - Matamata
to Wind - Wellington, and finally onto Fire, in the form of Nelson ;
sunshine capital of New Zealand.
I know the fire link is a little tenuous but had I not used it then
my title wouldn't have worked & it's taken me all day to come up
with one.
As I type, Murray & Kaycee have gone to bed & I'm watching 'Cold Mountain.'
I'm as little concerned about Murray to be honest, he was walking stiffly
when I arrived & mentioned a cramp in his left leg. His ankles have almost
completely seized now & he is alternating sweats with chills.
I suspect it's some kind of virus. I told him it was a drastic way to get
out of the horse-riding trip I have threatened him with.
He teaches me kite-buggying, I teach him horse-riding, seems fair to me.
Just before he went to sleep, I asked if I could have the house if
he doesn't make it through the night. I promised to take care of Kaycee.
Seems like I might not need the axe after all.
The day started early at 0630 today with a shower, quick catch-up Blog,
breakfast then a trolley-ride into town with Milky's Mum. Unfortunately,
my plans went awry after that, for the Lynx which I thought I was travelling
on doesn't sail until December, so I had to cover 2.5kms in 20 minutes to book
on the Interislander 30 minutes before she sailed.
Luckily, I flagged down a passing cab, right about the time I had lost the
will to live in the most biting wind I have ever encountered.
I now know how Oates felt ...
'I'm going to look for the Interislander, I may be some time.'
I caught the ferry by the skin of my teeth & almost immediately wished
I hadn't.I've never known a crossing like it & was extremely grateful
that I'd only had toast at Milky's Mum's. She obviously knew something
I didn't as she commented 'It's probably wise' when I told her I was
only having toast.
I won't dwell on the crossing, partly cos I'm hard but mostly because 'humour
is only other people's misfortune' (copyright E.Tanner) & I'm not giving you
lot a good laugh. I did what I always do in times of hardship & emotional
distress & went to sleep, blocking out the retching sounds.
When I awoke it was to a slightly less turbulent crossing & 2 hours later
we coasted into a serene Marlborough Sounds, much to my relief.
The Kiwi next to me was talking to his friend on the phone ...
'She's a beautiful day in Picton' he said
'The Sounds are as flat as'
How good it is to hear those idioms again :)
The rough conditions added 35 minutes on our crossing & I fully expected
my 1255 bus to have long gone, as we disembarked at 1330.
I went to the InterCity Bus stand without much hope of them being
able to get me on a bus to Nelson that day, to have the girl on the
desk say 'They're waiting for you, that's your bus there.'
Sure enough there was my bus & all it's passengers & I didn't even
attract any filthy looks from the passengers who had waited 35 minutes
for the green person to board.
I've never enjoyed a coach journey as much.
Partly because we were on terra firma but mostly because we replicated
the fantastic drive I used to do in 'The Beast' from Seddon to Nelson.
After the biting wind in Welly, the sun splitting the sky was a very
welcome treat indeed.
The most poignant moment of the day was when a blind lady & her golden
retriever guide-dog boarded the bus at Blenheim. I always want to cry when I
see these partnerships & I hasten to add I don't mean from pity, but
just because I find their working relationship so tremendously dignified
& touching.
It struck me as a particularly cruel irony to be without sight in a country as
breathtakingly beautiful as this one.
We trundled into Nelson bus station some 30 minutes late & I immediately
recognised Murray, despite the beard which I had forgotten about.
Soon we were in the van & underway, chatting like old buddies & that's
kind of been the theme ever since, until he feigned illness to get to bed.
We cleaned out the van, then took a stroll up the valley to watch Kaycee
dive for stones in the river. Murray's abode is even quiter & more beautiful
than the photos suggest. A busy little stream runs past the bottom of the
garden and the air is viscous with birdsong. I like it here.
We have talked ever since (with me trying to listen more than talk, since
Bridget saying I talk too much ;) ) & I remarked that it felt lilke I'd
been here for days not hours.
'That has to be a good sign doesn't it ?' asked Murray.
He's right.
Cx
Thursday, November 25, 2004
Kiwis rock !
I got on the bus at 1255 today in Tirau.
An hour later I had a text from Milky asking did I want to stay with her
Mum tonight ?
So here's how it works, I met Milky 4 days ago & tonight her Mum picks
me up & gives me a bed for the night. Needs no comment really does it ?
Now you can call me a luddite but I find it incredible that courtesy of
something the size of a mobile phone, I was met at the station today by
someone who had never met me, on the power of 3 text messages - amazing.
As I was dragging my bag off the coach, it dawned on me that I had no idea
what Milky''s mum looked like. It was at this point that I noticed a
very determined looking lady heading towards me.
I was engulfed in a huge hug & told 'I recognise you!'
That's ok then.
Then we were off on a whistle-stop tour of Wellington.
If someone had said to me what would you like to do most having got
off an 8-hour coach journey it would have involved tea & a sit-down.
Not for the human dynamo that is Milky's Mum.
We did the Te Papa museum in 30 minutes flat.
It was beautiful, very modern & thoughtfully laid out with lots of sound
effects & interactive displays.
We saw the skeleton of Phar-Lap, the Britten bike, the skeleton of a pigmy
blue whale, the Waitangi Treaty and an albatross.
Pigmy blue whale skeleton.
Sex on wheels - I saw this bike at the Isle Of Man TT in 1994
One of these moves very quickly. The other is a motorbike.
Quite possibly the worst picture I have of me, but it had to get published because of the Kiwi. Look - it's embedded in my head !
A corrugated Holden. Why ?
The original 'before & after' Slim-Fast advert was withdrawn after complaints from shocked viewers.
Milky's Mum says it takes 6 days to see everything in the museum,
so we did pretty well in 30 minutes. After that we sprinted to the car
to do the following ...
Cruised slowly around the $1 million harbour-side properties
which were rendered even more spectacular by the addition of white
Christmas lights in all the trees.
Next came a dusk drive around Wellington. We climbed to the top of a hill
to the Victoria lookout point, which offered an almost panoramic
360 with Cook Strait to our right & the Hutt Valley & the harbour to our left.
Flippin' Nora - it was cold up there.
Bill always talks about how beautiful the nightime Auckland skyline was.
Bill - come & look at Wellington, quite the most dazzling views & that's
from a townie-hater. The lights are gorgeous anyway but magnified in the
water they shimmer like jewels.
Next we headed up to Karori (which is where Milky's Mum lives) during which
we passed the Beehive which is where Parliament sits. It's iconic but not
nearly as beautiful as the Old Parliament Buildings & the General Assembly
Library.
Shortly after the Botanical Gardens I noted the Fire Station, it's always
handy to know how far they have to come.
This area of Wellington reminds me of a mini San-Fran, with the overhead
lines for trolley buses and the swooping up & down avenues. The shops
are eclectic, pretty & individual.
An apology
I had nothing good to say about Wellington the last time I passed
through in August 2003. I remember being shell-shocked by the noise
& the traffic & crowds. To be fair, I had just come from the South Island
& wasn't very kindly disposed to the North.
Having seen another side of Wellington tonight with an enthusiastic &
knowledgeable guide I apologise to Wellington & Wellingtonians.
Hell - I'm even thinking of making a day on the way back to look around
the botanical gardens.
As soon as I arrived here I was shown to my room, offered a shower & plied
with food (Milky's Mum comes from the Tanner school of hospitality methinks)
In answer to the question 'What would you liek to drink ?' I asked for tea.
'Are you sure you wouldn't like wine ? 'She must have seen the doubt in my
face as I was presented with tea and wine.
Then came the question travellers everywhere love to hear ...
'Would you like to Blog ?' so that's what I'm doing now
(at the same time as helping to change the water in Fishy's tank, as he looks
a tad furry & not particularly well)
I think that about does it, thank you Stin, Bloo & Andy for keeping me company
on the bus journey & a special thank you to the Japanese stunt-woman at
Taupo. You were magnificent. Note to all travellers, watch the Japanese,
they are hugely entertaining. This one stumbled headlong down the
coach steps, tripping over her bag as she landed. Whilst bending to retrieve
said bag, a large bottle of water slipped from her rucksack & brained her.
8/10.
If there are photos on this, then I've managed to download them, if there aren't
then I haven't. No bitching or whining.
Cx
ps. lovely photos Bridget :)
pps. Thanks again Milky's Mum, you personify why I love this country.
I got on the bus at 1255 today in Tirau.
An hour later I had a text from Milky asking did I want to stay with her
Mum tonight ?
So here's how it works, I met Milky 4 days ago & tonight her Mum picks
me up & gives me a bed for the night. Needs no comment really does it ?
Now you can call me a luddite but I find it incredible that courtesy of
something the size of a mobile phone, I was met at the station today by
someone who had never met me, on the power of 3 text messages - amazing.
As I was dragging my bag off the coach, it dawned on me that I had no idea
what Milky''s mum looked like. It was at this point that I noticed a
very determined looking lady heading towards me.
I was engulfed in a huge hug & told 'I recognise you!'
That's ok then.
Then we were off on a whistle-stop tour of Wellington.
If someone had said to me what would you like to do most having got
off an 8-hour coach journey it would have involved tea & a sit-down.
Not for the human dynamo that is Milky's Mum.
We did the Te Papa museum in 30 minutes flat.
It was beautiful, very modern & thoughtfully laid out with lots of sound
effects & interactive displays.
We saw the skeleton of Phar-Lap, the Britten bike, the skeleton of a pigmy
blue whale, the Waitangi Treaty and an albatross.
Milky's Mum says it takes 6 days to see everything in the museum,
so we did pretty well in 30 minutes. After that we sprinted to the car
to do the following ...
Cruised slowly around the $1 million harbour-side properties
which were rendered even more spectacular by the addition of white
Christmas lights in all the trees.
Next came a dusk drive around Wellington. We climbed to the top of a hill
to the Victoria lookout point, which offered an almost panoramic
360 with Cook Strait to our right & the Hutt Valley & the harbour to our left.
Flippin' Nora - it was cold up there.
Bill always talks about how beautiful the nightime Auckland skyline was.
Bill - come & look at Wellington, quite the most dazzling views & that's
from a townie-hater. The lights are gorgeous anyway but magnified in the
water they shimmer like jewels.
Next we headed up to Karori (which is where Milky's Mum lives) during which
we passed the Beehive which is where Parliament sits. It's iconic but not
nearly as beautiful as the Old Parliament Buildings & the General Assembly
Library.
Shortly after the Botanical Gardens I noted the Fire Station, it's always
handy to know how far they have to come.
This area of Wellington reminds me of a mini San-Fran, with the overhead
lines for trolley buses and the swooping up & down avenues. The shops
are eclectic, pretty & individual.
An apology
I had nothing good to say about Wellington the last time I passed
through in August 2003. I remember being shell-shocked by the noise
& the traffic & crowds. To be fair, I had just come from the South Island
& wasn't very kindly disposed to the North.
Having seen another side of Wellington tonight with an enthusiastic &
knowledgeable guide I apologise to Wellington & Wellingtonians.
Hell - I'm even thinking of making a day on the way back to look around
the botanical gardens.
As soon as I arrived here I was shown to my room, offered a shower & plied
with food (Milky's Mum comes from the Tanner school of hospitality methinks)
In answer to the question 'What would you liek to drink ?' I asked for tea.
'Are you sure you wouldn't like wine ? 'She must have seen the doubt in my
face as I was presented with tea and wine.
Then came the question travellers everywhere love to hear ...
'Would you like to Blog ?' so that's what I'm doing now
(at the same time as helping to change the water in Fishy's tank, as he looks
a tad furry & not particularly well)
I think that about does it, thank you Stin, Bloo & Andy for keeping me company
on the bus journey & a special thank you to the Japanese stunt-woman at
Taupo. You were magnificent. Note to all travellers, watch the Japanese,
they are hugely entertaining. This one stumbled headlong down the
coach steps, tripping over her bag as she landed. Whilst bending to retrieve
said bag, a large bottle of water slipped from her rucksack & brained her.
8/10.
If there are photos on this, then I've managed to download them, if there aren't
then I haven't. No bitching or whining.
Cx
ps. lovely photos Bridget :)
pps. Thanks again Milky's Mum, you personify why I love this country.
Southward Bound
Today started with breakfast with the kids.
Since arriving I’ve missed it every morning, due to a rare but serious condition, which means my bones are not firm enough to support my bulk prior to 0830.
However, the threat of Harri coming into my flat this morning for a goodbye hug was enough to get me into the kitchen. .
Alice was holding court complaining that of all the people in the school that she could go on camp with she was bunking with her ‘worst enemy’ whose name escapes me.
Harri was being threatened by Eric to put the plastic stuff out in the recycling bins.
The conversation sounded something like this
Michelle ; ‘Harri – please loosen your hairband, it’s too tight’
Harri ; ‘Ugh’
Alice ; ‘…and the thing is, no-one even asked my opinion’
Eric ; ‘Harri, please put the waste into the recycling bins’
Harri ; (pulls face) ‘Why should I ?’ etc
Eric ; (to no-one in particular) ‘It’s 0820, we are leaving at
0830, ready or not’
Michelle ; ‘Harri, I’ve sliced the bread, make yourself a sandwich’
Alice ; ‘..I don’t want a sandwich !’
Michelle ; ‘I know, I’ve stopped making you sandwiches, because
you never eat them,Harri, sort your hair out.’
Eric (loudly) ‘Eight-twenty-two ! We are leaving in 8 minutes !’
Eric ; ‘Harri, stop standing around & put the waste out’
Michelle ; ‘Alice, you drifted over here to pack yourself some
lunch, now please do it’
Eric ; ‘Why haven’t you put the waste out yet Harri ?’
Harri ; (loudly) ‘I can’t, there are plants on top of the bin’
All (chorused) ‘Well take the plants off the bin then’
Harri ; ‘I can’t, Mum tells me not to put them on the floor, in
case the dogs knock them over’
And so on and to think I’ve been missing this.
I must go pack in a minute, Michelle has kindly loaned me a bag which is halfway between my case & my rucksack, one of which is too large & the other too small.
I plan on packing very light so all the photos will show me wearing the same clothes for the next few days. Nothing wrong with that ey Bloo ? I will be taking a change of underwear though & of course space will have to be made for the little white guy.
I catch the bus from Tirau at 1255 today, Eric is going to drop me there hopefully, then it’s a day long bus ride sitting next to the serial murderer/rapist/mental health patient that I always end up next to on the buses here.
Thankfully, I saved a book to read, it's a Chris Ryan so I'll be occupied by a testosterone-fuelled blood/war/bullets fest. Perfect.
An overnight stay in Wellington (Bloo recommends the YHA), wonder if there’ll be a princess net over my bed ? I must remember to take innumerable plastic bags to rustle at 0200, I understand that’s the thing to do at these types of places ?
Then I’m on the ferry for 0930. At least I hope I am, the people at the information place couldn’t book me on it yesterday due to pooter problems but I was assured that ‘it’s never busy for foot passengers on a Friday morning’. If I don’t get on the ferry Murray, look out for someone swimming through the Sounds. The ferry gets into Picton, from Picton to Nelson via another bus ride & then Murray has kindly offered to pick me up from the bus station.
The plans from there are a few days with Murray, then heading off to Blenheim/Seddon to see Mal & Mike. I anticipate being back at Cedar Lodge next weekend unless I end up in A & E after buggying.
If I don’t get on-line in the next few days, worry not, I’ll be fine.
I’ll be keeping a hand-written diary & will transfer everything at the end of the 10 days or so.
If you’ve e-mailed me recently, thank you, I will reply probably when I’m next back at Cedar Lodge.
A couple of hello’s
Angie – How are you ? Tiring of Phil & Fern yet ? No reply to e-mails or texts, so I can’t supply you with that address – sorry.
Trudes – Where are you ?
Stu – I may not get a chance to Blog tomorrow, if I don’t ‘Happy Birthday’ for you on the 26th and ‘Happy Birthday’ to Barley Marley on the 28th. 6 years old – bless. Give her a hug from me please.
Hi to Kerry – hope she’s well ?
I think that’s everything, although I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve forgotten something,oh yes, congratulations to Mummeh, who’s out of the reeds. Is it scary out there ?
Cx
Today started with breakfast with the kids.
Since arriving I’ve missed it every morning, due to a rare but serious condition, which means my bones are not firm enough to support my bulk prior to 0830.
However, the threat of Harri coming into my flat this morning for a goodbye hug was enough to get me into the kitchen. .
Alice was holding court complaining that of all the people in the school that she could go on camp with she was bunking with her ‘worst enemy’ whose name escapes me.
Harri was being threatened by Eric to put the plastic stuff out in the recycling bins.
The conversation sounded something like this
Michelle ; ‘Harri – please loosen your hairband, it’s too tight’
Harri ; ‘Ugh’
Alice ; ‘…and the thing is, no-one even asked my opinion’
Eric ; ‘Harri, please put the waste into the recycling bins’
Harri ; (pulls face) ‘Why should I ?’ etc
Eric ; (to no-one in particular) ‘It’s 0820, we are leaving at
0830, ready or not’
Michelle ; ‘Harri, I’ve sliced the bread, make yourself a sandwich’
Alice ; ‘..I don’t want a sandwich !’
Michelle ; ‘I know, I’ve stopped making you sandwiches, because
you never eat them,Harri, sort your hair out.’
Eric (loudly) ‘Eight-twenty-two ! We are leaving in 8 minutes !’
Eric ; ‘Harri, stop standing around & put the waste out’
Michelle ; ‘Alice, you drifted over here to pack yourself some
lunch, now please do it’
Eric ; ‘Why haven’t you put the waste out yet Harri ?’
Harri ; (loudly) ‘I can’t, there are plants on top of the bin’
All (chorused) ‘Well take the plants off the bin then’
Harri ; ‘I can’t, Mum tells me not to put them on the floor, in
case the dogs knock them over’
And so on and to think I’ve been missing this.
I must go pack in a minute, Michelle has kindly loaned me a bag which is halfway between my case & my rucksack, one of which is too large & the other too small.
I plan on packing very light so all the photos will show me wearing the same clothes for the next few days. Nothing wrong with that ey Bloo ? I will be taking a change of underwear though & of course space will have to be made for the little white guy.
I catch the bus from Tirau at 1255 today, Eric is going to drop me there hopefully, then it’s a day long bus ride sitting next to the serial murderer/rapist/mental health patient that I always end up next to on the buses here.
Thankfully, I saved a book to read, it's a Chris Ryan so I'll be occupied by a testosterone-fuelled blood/war/bullets fest. Perfect.
An overnight stay in Wellington (Bloo recommends the YHA), wonder if there’ll be a princess net over my bed ? I must remember to take innumerable plastic bags to rustle at 0200, I understand that’s the thing to do at these types of places ?
Then I’m on the ferry for 0930. At least I hope I am, the people at the information place couldn’t book me on it yesterday due to pooter problems but I was assured that ‘it’s never busy for foot passengers on a Friday morning’. If I don’t get on the ferry Murray, look out for someone swimming through the Sounds. The ferry gets into Picton, from Picton to Nelson via another bus ride & then Murray has kindly offered to pick me up from the bus station.
The plans from there are a few days with Murray, then heading off to Blenheim/Seddon to see Mal & Mike. I anticipate being back at Cedar Lodge next weekend unless I end up in A & E after buggying.
If I don’t get on-line in the next few days, worry not, I’ll be fine.
I’ll be keeping a hand-written diary & will transfer everything at the end of the 10 days or so.
If you’ve e-mailed me recently, thank you, I will reply probably when I’m next back at Cedar Lodge.
A couple of hello’s
Angie – How are you ? Tiring of Phil & Fern yet ? No reply to e-mails or texts, so I can’t supply you with that address – sorry.
Trudes – Where are you ?
Stu – I may not get a chance to Blog tomorrow, if I don’t ‘Happy Birthday’ for you on the 26th and ‘Happy Birthday’ to Barley Marley on the 28th. 6 years old – bless. Give her a hug from me please.
Hi to Kerry – hope she’s well ?
I think that’s everything, although I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve forgotten something,oh yes, congratulations to Mummeh, who’s out of the reeds. Is it scary out there ?
Cx
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Train of thought …
Do you remember me raving about a song last time I was over here called
‘Drops of Jupiter’
I heard it once on the radio & it hit me like a ton of bricks. A couple of lyrics stuck in my head & luckily from these Stan was able to find it on the net & post the lyrics on my Blog. He told me the band was Train.
If I was a technically able person, I would search the archives, find the reference & link it, but as I’m not, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
I find it hard to say what the song does for me & I’m too self-conscious to explain it’s meaning to me (at least without several glasses of Wolf Blass) but personal insights aside, it encapsulates in a melody everything about NZ. It’s breezy, upbeat, poignant, and aching with the unknown.
After returning to the UK, I resisted the urge to buy the CD. I know, I know, it doesn’t make sense, someone has already told me as much. Thing is, for me, a song keeps it’s ability to hit where it hurts by being fresh and that means I shouldn’t be able to just listen to it when I like. I love the fact that every now & again, I’ll hear a really special song on the radio & it will move me. If I owned ‘Sitting on the dock of the bay’ I’m not sure I’d feel the same about it.
Quick break, at 1450, to collect Alice from school & take her horse-riding …
Post started again at 2303, having returned from dinner at friends.
Their baby kept smiling at me – weird.
As I was saying I haven’t bought the CD, however Laura at work loaned it to me & I have listened to it daily for the past 3 weeks. Train are really not my thing, being quite soft-rock MOR but I just can’t get enough of this CD, especially track 11 ‘Mississippi’, haunting.
Btw Milky, why can you only buy scary music in Epsom ?
Music has such life-enhancing properties that I can’t imagine restricting myself to one type. Milky asked me recently what I liked, prior to compiling some Cd’s for this trip. I find that a really hard question to answer. Some days it’s Puccini & I bellow along to Turandot, others it’s Prince. Linkin Park have a special fascination for me, I love the rage in their lyrics. REM & Tracey Chapman never pale & if I’m exercising it has to be really LOUD trance. I cannot get to a dance-floor quickly enough if I hear Faithless’ Insomnia, Da Rude’s Sandstorm or for the best old skool ever ; C & C Music factory’s ‘Gonna make you sweat’. I’m not saying the dancing is pretty but it’s enthusiastic. Thinking about it the only music I cannot tolerate is jazz, the thought of it brings me out in hives.
I can have a good night out without dancing, but I can’t have a great night out without it.
It was the single most important thing missing from the Old Boys weekend, for me, that is.
Another weird thing about being here is I listen relentlessly to ZM. Very loudly. And yet in the UK, I listen to Radio 4, all the time. You cannot imagine 2 more diverse radio stations, I love them both & yet one is NZ me & the other is UK me. Schizophrenic ? Quite possibly.
You’ll be thrilled to hear it’s pouring down as I type this. It has been since about 5pm this afternoon & started while I was watching Alice’s horse-riding lesson.
I offered to take her, to Eric’s relief, as I was keen to see how she was getting on.
(Thought you might like a progress report too Uncle Stinley ?)
I am delighted to report that Alice’s riding teacher has kids totally sussed.
She was relentlessly strict & picked up on their every mistake. A couple of
things she said struck me as particularly good
‘Oi, oi, why aren’t you looking at me, when I’m talking to you ?’
and
‘This isn’t a pony-ride, if you want a pony-ride go to a fete, I am trying to make riders of you’
Please don’t think from this that she was an old harridan, she wasn’t and she was quite softly spoken. It’s just that she noticed everything and was very, very strict with the girls. The lovely thing was that Alice really responded. She has been placed in this group after 6 private lessons on the lunge (round & round on a rope) and the concentration on her face was great to see. Alice usually tires of things after a fairly limited effort so I was really impressed to see her knuckle down & concentrate for well over an hour. When the teacher reprimanded her several times for the same thing, Alice accepted the criticism, applied herself & did better. No backchat, no ‘I know’, no faces – how refreshing. Alice particularly excelled in the sitting trot & it was great to see her smile as she came past, knowing she was doing well.
The Tibetan monks say ‘give me a child for 7 years & I give you the man’
This riding teacher could do it in half the time – inspirational.
'Listen up you 'orrible little lot!'
'Twot on Twacey - make much of your pony'
It’s blowing a gale out there now – almost loud enough to drown Eric’s snoring.
Bridget & I went to the pub last night, the Prince Albert of course.
When I asked her if she knew where it was she said ‘ye-ah’ in that way as if
‘How could anyone not ?’We talked solidly for over 3 hours. I learned that it ‘doesn’t take 7 hours to see a film’ and she learned which bath bombs to avoid.
Loose plans
Murray thinks this weekend will be best for kite-buggying as it’s low-tide so I am going to head into Matamata tomorrow to check out bus & ferry times to
get me to the South Island. I would like to travel Thursday & aim to be in Nelson for Friday evening - something tells me there won’t be a lie-in on Saturday morning. I was originally going to hire a camper van straight off the ferry, but it’ll just be sitting there unused whilst I’m at Murray’s at $116 per day, so it makes more sense to hire one as I leave his. I then aim for Blenheim to say hello to Mike & Mal & a3/4 day road-trip with Mal. The camper van idea may have to be scrapped in favour of B & B’s though unless I can find one with twin beds, at the moment they’re all doubles. Hmmmm.
Goodnight, sleep well,
Cx
Do you remember me raving about a song last time I was over here called
‘Drops of Jupiter’
I heard it once on the radio & it hit me like a ton of bricks. A couple of lyrics stuck in my head & luckily from these Stan was able to find it on the net & post the lyrics on my Blog. He told me the band was Train.
If I was a technically able person, I would search the archives, find the reference & link it, but as I’m not, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
I find it hard to say what the song does for me & I’m too self-conscious to explain it’s meaning to me (at least without several glasses of Wolf Blass) but personal insights aside, it encapsulates in a melody everything about NZ. It’s breezy, upbeat, poignant, and aching with the unknown.
After returning to the UK, I resisted the urge to buy the CD. I know, I know, it doesn’t make sense, someone has already told me as much. Thing is, for me, a song keeps it’s ability to hit where it hurts by being fresh and that means I shouldn’t be able to just listen to it when I like. I love the fact that every now & again, I’ll hear a really special song on the radio & it will move me. If I owned ‘Sitting on the dock of the bay’ I’m not sure I’d feel the same about it.
Quick break, at 1450, to collect Alice from school & take her horse-riding …
Post started again at 2303, having returned from dinner at friends.
Their baby kept smiling at me – weird.
As I was saying I haven’t bought the CD, however Laura at work loaned it to me & I have listened to it daily for the past 3 weeks. Train are really not my thing, being quite soft-rock MOR but I just can’t get enough of this CD, especially track 11 ‘Mississippi’, haunting.
Btw Milky, why can you only buy scary music in Epsom ?
Music has such life-enhancing properties that I can’t imagine restricting myself to one type. Milky asked me recently what I liked, prior to compiling some Cd’s for this trip. I find that a really hard question to answer. Some days it’s Puccini & I bellow along to Turandot, others it’s Prince. Linkin Park have a special fascination for me, I love the rage in their lyrics. REM & Tracey Chapman never pale & if I’m exercising it has to be really LOUD trance. I cannot get to a dance-floor quickly enough if I hear Faithless’ Insomnia, Da Rude’s Sandstorm or for the best old skool ever ; C & C Music factory’s ‘Gonna make you sweat’. I’m not saying the dancing is pretty but it’s enthusiastic. Thinking about it the only music I cannot tolerate is jazz, the thought of it brings me out in hives.
I can have a good night out without dancing, but I can’t have a great night out without it.
It was the single most important thing missing from the Old Boys weekend, for me, that is.
Another weird thing about being here is I listen relentlessly to ZM. Very loudly. And yet in the UK, I listen to Radio 4, all the time. You cannot imagine 2 more diverse radio stations, I love them both & yet one is NZ me & the other is UK me. Schizophrenic ? Quite possibly.
You’ll be thrilled to hear it’s pouring down as I type this. It has been since about 5pm this afternoon & started while I was watching Alice’s horse-riding lesson.
I offered to take her, to Eric’s relief, as I was keen to see how she was getting on.
(Thought you might like a progress report too Uncle Stinley ?)
I am delighted to report that Alice’s riding teacher has kids totally sussed.
She was relentlessly strict & picked up on their every mistake. A couple of
things she said struck me as particularly good
‘Oi, oi, why aren’t you looking at me, when I’m talking to you ?’
and
‘This isn’t a pony-ride, if you want a pony-ride go to a fete, I am trying to make riders of you’
Please don’t think from this that she was an old harridan, she wasn’t and she was quite softly spoken. It’s just that she noticed everything and was very, very strict with the girls. The lovely thing was that Alice really responded. She has been placed in this group after 6 private lessons on the lunge (round & round on a rope) and the concentration on her face was great to see. Alice usually tires of things after a fairly limited effort so I was really impressed to see her knuckle down & concentrate for well over an hour. When the teacher reprimanded her several times for the same thing, Alice accepted the criticism, applied herself & did better. No backchat, no ‘I know’, no faces – how refreshing. Alice particularly excelled in the sitting trot & it was great to see her smile as she came past, knowing she was doing well.
The Tibetan monks say ‘give me a child for 7 years & I give you the man’
This riding teacher could do it in half the time – inspirational.
It’s blowing a gale out there now – almost loud enough to drown Eric’s snoring.
Bridget & I went to the pub last night, the Prince Albert of course.
When I asked her if she knew where it was she said ‘ye-ah’ in that way as if
‘How could anyone not ?’We talked solidly for over 3 hours. I learned that it ‘doesn’t take 7 hours to see a film’ and she learned which bath bombs to avoid.
Loose plans
Murray thinks this weekend will be best for kite-buggying as it’s low-tide so I am going to head into Matamata tomorrow to check out bus & ferry times to
get me to the South Island. I would like to travel Thursday & aim to be in Nelson for Friday evening - something tells me there won’t be a lie-in on Saturday morning. I was originally going to hire a camper van straight off the ferry, but it’ll just be sitting there unused whilst I’m at Murray’s at $116 per day, so it makes more sense to hire one as I leave his. I then aim for Blenheim to say hello to Mike & Mal & a3/4 day road-trip with Mal. The camper van idea may have to be scrapped in favour of B & B’s though unless I can find one with twin beds, at the moment they’re all doubles. Hmmmm.
Goodnight, sleep well,
Cx
Monday, November 22, 2004
Eating, running, shearing & meeting the Milkmaid.
I’m not going to pretend I’ve forgotten what the food’s like here
and I won’t lie & say the Tanners hold your arms behind your back whilst
pinching your nose & making ready with the gastrointestinal tube, but it’s
damn close.
This is what I ate on Saturday…
Weetabix
Toast
A full cooked breakfast
Numerous cups of tea, always with accompanying flapjack
Home-made pizzas
2 glasses of growed-up Ribena
2 ‘alps’ of Toblerone (if you’ve seen Billy, you’ll know what I mean)
It was whilst chewing on the 2nd bit of Toblerone that I recalled I had told myself
I would carry on my pledge to run on alternate days.
Bugger.
Having waited an hour for my food to clear the oesophagus I headed out the door.
As I left I heard Michelle telling Alice to go get the strawberries & cream, otherwise ‘the strawberries will go off’ Bleurgh.
I set off at a very slow pace undecided whether I needed to cry, vomit or stop the most. I would like to say it got easier after 10 minutes, but in fact it got harder until I turned around & headed for home. Somewhere near 35 minutes it felt good, but that’s because I could see Cedar Lodge again. Having run all the way up the drive (that will only mean anything to Bridget, Bloo & Stan) I fully expected a ticker-tape parade & a Red Devils fly-past.
Alice poked her head from under her blind & cheerfully informed me that everyone
‘had gone to bid’ It was 2050.
Shearing
The Tanner’s flock had missed being shorn earlier on in the year & were looking
distinctly uncomfortable humping around twice their bodyweight in fleece.
Richard, the local shearer, turned up to do them at 1330 yesterday & Alice & I
helped whilst Harri finished a school project.
It was lovely to be back in a woolshed again & I find shearing just as mesmerising now as I did earlier in the year.
And lo, a miracle came to pass and Eric COULD squat
Are you sure you're rounding up sheep Briggsy ?
High tea - Kiwi style
As we were just finishing Alice shouted ‘Bridget !’ & I got my first glimpse of the legendary Milkmaid. She sped past in her truck, leaving us a little confused until she subsequently explained, ‘I saw you all there, but I just HAD to go’ Ok then.
We got to know each other over the Wales-NZ game (surprisingly close score) and I was thoroughly charmed by her. You know how you have ideas about someone long before you meet from reading their Blog. Sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised & sometimes it’s a disappointment. This was definitely a good surprise. She is funny, clever, charming & says things like ‘Come on Alice, let’s see how tidy your room is’ What a great girl !
We have arranged to go to the Prince Albert this evening for an uninterrupted non-Harri conversation, although having thought about it Bridget, you’ll be driving & I’ll be driving ? Hmmm. Any suggestions ?
Today I reacquainted myself with Matamata, which is looking utterly charming.
A shopping trip for a USB lead for my camera also turned up a great-fitting pair of Levi’s boot-cut jeans. Nothing unusual there you might think. The price ? £20. Gotta love this country.
Stan was directly responsible for the new jeans, having made pointed comments about
‘disappearing ar5es’ in my other pair. It’s true, running does for your buttocks what a Wonderbra does for your breasts.
This afternoon when Eric got home from work, we dangled our feet in the pool whilst drinking tea & putting the world to rights. I kept meaning to put a bikini & suncream on but never got around to it, so now have red hands & knees.
As I type, the girls are doing their homework quietly. I’ll just type that again ‘quietly’.Eric has gone to ‘Pippins’ the fruit & veg shop to pick up some pig food. He gets it free for taking it off their hands. He left threatening acts of doom & destruction if the kids didn’t behave with the shouted codacil ‘No homework, no pool !’
Milky, your text just arrived, saying you are just leaving work at 0248 & that the weather is poo. Oh how I miss England J
Michelle is teaching today & has a long day in Hamilton, I think she said so I’m doing supper, something very difficult, creative & challenging – oh alright a Mexican.
That’s it for now, off to get a cold drink & ‘supervise’ the kids in the pool.
Now – where’s that book ?
Cx
I’m not going to pretend I’ve forgotten what the food’s like here
and I won’t lie & say the Tanners hold your arms behind your back whilst
pinching your nose & making ready with the gastrointestinal tube, but it’s
damn close.
This is what I ate on Saturday…
Weetabix
Toast
A full cooked breakfast
Numerous cups of tea, always with accompanying flapjack
Home-made pizzas
2 glasses of growed-up Ribena
2 ‘alps’ of Toblerone (if you’ve seen Billy, you’ll know what I mean)
It was whilst chewing on the 2nd bit of Toblerone that I recalled I had told myself
I would carry on my pledge to run on alternate days.
Bugger.
Having waited an hour for my food to clear the oesophagus I headed out the door.
As I left I heard Michelle telling Alice to go get the strawberries & cream, otherwise ‘the strawberries will go off’ Bleurgh.
I set off at a very slow pace undecided whether I needed to cry, vomit or stop the most. I would like to say it got easier after 10 minutes, but in fact it got harder until I turned around & headed for home. Somewhere near 35 minutes it felt good, but that’s because I could see Cedar Lodge again. Having run all the way up the drive (that will only mean anything to Bridget, Bloo & Stan) I fully expected a ticker-tape parade & a Red Devils fly-past.
Alice poked her head from under her blind & cheerfully informed me that everyone
‘had gone to bid’ It was 2050.
Shearing
The Tanner’s flock had missed being shorn earlier on in the year & were looking
distinctly uncomfortable humping around twice their bodyweight in fleece.
Richard, the local shearer, turned up to do them at 1330 yesterday & Alice & I
helped whilst Harri finished a school project.
It was lovely to be back in a woolshed again & I find shearing just as mesmerising now as I did earlier in the year.
As we were just finishing Alice shouted ‘Bridget !’ & I got my first glimpse of the legendary Milkmaid. She sped past in her truck, leaving us a little confused until she subsequently explained, ‘I saw you all there, but I just HAD to go’ Ok then.
We got to know each other over the Wales-NZ game (surprisingly close score) and I was thoroughly charmed by her. You know how you have ideas about someone long before you meet from reading their Blog. Sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised & sometimes it’s a disappointment. This was definitely a good surprise. She is funny, clever, charming & says things like ‘Come on Alice, let’s see how tidy your room is’ What a great girl !
We have arranged to go to the Prince Albert this evening for an uninterrupted non-Harri conversation, although having thought about it Bridget, you’ll be driving & I’ll be driving ? Hmmm. Any suggestions ?
Today I reacquainted myself with Matamata, which is looking utterly charming.
A shopping trip for a USB lead for my camera also turned up a great-fitting pair of Levi’s boot-cut jeans. Nothing unusual there you might think. The price ? £20. Gotta love this country.
Stan was directly responsible for the new jeans, having made pointed comments about
‘disappearing ar5es’ in my other pair. It’s true, running does for your buttocks what a Wonderbra does for your breasts.
This afternoon when Eric got home from work, we dangled our feet in the pool whilst drinking tea & putting the world to rights. I kept meaning to put a bikini & suncream on but never got around to it, so now have red hands & knees.
As I type, the girls are doing their homework quietly. I’ll just type that again ‘quietly’.Eric has gone to ‘Pippins’ the fruit & veg shop to pick up some pig food. He gets it free for taking it off their hands. He left threatening acts of doom & destruction if the kids didn’t behave with the shouted codacil ‘No homework, no pool !’
Milky, your text just arrived, saying you are just leaving work at 0248 & that the weather is poo. Oh how I miss England J
Michelle is teaching today & has a long day in Hamilton, I think she said so I’m doing supper, something very difficult, creative & challenging – oh alright a Mexican.
That’s it for now, off to get a cold drink & ‘supervise’ the kids in the pool.
Now – where’s that book ?
Cx
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Breathing underwater.
Listen up, question time.
How many of you have been in a lop-sided relationship ?
Needing more than you are needed. Caring more than you are cared for.
Hmm – I see a fair sprinkling of hands.
Sucks doesn’t it.
So we play the ‘backing-off game’. He’s/she’s not as interested in me, so I’ll keep my distance & be a woman/man of allure & he/she will want me more. Bullsh1t isn’t it ?
You may be wondering where I’m going with this ?
Well, for me it’s about New Zealand. When I left in April I felt physically bereft, I’m sure many of you got very bored of hearing about it. Most of you were wonderful, one person surprised me with a ‘pull yourself together’ lecture but then wouldn’t life be dull if everyone said what we wanted to hear all the time ? No, it would be great.
When I left it was with a huge collection of books, photos, keepsakes & curios.
I rationed myself to 3 special reminders which I keep on the back of my bedroom door.
The first 2 are keyrings, a cuddly Kiwi, bought as a keep-safe pressie for me, a cuddly sheep sent as a ‘cheer-up, not all Kiwi women are crazy bitches’ pressie & the green & gold sales disc for my filly ‘What Can I Say’ from Trelawney. Her number was 308.
I told myself that any more than these & my bedroom could begin to resemble a shrine to all things Kiwiana.
I backed off from NZ to lessen the pain at being away. I learned to tell half-truths when people asked if I had settled back into life in the UK. This has changed in the last week though. For the 2 days after Old Boys I immersed myself in all my memories, preparing for returning. My imminent arrival made them pleasant rather than bitter-sweet.
I took a long, slow wander around the farm this afternoon accompanied by Rust & Inca. They are terrific fun together & Rust has done Inca a power of good. He has muscled up nicely & shaken off the slightly stodgy attitude he had. He now relishes being top dog but the play between him & Rust is very good-humoured.
After checking the boundaries I sat & contemplated the sheep in the front paddock.
I noticed that one particularly clueless individual had decided the best way to get a drink of water was to climb into the trough. In the time honoured sheepy way, she could get in, but not out. It’s not easy to pull a sodden, panicking, animated fleece out of a trough & after I’d done it I was soaking wet & covered in excrement (or thesis for anyone reading this on D team !)
I have to say, it felt great, I miss being able to be plastered in cack on a daily basis, there’s not much scope for it in the Cad Room. I do remember though, being thrilled to dress like a gurl after my year away so perhaps you just want what you can’t have.
I’ve wandered off the point somewhat. I was thinking, as I watched the woolly-heads today & soaked up the sheer joie de vivre that Nature has to offer, was that for me, living in the UK has been akin to an air-breathing mammal trying to breathe under-water.
Ramifications & changes
I read your Blog today Bloo, you asked if people think of the ramifications of life after marriage beyond having a ‘nice day’ ? I think they do, I would certainly like to hope so. I think it’s more that humans are such fickle, complex creatures who undergo a process of change every day of their lives.
The lucky ones grow & change together, accommodating new things and enjoying each other.
We all know what happens to the unlucky ones.
One of the most romantic things I ever heard someone say was that he & his wife had a disagreement once & they didn’t like it, so they decided not to have any more. Would that we could all be as wise.
I’ve just re-read this, it’s verging on Hallmark cards stuff, but in the spirit of honesty, I’m not going to change it. I’ve just finished a run, so I blame the endorphins.
To the person who asked if I still had the text from my perfect day, I found it today when I swapped from my UK sim card to my NZ one.
It reads
‘Fantastic day, best yet. High on life, beauty & speed.
Could depart life now, utterly content’
Cx
Ps. I was going to talk about Eric returning today, but I suspect Michelle will have done that, see ‘www.wasamata.blogspot.com’ for life at Cedar Lodge if you haven’t already.
So I’ll say goodnight as I head off for a shower, talking book and the sandman.
Listen up, question time.
How many of you have been in a lop-sided relationship ?
Needing more than you are needed. Caring more than you are cared for.
Hmm – I see a fair sprinkling of hands.
Sucks doesn’t it.
So we play the ‘backing-off game’. He’s/she’s not as interested in me, so I’ll keep my distance & be a woman/man of allure & he/she will want me more. Bullsh1t isn’t it ?
You may be wondering where I’m going with this ?
Well, for me it’s about New Zealand. When I left in April I felt physically bereft, I’m sure many of you got very bored of hearing about it. Most of you were wonderful, one person surprised me with a ‘pull yourself together’ lecture but then wouldn’t life be dull if everyone said what we wanted to hear all the time ? No, it would be great.
When I left it was with a huge collection of books, photos, keepsakes & curios.
I rationed myself to 3 special reminders which I keep on the back of my bedroom door.
The first 2 are keyrings, a cuddly Kiwi, bought as a keep-safe pressie for me, a cuddly sheep sent as a ‘cheer-up, not all Kiwi women are crazy bitches’ pressie & the green & gold sales disc for my filly ‘What Can I Say’ from Trelawney. Her number was 308.
I told myself that any more than these & my bedroom could begin to resemble a shrine to all things Kiwiana.
I backed off from NZ to lessen the pain at being away. I learned to tell half-truths when people asked if I had settled back into life in the UK. This has changed in the last week though. For the 2 days after Old Boys I immersed myself in all my memories, preparing for returning. My imminent arrival made them pleasant rather than bitter-sweet.
I took a long, slow wander around the farm this afternoon accompanied by Rust & Inca. They are terrific fun together & Rust has done Inca a power of good. He has muscled up nicely & shaken off the slightly stodgy attitude he had. He now relishes being top dog but the play between him & Rust is very good-humoured.
After checking the boundaries I sat & contemplated the sheep in the front paddock.
I noticed that one particularly clueless individual had decided the best way to get a drink of water was to climb into the trough. In the time honoured sheepy way, she could get in, but not out. It’s not easy to pull a sodden, panicking, animated fleece out of a trough & after I’d done it I was soaking wet & covered in excrement (or thesis for anyone reading this on D team !)
I have to say, it felt great, I miss being able to be plastered in cack on a daily basis, there’s not much scope for it in the Cad Room. I do remember though, being thrilled to dress like a gurl after my year away so perhaps you just want what you can’t have.
I’ve wandered off the point somewhat. I was thinking, as I watched the woolly-heads today & soaked up the sheer joie de vivre that Nature has to offer, was that for me, living in the UK has been akin to an air-breathing mammal trying to breathe under-water.
Ramifications & changes
I read your Blog today Bloo, you asked if people think of the ramifications of life after marriage beyond having a ‘nice day’ ? I think they do, I would certainly like to hope so. I think it’s more that humans are such fickle, complex creatures who undergo a process of change every day of their lives.
The lucky ones grow & change together, accommodating new things and enjoying each other.
We all know what happens to the unlucky ones.
One of the most romantic things I ever heard someone say was that he & his wife had a disagreement once & they didn’t like it, so they decided not to have any more. Would that we could all be as wise.
I’ve just re-read this, it’s verging on Hallmark cards stuff, but in the spirit of honesty, I’m not going to change it. I’ve just finished a run, so I blame the endorphins.
To the person who asked if I still had the text from my perfect day, I found it today when I swapped from my UK sim card to my NZ one.
It reads
‘Fantastic day, best yet. High on life, beauty & speed.
Could depart life now, utterly content’
Cx
Ps. I was going to talk about Eric returning today, but I suspect Michelle will have done that, see ‘www.wasamata.blogspot.com’ for life at Cedar Lodge if you haven’t already.
So I’ll say goodnight as I head off for a shower, talking book and the sandman.
Friday, November 19, 2004
Home
Remember on one of my previous blogs I said the weather was like him upstairs hadn’t flicked the switch on ? Today he did us proud, in glorious Metro Goldwyn Mayer Technicolour.
Everything is so fresh & vivid here it’s hurting my eyes, thank goodness I brought my shades.
The excitement was at simmering level as I disembarked Singapore Airlines SQ285 at 1120 today.
Auckland airport looked clean and inviting and it was a lovely surprise to find not 1, but 3 Tanner ladies at the airport to greet me. I cried – of course.
From the moment the customs official wished me a pleasant stay, whilst making eye contact and
meaning it, today has been a day long seduction of my senses reminding me how much I adore this wonderful place.
The 2 hour drive back on deserted roads was a good way for us all to catch up on the news, mostly what happened at Old Boys. A quick stop in Matamata for Michelle to get some bits & I awaited her outside the Post Office, barefoot & daydreaming, relishing the heat of the pavement on the soles of my feet.
The noise as we arrived at Cedar Lodge was overwhelming. Birds chattered incessantly, lambs bleated, and piglets grunted. Complete sensory overload, and more green than your retina can deal with. I wanted to cry again.
5 minutes later & the girls were in the pool with Harri showing complete abandon & skinny-dipping. What parent wouldn’t want that for their kid ?
The heat has begun to have an effect already. After just an hour of sitting in the sun reading, I
experienced that tremendous feel-good glow of almost aphrodisiac proportions.
Had a long catch-up call with the Milkmaid (hellish fast worker, she tried to set me up on a date tomorrow !) She is coming over on Sunday after work so I finally get to meet her and we can have a good old gossip in person.
This evening Michelle & I took a tour of the farm. (I think this is where I was if you phoned then Bloo ?) We watered her veg plot, liberated a stupid ovine, petted Claire’s neddies, inspected the fruit trees, oohed & aahed over the piglets, examined the colostrum which has to be smelled to be believed, saw the new calves, checked out ‘Carol’, the calf who was born the 1st day I arrived at Cedar Lodge and took in the views.
Perfect.
A planned deck supper was scuppered by a freshening breeze but as I type this I have the customary G&T by my right hand.
A hot bubble bath awaits & a talking book.
I am very impressed with myself for staying awake all day today, as I landed at the airport at the equivalent of 2220 for me. As this goes to press I haven’t slept for 28 hours.
Eric arrives 0830 tomorrow local time, then Michelle can start to relax a little.
All is well.
Cx
Almost forgot, the lovely man at the airport stamped my passport for 6 months.
Remember on one of my previous blogs I said the weather was like him upstairs hadn’t flicked the switch on ? Today he did us proud, in glorious Metro Goldwyn Mayer Technicolour.
Everything is so fresh & vivid here it’s hurting my eyes, thank goodness I brought my shades.
The excitement was at simmering level as I disembarked Singapore Airlines SQ285 at 1120 today.
Auckland airport looked clean and inviting and it was a lovely surprise to find not 1, but 3 Tanner ladies at the airport to greet me. I cried – of course.
From the moment the customs official wished me a pleasant stay, whilst making eye contact and
meaning it, today has been a day long seduction of my senses reminding me how much I adore this wonderful place.
The 2 hour drive back on deserted roads was a good way for us all to catch up on the news, mostly what happened at Old Boys. A quick stop in Matamata for Michelle to get some bits & I awaited her outside the Post Office, barefoot & daydreaming, relishing the heat of the pavement on the soles of my feet.
The noise as we arrived at Cedar Lodge was overwhelming. Birds chattered incessantly, lambs bleated, and piglets grunted. Complete sensory overload, and more green than your retina can deal with. I wanted to cry again.
5 minutes later & the girls were in the pool with Harri showing complete abandon & skinny-dipping. What parent wouldn’t want that for their kid ?
The heat has begun to have an effect already. After just an hour of sitting in the sun reading, I
experienced that tremendous feel-good glow of almost aphrodisiac proportions.
Had a long catch-up call with the Milkmaid (hellish fast worker, she tried to set me up on a date tomorrow !) She is coming over on Sunday after work so I finally get to meet her and we can have a good old gossip in person.
This evening Michelle & I took a tour of the farm. (I think this is where I was if you phoned then Bloo ?) We watered her veg plot, liberated a stupid ovine, petted Claire’s neddies, inspected the fruit trees, oohed & aahed over the piglets, examined the colostrum which has to be smelled to be believed, saw the new calves, checked out ‘Carol’, the calf who was born the 1st day I arrived at Cedar Lodge and took in the views.
Perfect.
A planned deck supper was scuppered by a freshening breeze but as I type this I have the customary G&T by my right hand.
A hot bubble bath awaits & a talking book.
I am very impressed with myself for staying awake all day today, as I landed at the airport at the equivalent of 2220 for me. As this goes to press I haven’t slept for 28 hours.
Eric arrives 0830 tomorrow local time, then Michelle can start to relax a little.
All is well.
Cx
Almost forgot, the lovely man at the airport stamped my passport for 6 months.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Sling-a-paw
Just a quickie, as they have limited pooter use here to 15 mins. Boo.
Still a stunningly beautiful airport though.
Very hot, 1928 local time, 1128 Briggsy time.
Watched 'The Terminal', 'King Arthur' and 'The Bourne Supremacy' to while
away the 12 hour flight.
The 1st & last were superb, the middle one was awful, but at least it had neddies & fighting.
Keira Knightley looked like someone who had forgotten where she had put her
shopping list.
Great food, sat next to a guy from Limerick who was a nervous flyer, he dealt
with it by getting pi55ed & talking non-stop.
All he needed to do was repeatedly tap me left arm & it would have been Milky
all over again. (nb. Milky not Milkmaid)
I watched the screen non-stop cos it meant I didn't have to watch nauseatingly
touchy-feely couple who have obviously just discovered intercour5e.
He was a scary Brian Glover lookee-likee & she was a 'kookee-chick' complete
with spiky bed-head. Every time she climbed over him to go to the loo
he bounced up & down on his chair, simulating secks (will that get thru the job firewall ? possibly not ?)
I leave in another 90 minutes bound for Auckland.
1 more 12 hour journey & it's the promised land for me.
By the way D team, I might be late for work :)
Cx
Just a quickie, as they have limited pooter use here to 15 mins. Boo.
Still a stunningly beautiful airport though.
Very hot, 1928 local time, 1128 Briggsy time.
Watched 'The Terminal', 'King Arthur' and 'The Bourne Supremacy' to while
away the 12 hour flight.
The 1st & last were superb, the middle one was awful, but at least it had neddies & fighting.
Keira Knightley looked like someone who had forgotten where she had put her
shopping list.
Great food, sat next to a guy from Limerick who was a nervous flyer, he dealt
with it by getting pi55ed & talking non-stop.
All he needed to do was repeatedly tap me left arm & it would have been Milky
all over again. (nb. Milky not Milkmaid)
I watched the screen non-stop cos it meant I didn't have to watch nauseatingly
touchy-feely couple who have obviously just discovered intercour5e.
He was a scary Brian Glover lookee-likee & she was a 'kookee-chick' complete
with spiky bed-head. Every time she climbed over him to go to the loo
he bounced up & down on his chair, simulating secks (will that get thru the job firewall ? possibly not ?)
I leave in another 90 minutes bound for Auckland.
1 more 12 hour journey & it's the promised land for me.
By the way D team, I might be late for work :)
Cx
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
What an epic few days.
This will be a relatively short blog as I am supposed to be packing.
I have tried to put several comments on other people’s blogs but I am being blocked for some reason, so I am doing an entry here to catch up.
I couldn’t begin to write about every aspect of the weekend & hopefully the photos will tell their own story. I neglected to take my camera out of its case for the whole weekend so if you want to see photos try …
Bloo4U or The Stan Files/Q Blog or Forum (plenty to keep you going for the time being)
I will describe elements of the weekend as & how they return to me & also try to explain a few of the weirder photos.
I finished work at 0600 on Friday morning and came home to find Eric on the phone to home. He had gone to bed at midnight & been awake at 0300, so was catching up with all the girls at home. After breakfast I went to bed for a few hours til 1200.
We paid a lightning visit to the fancy dress shop to get outfits for Stan & Eric & then aimed for the M25/M20 & Dover...
We were both feeling ropey & anticipating a ‘lively’ evening so we stopped at Clackett Lane for Pro-Plus and Red Bull. We did wonder briefly what would happen if we peaked before reaching Dover.
Once there, we parked outside & briefly discussed the possibility of sneaking off to our rooms for a granny-nap. Having discounted this as unrealistic & slightly anti-social, we girded ourselves to face the reception committee.
We met & chatted with the early arrivers, including Neil, Bruce, Sean, Coggers (aka Curly-Wurly) & Joe Here. The Cedar Lodge fire story featured heavily and also the time I was left, briefly, but not briefly enough in charge of a small domestic fire (& a container of diesel) at Ceol-ny-Mara.
‘Fire ! Fire !’
We once again brought the venue to a silent standstill be repeating Hitman’s outrageous confession. I love that story.
Friday was due to be a relatively quiet night so that we could manage Saturday. Needless to say, it was not. I got to bed somewhere around 3 after the night of ‘pant dungarees’ and ‘give me chicken Ramesh’
In between time, we spent our time in The Britannia. Up until Friday night, I thought the scuzziest pubs in England were to be found in Lambeth. I was so so wrong. Someone had even stolen the wallpaper from the Ladies, beat that, I defy you. Hx introduced me to a scarily addictive sludge called a ‘Mudslide’, which was a mix of coffee milkshake and vodka. It was evil. Cheers Hx, I owe you. That single drink accounts for the ‘You’re my besssht friend in the whole wide world’ look I am casting at Eric in the picture of him, Bloo & myself.
Pant dungarees originated because Bloo decided the best place for his KFC rubbish was down the back of my trousers. Unfortunately, he also grabbed a handful of thong, which got me to wondering if I could pull them over my shoulders like a wrestler’s leotard,
At the time the photograph was taken I am shouting
‘Rock on Tommy’
Oscar Wilde must be spinning in his grave.
Prior to that photo we had turned up ‘starving’ at KFC. We spent a long time deciding on our order & put it to Ramesh who happily informed us they were out of chicken. This prompted my rather determined sally upon the counter. I think I had it in my head to check & see if he was lying.
I am sporting a rather colourful bruise on my right shin now.
Saturday morning arrived all too quickly. We swapped war stories over a cooked breakfast then headed off for Folkestone Vets – v – Dukies of 85.
It was a hugely entertaining game, not least due to Jonny Davis’ legs and the repetitious but amusing banter from the Dukie support.
‘Throw the ball to Julian’ was the common refrain. (Julian being the very quick winger who most closely resembled a sportsman)
I think I’m right in reporting the score as 3 tries to nil for the Dukies.
After this, people moved inside for a pickled egg eating competition & a drinking a bottle of beer the fastest competition. Never let it be said that Dukies aren’t a sophisticated bunch. The winner was magnificent but I wouldn’t have wanted to share a room with him.
We watched the slightly embarrassing spectacle of the England - Canada walk-over then headed off to the hotel. Power-nap for me. Visiting rellys for Bloo.
Once dressed I realised belatedly I had forgotten big knickers to go under my rather short tunic. Luckily Hx came to the rescue with a pair of black cycling shorts. What an organiser, not only did she have some for herself but had brought a spare pair too. Even the mighty Mrs T would admire that level of preparedness.
With me dressed more appropriately we headed off to the Castle for a night of drinking, karaoke, falling-over, molestation, drink-throwing, show-food, dancing, shouting and illicit snogging. That was just me; I couldn’t tell you what anyone else got up to.
The funniest sight of the evening (with apologies to Hx) was when someone called Kevin or ‘Muggers’ arrived. It was a surprise to both Stan & Hx & neither one of them had seen him for several years. He had flown in from Colorado (I think) & they had no idea he was coming. Stan collapsed in a big, snotty, tearful heap on a slightly bemused Mugger’s shoulder, but Hx’s reaction was far more impressive.
Espying him from inside the pub, she raced out on 4” stiletto heels to greet him. Her shoes took her as far as the outside of the door, where they collapsed, catapulting her at a huge rate of knots to the floor. She landed in a position reminiscent of a quadruped practicing yoga with each leg facing in a different & unlikely position. You know how giraffe’s legs go when they stoop to drink from a watering-hole ? Like that.
Whilst falling, Hx threw her pint of Stella in the air. Not the glass you understand, just the contents. The liquid, still assuming the shape of the receptacle, described a perfect arc and landed in her pink bobbed wig.
Having watched the triple salko with pike twist, Muggers raised one wry eyebrow & said ‘Hello Helen’. Classic.
The resulting cut to her leg was much more impressive than your feeble elbow abrasion Bloo.
It was over all too quickly and, under the impression that we were heading for a club, I ran off, vaulting traffic islands (thank god for the cycling shorts) and anything in my way to start queuing at ‘Nuage’ or ‘New-Age’ as Doverians refer to it.
There was a large chav quotient in the queue whose reaction to my outfit, reminded me that I was dressed as a cat. I am surprised to report I had forgotten.
Once rescued from the slightly hostile crowd, we headed back to the County hotel for more drinks & another land-speed-attempt on KFC (they had chicken this time, obviously fearing another onslaught from a gobby, disappointed, counter-scaling Tyke)
During this walk home I vaguely remember being rugby-tackled by a passer-by. Bloo says the chap just held my knees together, whilst I fell, pathetically backwards, but my recollection is much more dramatic. Either way, I didn’t drop my chicken.
By midnight I had that ‘must go to bed’ feeling so saying the briefest of goodnights I headed for bed. I had just washed & changed into my jammies when I was rudely disturbed by a raucous Stan, Hx & Bloo.
We put the world to rights and decided we are all better off as sad lonely losers because as Stan put it ‘things only get messy once you get your willy involved’.
After the obligatory group photos we turned in for what should have been a very comfortable night, but was slightly spoiled by the group of chav kids who raced up & down the corridors on the 3rd floor playing the hotel equivalent of ‘knock-down-ginger’.
If only I could have raised my fat, throbbing head from the pillow they would have felt the rough edge of my tongue.
Sunday morning arrived in 3 hours & I was awoken by an annoyingly chipper Bloo with the Sunday papers. ‘I’ve been up for about an hour’ said he, only saving himself from certain doom by uttering his next sentence ‘Would you like tea ?’
After another cholesterol-packed brekkie and a change into smart clothing we set off for The Remembrance Day parade. I hadn’t expected the school to be so beautiful. Sweeping 400 acre grounds, established deciduous trees & the most stately of buildings scattered around the grounds combined to make me feel thoroughly overwhelmed.
The Duke of York Royal Military School didn’t admit girls when I was at school (some say they shouldn’t now) but I couldn’t help but be very envious that the lads had attended this very illustrious establishment.
Duke of York’s and what it represents to these people who meet up every year was starting to have some meaning.
After a parade with a fine-sounding young band, we headed to the Cenotaph for the 2 minute silence. I was disappointed with the behaviour of lots of the boys I saw during parade. This isn’t me being unfair, perhaps it’s just that girls respond better to discipline at that young age but I saw several lads fidgeting during the silence.
One chap in front of me shifted his weight from foot to foot as well as chewing gum. I know I’m harsh but if he’d been my kid, he would have been grounded for a week.
Bloo reckoned the emphasis has shifted from the military to academic prowess. Why not both, I want to know ?
After more chatting after parade, we headed off to (you’re ahead of me aren’t you ?) the pub yet again. I managed an orange-juice and lemonade and then it was time for the farewells.
With everyone promising to see each other in a year, we headed off to get stuck in the 3 day old tailbacks on the M25.
The End
Having spent the weekend surrounded by other people, it was a welcome diversion when Bill suggested the cinema on Sunday evening. We went to see Bridget Jones - Edge of Reason which was as good as the 1st. The 2 shots to look out for are the panoramic, Pan London, pull-back shot from Bridget looking out of her flat window. Very expensive, very Moulin Rouge, very effective. And also the final graveyard scene – quite stunningly beautiful.
Today Milky came to lunch to give me some travelling CD’s and to try & work out why my pooter won’t let me get into my Yahoo account. He failed but made up for it in company stakes. He is finding his way around Q4A & finds it very confusing to see references to another Milky. Will it have to be Bridget & Milky from now on ?
Speaking of which, thanks for the pressie Bridget, I hope they weren’t for Xmas, Eric has eaten most of them already ;) It was a beautiful name ticket, you are a clever girl.
I know I’ve missed loads out & I apologise (especially to the person who has difficulty with doors, but you’ll understand why)
I may get chance to Blog again tomorrow before leaving at about 6pm.
If I don’t – see you on the other side
Cx
This will be a relatively short blog as I am supposed to be packing.
I have tried to put several comments on other people’s blogs but I am being blocked for some reason, so I am doing an entry here to catch up.
I couldn’t begin to write about every aspect of the weekend & hopefully the photos will tell their own story. I neglected to take my camera out of its case for the whole weekend so if you want to see photos try …
Bloo4U or The Stan Files/Q Blog or Forum (plenty to keep you going for the time being)
I will describe elements of the weekend as & how they return to me & also try to explain a few of the weirder photos.
I finished work at 0600 on Friday morning and came home to find Eric on the phone to home. He had gone to bed at midnight & been awake at 0300, so was catching up with all the girls at home. After breakfast I went to bed for a few hours til 1200.
We paid a lightning visit to the fancy dress shop to get outfits for Stan & Eric & then aimed for the M25/M20 & Dover...
We were both feeling ropey & anticipating a ‘lively’ evening so we stopped at Clackett Lane for Pro-Plus and Red Bull. We did wonder briefly what would happen if we peaked before reaching Dover.
Once there, we parked outside & briefly discussed the possibility of sneaking off to our rooms for a granny-nap. Having discounted this as unrealistic & slightly anti-social, we girded ourselves to face the reception committee.
We met & chatted with the early arrivers, including Neil, Bruce, Sean, Coggers (aka Curly-Wurly) & Joe Here. The Cedar Lodge fire story featured heavily and also the time I was left, briefly, but not briefly enough in charge of a small domestic fire (& a container of diesel) at Ceol-ny-Mara.
‘Fire ! Fire !’
We once again brought the venue to a silent standstill be repeating Hitman’s outrageous confession. I love that story.
Friday was due to be a relatively quiet night so that we could manage Saturday. Needless to say, it was not. I got to bed somewhere around 3 after the night of ‘pant dungarees’ and ‘give me chicken Ramesh’
In between time, we spent our time in The Britannia. Up until Friday night, I thought the scuzziest pubs in England were to be found in Lambeth. I was so so wrong. Someone had even stolen the wallpaper from the Ladies, beat that, I defy you. Hx introduced me to a scarily addictive sludge called a ‘Mudslide’, which was a mix of coffee milkshake and vodka. It was evil. Cheers Hx, I owe you. That single drink accounts for the ‘You’re my besssht friend in the whole wide world’ look I am casting at Eric in the picture of him, Bloo & myself.
Pant dungarees originated because Bloo decided the best place for his KFC rubbish was down the back of my trousers. Unfortunately, he also grabbed a handful of thong, which got me to wondering if I could pull them over my shoulders like a wrestler’s leotard,
At the time the photograph was taken I am shouting
‘Rock on Tommy’
Oscar Wilde must be spinning in his grave.
Prior to that photo we had turned up ‘starving’ at KFC. We spent a long time deciding on our order & put it to Ramesh who happily informed us they were out of chicken. This prompted my rather determined sally upon the counter. I think I had it in my head to check & see if he was lying.
I am sporting a rather colourful bruise on my right shin now.
Saturday morning arrived all too quickly. We swapped war stories over a cooked breakfast then headed off for Folkestone Vets – v – Dukies of 85.
It was a hugely entertaining game, not least due to Jonny Davis’ legs and the repetitious but amusing banter from the Dukie support.
‘Throw the ball to Julian’ was the common refrain. (Julian being the very quick winger who most closely resembled a sportsman)
I think I’m right in reporting the score as 3 tries to nil for the Dukies.
After this, people moved inside for a pickled egg eating competition & a drinking a bottle of beer the fastest competition. Never let it be said that Dukies aren’t a sophisticated bunch. The winner was magnificent but I wouldn’t have wanted to share a room with him.
We watched the slightly embarrassing spectacle of the England - Canada walk-over then headed off to the hotel. Power-nap for me. Visiting rellys for Bloo.
Once dressed I realised belatedly I had forgotten big knickers to go under my rather short tunic. Luckily Hx came to the rescue with a pair of black cycling shorts. What an organiser, not only did she have some for herself but had brought a spare pair too. Even the mighty Mrs T would admire that level of preparedness.
With me dressed more appropriately we headed off to the Castle for a night of drinking, karaoke, falling-over, molestation, drink-throwing, show-food, dancing, shouting and illicit snogging. That was just me; I couldn’t tell you what anyone else got up to.
The funniest sight of the evening (with apologies to Hx) was when someone called Kevin or ‘Muggers’ arrived. It was a surprise to both Stan & Hx & neither one of them had seen him for several years. He had flown in from Colorado (I think) & they had no idea he was coming. Stan collapsed in a big, snotty, tearful heap on a slightly bemused Mugger’s shoulder, but Hx’s reaction was far more impressive.
Espying him from inside the pub, she raced out on 4” stiletto heels to greet him. Her shoes took her as far as the outside of the door, where they collapsed, catapulting her at a huge rate of knots to the floor. She landed in a position reminiscent of a quadruped practicing yoga with each leg facing in a different & unlikely position. You know how giraffe’s legs go when they stoop to drink from a watering-hole ? Like that.
Whilst falling, Hx threw her pint of Stella in the air. Not the glass you understand, just the contents. The liquid, still assuming the shape of the receptacle, described a perfect arc and landed in her pink bobbed wig.
Having watched the triple salko with pike twist, Muggers raised one wry eyebrow & said ‘Hello Helen’. Classic.
The resulting cut to her leg was much more impressive than your feeble elbow abrasion Bloo.
It was over all too quickly and, under the impression that we were heading for a club, I ran off, vaulting traffic islands (thank god for the cycling shorts) and anything in my way to start queuing at ‘Nuage’ or ‘New-Age’ as Doverians refer to it.
There was a large chav quotient in the queue whose reaction to my outfit, reminded me that I was dressed as a cat. I am surprised to report I had forgotten.
Once rescued from the slightly hostile crowd, we headed back to the County hotel for more drinks & another land-speed-attempt on KFC (they had chicken this time, obviously fearing another onslaught from a gobby, disappointed, counter-scaling Tyke)
During this walk home I vaguely remember being rugby-tackled by a passer-by. Bloo says the chap just held my knees together, whilst I fell, pathetically backwards, but my recollection is much more dramatic. Either way, I didn’t drop my chicken.
By midnight I had that ‘must go to bed’ feeling so saying the briefest of goodnights I headed for bed. I had just washed & changed into my jammies when I was rudely disturbed by a raucous Stan, Hx & Bloo.
We put the world to rights and decided we are all better off as sad lonely losers because as Stan put it ‘things only get messy once you get your willy involved’.
After the obligatory group photos we turned in for what should have been a very comfortable night, but was slightly spoiled by the group of chav kids who raced up & down the corridors on the 3rd floor playing the hotel equivalent of ‘knock-down-ginger’.
If only I could have raised my fat, throbbing head from the pillow they would have felt the rough edge of my tongue.
Sunday morning arrived in 3 hours & I was awoken by an annoyingly chipper Bloo with the Sunday papers. ‘I’ve been up for about an hour’ said he, only saving himself from certain doom by uttering his next sentence ‘Would you like tea ?’
After another cholesterol-packed brekkie and a change into smart clothing we set off for The Remembrance Day parade. I hadn’t expected the school to be so beautiful. Sweeping 400 acre grounds, established deciduous trees & the most stately of buildings scattered around the grounds combined to make me feel thoroughly overwhelmed.
The Duke of York Royal Military School didn’t admit girls when I was at school (some say they shouldn’t now) but I couldn’t help but be very envious that the lads had attended this very illustrious establishment.
Duke of York’s and what it represents to these people who meet up every year was starting to have some meaning.
After a parade with a fine-sounding young band, we headed to the Cenotaph for the 2 minute silence. I was disappointed with the behaviour of lots of the boys I saw during parade. This isn’t me being unfair, perhaps it’s just that girls respond better to discipline at that young age but I saw several lads fidgeting during the silence.
One chap in front of me shifted his weight from foot to foot as well as chewing gum. I know I’m harsh but if he’d been my kid, he would have been grounded for a week.
Bloo reckoned the emphasis has shifted from the military to academic prowess. Why not both, I want to know ?
After more chatting after parade, we headed off to (you’re ahead of me aren’t you ?) the pub yet again. I managed an orange-juice and lemonade and then it was time for the farewells.
With everyone promising to see each other in a year, we headed off to get stuck in the 3 day old tailbacks on the M25.
The End
Having spent the weekend surrounded by other people, it was a welcome diversion when Bill suggested the cinema on Sunday evening. We went to see Bridget Jones - Edge of Reason which was as good as the 1st. The 2 shots to look out for are the panoramic, Pan London, pull-back shot from Bridget looking out of her flat window. Very expensive, very Moulin Rouge, very effective. And also the final graveyard scene – quite stunningly beautiful.
Today Milky came to lunch to give me some travelling CD’s and to try & work out why my pooter won’t let me get into my Yahoo account. He failed but made up for it in company stakes. He is finding his way around Q4A & finds it very confusing to see references to another Milky. Will it have to be Bridget & Milky from now on ?
Speaking of which, thanks for the pressie Bridget, I hope they weren’t for Xmas, Eric has eaten most of them already ;) It was a beautiful name ticket, you are a clever girl.
I know I’ve missed loads out & I apologise (especially to the person who has difficulty with doors, but you’ll understand why)
I may get chance to Blog again tomorrow before leaving at about 6pm.
If I don’t – see you on the other side
Cx
Friday, November 12, 2004
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Ever had one of those moments … ?
… when you wish you were anywhere but where you are ?
Picture the scene …
I had hurt my ankle running on Monday & tried to run through the pain, unsurprisingly aggravating it more. I decided to lessen the impact of today’s exercise by using one of those cross-trainers. I’m sure you’ve seen them but if not, imagine cross-country ski-ing whilst pushing upright bars back & forth.
Bloody stupid things.
Anyway, I clambered on & got stuck in, finding it surprisingly hard work & working up a gratifying sweat in a very short space of time.
I reached for my drink to quench my thirst and at this point things started to go awry.
I let go of the bars to raise the bottle to my lips. The bars continue to move back & forth, seemingly of their own accord, but moved, in fact, by the energy generated from your still moving legs.
With the most comically bad timing the bar caught my elbow, tipping the contents of my drink all over my face & head. If it had been water I would have pretended that I was just very hot & trying to cool down.
As it was it was Lucozade.
And I was in the front row of cross-trainers.
Directly in front of the tv screens.
And every other gym user.
I had programmed the machine to run for 50 minutes and tipped the contents of the bottle over myself at 7 minutes. The next 43 minutes were best described as uncomfortable.
At the point I clambered off the machine & headed for the door, I was still blushing.
Bugger.
It was a tomato & basil soup moment Hx.
Cx
… when you wish you were anywhere but where you are ?
Picture the scene …
I had hurt my ankle running on Monday & tried to run through the pain, unsurprisingly aggravating it more. I decided to lessen the impact of today’s exercise by using one of those cross-trainers. I’m sure you’ve seen them but if not, imagine cross-country ski-ing whilst pushing upright bars back & forth.
Bloody stupid things.
Anyway, I clambered on & got stuck in, finding it surprisingly hard work & working up a gratifying sweat in a very short space of time.
I reached for my drink to quench my thirst and at this point things started to go awry.
I let go of the bars to raise the bottle to my lips. The bars continue to move back & forth, seemingly of their own accord, but moved, in fact, by the energy generated from your still moving legs.
With the most comically bad timing the bar caught my elbow, tipping the contents of my drink all over my face & head. If it had been water I would have pretended that I was just very hot & trying to cool down.
As it was it was Lucozade.
And I was in the front row of cross-trainers.
Directly in front of the tv screens.
And every other gym user.
I had programmed the machine to run for 50 minutes and tipped the contents of the bottle over myself at 7 minutes. The next 43 minutes were best described as uncomfortable.
At the point I clambered off the machine & headed for the door, I was still blushing.
Bugger.
It was a tomato & basil soup moment Hx.
Cx
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
BIGGEST GANG IN THE WORLD
A good friend of mine describes being in the met (Police) as belonging to the biggest gang in the world.
The downside of that is the sometimes impersonal feel from working for such a large organisation.
Requests for time off for important reasons can appear overlooked in the general hurly burly of trying to provide enough officers to look after Londoners on busy weekends.
The upside of working for the Met is you have the opportunity to forge strong friendships with incredible people whilst doing very difficult work.
Occasionally, you can call upon these friendships & even if time has elapsed since you did what you did together, you know that when you parted & they said 'If I can do anything for you let me know' they meant it.
The last 24 hours has been a flurry of phone calls, testing those friendships, for another friend.
At one point we had Plan A, Plan B & a very magnanimous offer of a Plan C (I am proud of you)
This is getting complicated isn't it ?
Suffice it to say, I was expecting to have heard something by midday today.
At 3pm, I received a text from Stan with just two words 'Bad news' and my heart sank.
Before I could even reply to the text my phone rang.
'Bad news' he intoned, repeating the words.
'Go on' I said, trying to be mature.
'YOU HAVE TO PUT UP WITH MY DRUNKEN ANTICS FOR THREE DAYS - I'M GOING' !
he bellowed.
The scene is set, Mr Tanner arrives in England in a little under 24 hours, 2 other 'special guests' are en route.
Bring on Old Boys 2004 !
And as for working for the biggest gang in the world ? Today it feels just great.
Old Boys without Stan would have been like treacle sponge without the treacle.
Greta - your stage awaits - don't disappoint us !
Cx
ps Coven member - you rock :)
A good friend of mine describes being in the met (Police) as belonging to the biggest gang in the world.
The downside of that is the sometimes impersonal feel from working for such a large organisation.
Requests for time off for important reasons can appear overlooked in the general hurly burly of trying to provide enough officers to look after Londoners on busy weekends.
The upside of working for the Met is you have the opportunity to forge strong friendships with incredible people whilst doing very difficult work.
Occasionally, you can call upon these friendships & even if time has elapsed since you did what you did together, you know that when you parted & they said 'If I can do anything for you let me know' they meant it.
The last 24 hours has been a flurry of phone calls, testing those friendships, for another friend.
At one point we had Plan A, Plan B & a very magnanimous offer of a Plan C (I am proud of you)
This is getting complicated isn't it ?
Suffice it to say, I was expecting to have heard something by midday today.
At 3pm, I received a text from Stan with just two words 'Bad news' and my heart sank.
Before I could even reply to the text my phone rang.
'Bad news' he intoned, repeating the words.
'Go on' I said, trying to be mature.
'YOU HAVE TO PUT UP WITH MY DRUNKEN ANTICS FOR THREE DAYS - I'M GOING' !
he bellowed.
The scene is set, Mr Tanner arrives in England in a little under 24 hours, 2 other 'special guests' are en route.
Bring on Old Boys 2004 !
And as for working for the biggest gang in the world ? Today it feels just great.
Old Boys without Stan would have been like treacle sponge without the treacle.
Greta - your stage awaits - don't disappoint us !
Cx
ps Coven member - you rock :)
Saturday, November 06, 2004
Greetings
Have tried 3 times to Blog recently with no success, there’s some kind of glitch with the dashboard publishing bit. It lets me type but that’s it. More frustratingly still, each time I have lacked the forethought to save my entry on Word a la ‘lovely Michelle’.
Speaking of which Michelle, in answer to your text, yes I did wish I was on the deck with you at 2030, drinking grown up Ribena on a warm evening after a day’s gardening.
More of that later.
So – what have I been up to lately ?
I have been (whisper this next bit) going to the gym. I have had a lifelong aversion to gyms, all those sweaty posers in lycra make me feel uncomfortable. I have always preferred to do any physical activity outdoors in non-cling clothing.
Recently, however, I was convinced of the benefits of Pilates so signed up to a 6 week course to teach me the basics, meaning I could be let loose in a class with growed-ups.
I have a feeling this may be a lengthy Blog so will restrict my comments about Pilates to this : it’s excellent. Difficult to explain & impossible to understand how such slow, controlled movements can make you feel so good, but it does.
A revelation.
I initially signed up to the Pilates to improve my riding but have slowly added bits and pieces to my gym visits. I now run every other day (and can step nonchalantly on & off a moving treadmill, without skinning my face). I then finish with a 40 length swim (20 crawl, 20 breaststroke), and then as a treat (note Alice, not ice-cream) a session in the steam room and the jacuzzi.
I am fully aware that nobody but me finds my achievements in the gym interesting and I know I run the risk of becoming a gym bore (or at least a published gym bore) and yet I will say that the satisfaction from running for 50 minutes is something I am really enjoying. I should elaborate there, I don’t in any way, shape or form, enjoy running, the enjoyment comes from forcing my body to do something my brain is telling it not to.
Never one of Nature’s runners, I picked Paul’s brains as to how I could most efficiently put my feet quickly one in front of the other. Paul is a PC I work with whose levels of fitness I can only aspire to. He is one of those deluded fools who finds enjoyment in fell-running. He seems quite normal otherwise.
He asked lots of informed questions about duration, heart-rate & recovery rate and decided I was killing myself. I was perversely pleased to note he said I was ‘running too hard’, not something I’ve ever been accused of before.
With his advice to decrease my speed and increase my distance by a 5% weekly increment, I should be polishing off marathons in no time.
During my last 2 visits, I have run for 50 minutes and 6 kays, not something I’ve ever managed before. Soon, I’ll be turning the treadmill on.
Confession – time.
*********************
My march towards middle-aged gathers momentum …
As a self-confessed fan of John Humphries, Alan Titchmarsh, Bill Oddie, good grammar, Gardener’s Question Time (particularly tragic as I don’t even have a garden), tweed skirts, hunting prints, well-polished brogues etc, I will also own-up to being fascinated by ‘Strictly Come Dancing’.
I’m not quite sure what it is. I don’t know whether it’s Brucie, who I have always thought a consumate entertainer (I used to love The Generation Game) or the lovely Natasha Kiplinsky (if only she’d keep quiet) or just the sequins and feathers (I have to be physically restrained in haberdashers)
but I am captivated.
Being one of the few people in the Western world sans tv, I had timed my visit to the treadmills to coincide with The X-Factor because I consider Sharon Osbourne to be the epitome of womanhood.
Oddly, although the screens were showing Sky News, MTV and BBC1, they were neglecting ITV.
Just at the point that Roger Black was about to dance, a young member of staff questioned all the victims nearest the screens on the treadmills as to whether they were watching ‘Strictly’ as it shall henceforth be known and if not, could he change the channel to ITV ?
Being a feeble person, too afraid to make a scene, I quickly averted my eyes from the screen, lied, and claimed to be watching MTV. Thankfully, 2 portly ladies to my right with more personal conviction than I, stood up to the youth and said yes, they were watching. Hurray for scary ladies !
Lots to look forward to in the next few weeks.
***************************************************
I will save Old Boys for another entry & stick with my impending holiday to NZ.
10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go etc etc.
I am driving my poor work colleagues to distraction.
Just writing about it reduces me to a frenzy of anticipation and this morning as I drifted off to sleep (I am night duty) I envisaged being in the plane & looking down on my would-be adopted homeland from the air. Arriving in NZ is going to be an awful lot easier than arriving at Heathrow was on April 22nd this year.
The things I am looking forward to most, in no particular order are …
The Tanners
Cedar Lodge
Grown up Ribena
Eric’s fabulous G&T’s
Falling asleep in the cottage
Eric ‘checking his levels’
Michelle taming the CD player
Harri playing the piano (it’ll wear off in less than a day I’m sure
Watching Alice at a riding lesson
Meeting Feral Beryl & Rust
Re-acquainting myself with all the other animals
Evenings on the deck
Gossiping with Michelle
Paige Gooch (this must be said very quickly)
Eric’s illicit steak, egg & chips when the growed-ups are away and we have to fend for ourselves
Tracey Chapman
The anticipation of seeing if the fantail has nested on the deck again
Chocolate arum lilies
The rampant, frothy pink climbing rose which adorns the trellis by the pool
Saturday nights for Michelle’s fabulous home-made pizza’s (she oils the tray, Eric doesn’t, neither of their pizzas stick but it’s a bone of contention
Home made lemon curd
Home made fresh bread, not as a treat, but as a daily staple
Magpie noises
Mal
Mike
Meeting Milky
Meeting Murray (CoffeeWaffle)
Re-meeting Murray (Trelawney Tractor God.
Green
Space
What am I not looking forward to ?
***************************************
Boston Beans (please don’t make me eat it ever again)
There, I said it. ?
Cx
Have tried 3 times to Blog recently with no success, there’s some kind of glitch with the dashboard publishing bit. It lets me type but that’s it. More frustratingly still, each time I have lacked the forethought to save my entry on Word a la ‘lovely Michelle’.
Speaking of which Michelle, in answer to your text, yes I did wish I was on the deck with you at 2030, drinking grown up Ribena on a warm evening after a day’s gardening.
More of that later.
So – what have I been up to lately ?
I have been (whisper this next bit) going to the gym. I have had a lifelong aversion to gyms, all those sweaty posers in lycra make me feel uncomfortable. I have always preferred to do any physical activity outdoors in non-cling clothing.
Recently, however, I was convinced of the benefits of Pilates so signed up to a 6 week course to teach me the basics, meaning I could be let loose in a class with growed-ups.
I have a feeling this may be a lengthy Blog so will restrict my comments about Pilates to this : it’s excellent. Difficult to explain & impossible to understand how such slow, controlled movements can make you feel so good, but it does.
A revelation.
I initially signed up to the Pilates to improve my riding but have slowly added bits and pieces to my gym visits. I now run every other day (and can step nonchalantly on & off a moving treadmill, without skinning my face). I then finish with a 40 length swim (20 crawl, 20 breaststroke), and then as a treat (note Alice, not ice-cream) a session in the steam room and the jacuzzi.
I am fully aware that nobody but me finds my achievements in the gym interesting and I know I run the risk of becoming a gym bore (or at least a published gym bore) and yet I will say that the satisfaction from running for 50 minutes is something I am really enjoying. I should elaborate there, I don’t in any way, shape or form, enjoy running, the enjoyment comes from forcing my body to do something my brain is telling it not to.
Never one of Nature’s runners, I picked Paul’s brains as to how I could most efficiently put my feet quickly one in front of the other. Paul is a PC I work with whose levels of fitness I can only aspire to. He is one of those deluded fools who finds enjoyment in fell-running. He seems quite normal otherwise.
He asked lots of informed questions about duration, heart-rate & recovery rate and decided I was killing myself. I was perversely pleased to note he said I was ‘running too hard’, not something I’ve ever been accused of before.
With his advice to decrease my speed and increase my distance by a 5% weekly increment, I should be polishing off marathons in no time.
During my last 2 visits, I have run for 50 minutes and 6 kays, not something I’ve ever managed before. Soon, I’ll be turning the treadmill on.
Confession – time.
*********************
My march towards middle-aged gathers momentum …
As a self-confessed fan of John Humphries, Alan Titchmarsh, Bill Oddie, good grammar, Gardener’s Question Time (particularly tragic as I don’t even have a garden), tweed skirts, hunting prints, well-polished brogues etc, I will also own-up to being fascinated by ‘Strictly Come Dancing’.
I’m not quite sure what it is. I don’t know whether it’s Brucie, who I have always thought a consumate entertainer (I used to love The Generation Game) or the lovely Natasha Kiplinsky (if only she’d keep quiet) or just the sequins and feathers (I have to be physically restrained in haberdashers)
but I am captivated.
Being one of the few people in the Western world sans tv, I had timed my visit to the treadmills to coincide with The X-Factor because I consider Sharon Osbourne to be the epitome of womanhood.
Oddly, although the screens were showing Sky News, MTV and BBC1, they were neglecting ITV.
Just at the point that Roger Black was about to dance, a young member of staff questioned all the victims nearest the screens on the treadmills as to whether they were watching ‘Strictly’ as it shall henceforth be known and if not, could he change the channel to ITV ?
Being a feeble person, too afraid to make a scene, I quickly averted my eyes from the screen, lied, and claimed to be watching MTV. Thankfully, 2 portly ladies to my right with more personal conviction than I, stood up to the youth and said yes, they were watching. Hurray for scary ladies !
Lots to look forward to in the next few weeks.
***************************************************
I will save Old Boys for another entry & stick with my impending holiday to NZ.
10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go etc etc.
I am driving my poor work colleagues to distraction.
Just writing about it reduces me to a frenzy of anticipation and this morning as I drifted off to sleep (I am night duty) I envisaged being in the plane & looking down on my would-be adopted homeland from the air. Arriving in NZ is going to be an awful lot easier than arriving at Heathrow was on April 22nd this year.
The things I am looking forward to most, in no particular order are …
The Tanners
Cedar Lodge
Grown up Ribena
Eric’s fabulous G&T’s
Falling asleep in the cottage
Eric ‘checking his levels’
Michelle taming the CD player
Harri playing the piano (it’ll wear off in less than a day I’m sure
Watching Alice at a riding lesson
Meeting Feral Beryl & Rust
Re-acquainting myself with all the other animals
Evenings on the deck
Gossiping with Michelle
Paige Gooch (this must be said very quickly)
Eric’s illicit steak, egg & chips when the growed-ups are away and we have to fend for ourselves
Tracey Chapman
The anticipation of seeing if the fantail has nested on the deck again
Chocolate arum lilies
The rampant, frothy pink climbing rose which adorns the trellis by the pool
Saturday nights for Michelle’s fabulous home-made pizza’s (she oils the tray, Eric doesn’t, neither of their pizzas stick but it’s a bone of contention
Home made lemon curd
Home made fresh bread, not as a treat, but as a daily staple
Magpie noises
Mal
Mike
Meeting Milky
Meeting Murray (CoffeeWaffle)
Re-meeting Murray (Trelawney Tractor God.
Green
Space
What am I not looking forward to ?
***************************************
Boston Beans (please don’t make me eat it ever again)
There, I said it. ?
Cx
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