A Fantastic Day!

I've always resented having to work on my birthday. I did, for a while at least, try and avoid working at all by taking the day off (hey! I heard that!) but after a while I came to realise that taking a day off in October was not great timing, weather wise at least, and I was better off saving it for more favourable conditions.

That changed when we moved to New Zealand - my Autumnal birthday magically swapping for a Springtime celebration. In some ways, that made it worse. This year it looked like the sun shining bit was going to be a stretch - we've had a really wet start to Spring this year - but there's not a cloud in the sky.

So far, by luck of the calendar, my birthdays have fallen on a weekend but that was only going to last short while.  My first birthday in NZ was a Saturday, and we spent the day on Waiheke Island sampling the local wines from several vineyards whilst soaking up the early sunshine. Last year it was a Sunday and we spent the day sipping a beer or two on the quayside whilst trying to avoid getting too sunburnt. A trend was definitely emerging.

But now I am faced with the prospect of working on my birthday AND the sun is shining......

....well maybe working is a bit misleading. Yes, I am getting paid and technically I am in work, but I am about to jump on my bike and cycle around some of Auckland's newly built cycle paths. I suppose getting paid to cycle in the sunshine not only makes me very fortunate but it's also the closest I will come to being a professional cyclist. But without the hassle of having to shave my legs.

When it was suggested to me, without solicitation I must add, I was initially apprehensive. Could I really afford the time when I knew I had numerous reports to complete? Wouldn't it be better is a more junior team member went in my place? And then there was the problem of which bike to take. The client team would be on their e-bikes. Should I take my slow but sturdy mountain bike or my quick but less robust road bike? And then there was the issue of what to wear. A dress shirt and trousers would be appropriate for a client meeting but not great for spending a morning in the saddle. Problems, problems. It would better if I just politely declined. What on earth was I thinking?

It does give me a bit of a dilemma though. How on earth can I top this? Hhmmm, next year my birthday will be on a Wednesday.... Maybe I can convince my employer that what he really needs is for someone to check out the running routes through the city? Maybe a good beach inspection is needed? Or perhaps we really need someone to make an assessment of the transport links to the local bars? Actually, don't they have a lot of cycle paths in Belgium? I hear Bruges is lovely at this time of year.....




Sitting Ducks

A colleague of mine once compared living in Auckland to being on an air craft carrier. Not, I hasten to add, because we are all armed and ready to kick-off at anyone who looks at us sideways, but because we are in the middle of the ocean and surrounded by nothing much but water.

And not just any water either. The South Pacific is a steaming, fizzing cauldron of currents which give rise to torrential rain, wind and occasionally very impressive, but equally frightening, tropical cyclones. 

And all New Zealand, can do is sit and watch and wonder if the swirling mass of low pressure is coming our way. I'd imagine that it's a bit like witnessing Godzilla arrive at the city boundary and watch, helplessly, as it begins its slow but certain stomp towards you. Not that I have ever witnessed a Godzilla of course. 

On the plus side, it makes weather forecasting, in the short to medium term at least, a breeze. Pardon the pun. Want to know what the weather will be doing today? No problem, just look at the rainfall radar and see what's coming. Pretty much whatever is predicted to come this way will inevitably turn up. A bit like a drunk mate who turns up at every party - no one invited him but everyone knew he was coming. Sooner or later. Auckland does have the Waitakere Ranges to shield it from the worst of the rain, but when it comes in such volume it makes little difference. They are hardly the Pennines. 

The flip side of this, of course, is that once settled weather turns up there is very little to disrupt that pattern. The result is, thankfully, long periods of unbroken sunshine and warm weather. But at the moment....well the South Pacific is very angry. Mostly at Australia which is having a torrid time, but it has been continuously damp here in Auckland for some time. How damp? Well last night Auckland had 85mm of rainfall. Pretty soggy I can tell you.

At least it's warm. With temperatures hanging around 15 degrees it makes walking in the rain almost a pleasure. Yes, you will still get wet but not cold, and it saves on having to get a shower in the morning. It's exactly this sort of weather that has resulted in us having to have our house washed. Yup, you read that correctly. The warm and humid weather is great for moss and over the past two years our white house has slowly turned green. It didn't look great but it did add an extra layer of insulation. Not quite the green Eco house that we had in mind though.

There is never a dull moment when you are afloat in the southern seas. And it looks like the superstorm that has been ravaging Australia is going to pay us a visit. Great. With another wet week forecast I'm seriously considering swapping my shirt and trousers for a wet suit, flippers and snorkelling mask for my walk to work.

With all this water around, it would be quite easy to start to feel a little vulnerable - if I stopped to think about it that is. But at the end of the day, well, it's only weather isn't it and it will pass. No, it's the tsunamis that you should worry about......

Election Fever

Forget the trivialities of the US election, it's election time here in Auckland and election Fever is gripping this one-time capital of New Zealand. And being keen on the democratic process we can't wait to get involved.....

Or at least we would if we were allowed to vote. You see the powers-that-be exclude us immigrants from the democratic process. And who can blame them? Who would want dirty and ill-informed outsiders from voting in a New Zealand election? Especially when they don't, after all, contribute anything to the economy. What do they know about life in New Zealand. No, it's much better to leave important decisions to those that know best. Yes, I may have an opinion and the outcome of the election may effect me but I can just keep it to myself thank you very much. It's probably as well - the last thing this government needs is any help from a lefty-outsider. And they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.

Anyway, with no means to influence the outcome it is quite fascinating to see how another city manages the democratic process.

I must say that it's a little confusing. Firstly, there is the sheer number of different parties. National, First, Labour, Upside Down Party. Actually I made that last one up, but with so many parties, all with different values, aims and aspirations it is hard to know who I would pick, if I could vote that is. At the last count there were a total of 19 candidates. Yes, 19! You should see the ballot paper.

When travelling around the city, it doesn't take long to bump into the election posters. They're everywhere. Every spare bit of land is filled with huge wooden structures with posters of beaming individuals promising the earth. Why have just one election poster when you can have nineteen? If one party has a poster then the rest will soon follow. Maybe it's an election rule. I could look it up I suppose but as I'm not allowed to vote, what's the point.

If it is a rule then it is actually quite a good idea - seeing them all together, in a political line-up, saves me the bother of having to read any of their election pamphlets and I can make a snap judgement based upon whether they look like sane individuals or someone you wouldn't trust to look after themselves, let alone the budget of an metropolitan city.

"A vote for me is a vote for common sense," screams one election poster. And what a tempting prospect that would be. I'm all for a bit of common sense as long as it is used in sensible situations. It wouldn't do to waste a good dollop of common sense in an impractical situation.

"Vote for me and I'll build a train line to the airport," boasts another. Well I must say that he doesn't look like he has it in him. Quite a claim for a man in his fifties. Mind you, he doesn't say how long it is going to take him and whether he'll have any mates to help him. I can just imagine the conversation, post election win, in the pub when he breaks the news...

"Well done Bob on that election win"

"Thanks Terry, it was a close call but that promise to build the rail line to the airport swung it"

"I know, I can't believe that people fell for that," Terry added.

"Err, what are you doing on Saturday?"

"Not much, why?"

"Well I'm going to borrow a couple of shovels so I thought we'd make a start"

"Start what Bob?"

"Errr....can I get you a pint...."

The run-in to this election has been quite entertaining. One of the candidates is rumoured to win by a significant majority and this has upset one of the rank outsiders. Well I say rank outsider but what I should say is deluded outsider. This particular individual has been consistently polling at a predicted 4% of the vote share. It's good to see that it has not dampened his spirits - he simply refuses to believe they are accurate, just as much as he refuses to believe that not having any actual policies is a contributing factor. Actually he does have one election strategy, and that is to accuse the favourite of being rubbish.

Take this transcript for his latest interview when asked about his poor poll ratings;

"The reason people have approached me is because they, like me, share the idea that Tom* hasn't got the answers to fix Auckland's problems, so I think the most responsible thing for me to do is rather than pull out is frankly to double my efforts to make people aware that a Tom* mayoralty seems inevitable and that's not going to fix the problem."

Genius.

And so it goes on. With so many candidates, there are hundreds of permutations. Vote for change, strong leadership, fresh ideas, real results, more of this, less of that, more of the same, more spending, less spending, faster, slower. It's enough to make your head spin. It seems to me is that the candidates should just make their minds up - have a meeting, and agree what they stand for and then come and tell the electorate what they are going to do if given the keys to the big office. If that doesn't work then maybe we should set them a written test. Something relevant like how much is a pint of milk, what is the capital of Peru and what's the most cost effective way to increase the volume of traffic that can travel through the city whilst having enough budget to solve the housing crisis.

It certainly beats dragging everyone to the polling station to put a cross on large sheet of paper. Sounds like common sense to me!

"Rapid Rent-a-fence" seem to have the clearest policies

* Names changed to protect the guilty

On the UP

For those who have missed the headlines of the world's newspapers, and shame on you if you did, Auckland now has a plan. I know, good isn't it. And it's not just any ordinary plan. No, this one is a Unitary Plan. No longer will we have a Proposed Auckland Unitary Plan, or PAUP for short.

So what is it? Well from now on, Auckland has a plan that will guide the growth of the city. It will dictate where tall buildings go, like in the city centre, and help planners decide where larger homes - those with gardens and the like - are best placed. Like on the outskirts for example. Obvious really. What is surprising is that it has taken over two years to decide this. Two years? Really? Have these planners never played Sim City? It has certainly kept Auckland's planners and lawyers busy for two years, and far be it for me to suggest that this was the reason it has taken so long......

When I arrived into Auckland, those short two years ago, the office was awash with talks of the PAUP. Being new to both the office and the country I didn't want to show my ignorance by asking what, or who, it was. For a short while I thought the head of the Catholic Church had recently become interested in planning matters in New Zealand's largest city. 

"Oh, the Pope will help clear that up," said one planner colleague to another at the coffee machine

"I wish they would hurry up and release the Pope," said another.

"Where's Sandra?', asked another

"Oh, she's working in town in the Pope"

Eventually I had to ask and the whole matter was cleared up - and I'm glad that I did because I was very close to making an absolute pratt of myself. And in danger of offending a religious order.

Matters of religion aside, Auckland really does need a better plan then the one it had. Which was nothing. So on that basis the PAUP, or I suppose the AUP as it should now be called, it's a vast improvement. It does seem to be the very epitome of lack of foresight to build the country's most populous city on the narrowest neck of land. And it really is quite narrow. At its narrowest point Auckland, and by extension New Zealand, is little more than 2km wide, which not only presents a transportation nightmare but also makes a mockery of the country's coast-to-coast walking challenge as most people would complete the trip on the way to the shops. 

Against that backdrop, it's crazy that Aucklanders still yearn for the Kiwi ideal. Ask the average Kiwi what is their dream home and they will tell you that they want their own place, surrounded by greenery with perhaps a few chooks and sheep to complete the rural idyll. To you and I this is actually called a farm, but to a Kiwi it's a 'lifestyle block'. Presumably they would complete the picture by getting up at the crack of dawn, working until it's time to get up again and complaining about how nobody understands how hard their life is. Tscchhh, these city folk!

So the very idea of wanting a lifestyle block in the middle of the urban metropolis should seem a little....well ridiculous. Well no. And whilst there are no farms in the centre of Auckland, there are plenty of properties with significant land within shouting distance of the CBD. That's not to say that there aren't any office blocks and tall buildings in the CBD, of course there are. But I do wonder how they got there. Maybe an avaricious neighbour decided to sub-divide their property and sell some of it off to a developer? I can imagine the conversations they would have with the adjoining property as the tower cranes moved in;

"Wow, that's a big crane. You having some work done?"

"Err, yes. We're building a granny flat for mother-in-law"

"And you need a crane that tall? How big is the flat going to be?"

"Errr, no. It's going to be a bungalow....."

"So what's with the crane...Hey, you've not sold your land to one of those city developer types have you?"

"......err, no. Of course not."

"So what about that crane?"

".......errrr.....well......its......errrr......oh, it's for the shopping innit! She's going to need some help getting the shopping out of her car"

"Of course! What a great idea..... Can we borrow it?"

Property size is one thing. And that is contentious enough. You would think that, having announced the plan, that everyone would be relieved that the city would have some direction. But no. There are those that are concerned that their property will be caught up in the wave of urbanisation. And in some cases they will, but that unfortunately is the price of progress. And there are others that think they are going to be evicted whilst a multi-level dwelling is built on their land. It would take a particularly nasty planner to forcibly evict a family from their home whilst a larger capacity dwelling is constructed. Quite easy in Sim City but no so much in the real world.

And then there are the transport issues. This is where the plan has been quite clever, ground breaking even. The larger areas of population growth have been identified as those nearest transport corridors; motorways, rail lines and the like. This has mostly been greeted with appreciation of the city planners' foresight buy some didn't like the idea. Why? Well they complained that their motorway connection into the city would get even busier because of the extra people using it. When it was suggested that they could get the train they responded with a look that suggested they'd been spat at.

And there, in that vignette of interaction, is the problem. You see, Aucklanders are hooked on their cars. I know of plenty of work colleagues who would jump in their car to drive less than 1km to the shop, those who would park up 100m from the office to grab a coffee before continuing their journey, and those who shiver at the very idea of travelling with other people. You think I'm making this up? Our main client's office is in the CBD which is a short train journey away, fifteen minutes at the most door-to-door. It's not unusual for people to drive to these meetings, spend half an hour trying to find a parking spot and then complain on their return about being late and how there is never enough parking in town. Do they modify their behaviour? Of course not.

Removing parking to ease congestion and improve public transport is a contentious issue. Transport planners know that it makes sense but equally they want to see some improvments, rather that see their project get bogged down in months and months of debate, after which the removal of parking will be quashed and they and the city will be no further forward.

Auckland is trying. New train links, improved bus services and simpler fares are on their way. Ferries help shuttle people into the city from neighbouring suburbs and cycle lanes are popping up everywhere. Some of this might rub off. It's going to take a huge shift in travel behaviours and a realisation that not everyone who chooses to travel on public transport is unwashed and down on their luck. Well, there was that one time when I got a bus back from a half marathon where I was, ahem, less than clean. And a little fragrant. But otherwise public transport is quick, cheap and environmentally advantageous. Letting the train take the strain.

I'm sure Auckland will get there. It has to. Either the temptation of quick and cheap travel will pull Aucklanders out of their cars, or being stuck in traffic from hours on end, day-in day-out, will eventually push them onto public transport. And once they do, just think what can be achieved with the spare time they suddenly have! Well for a start, those chooks won't feed themselves.......

Two Years.... is a Long Time in Politics

Two years. Two. Years. It's hard to believe but we have been living and working in New Zealand for two years. It seems like only yesterday that we were stood in the supermarket wondering if $5.60 was good value for two pints of milk and if Tasty Cheese really was tasty......

It can't be two years. Can it? Well they say a week is a long time in politics so let's see how two in NZ  stacks up against the same time in politics.

Well it all kicked off with the Scottish Referendum. Whilst the campaigning was well underway before we left, the vote took place just a few short months after we arrived. Some work colleagues were astounded that we weren't able to vote on the future of our country. That's was, at least, until I explained that I wasn't actually from Scotland but England. "But you do sound Scottish," was the reply I often heard. Well I suppose I used to think that Aussies and Kiwis sounded the same so fair dinkum. Anyway, the Scottish voted to stay in the UK and a mightily relieved Prime Minister showed his appreciation by asserting his Englishness, trumpeting "English votes for English people!" or something like that. During all this, the Labour Party in Scotland was fatally wounded, partly because it had sided with a Tory government over the referendum and partly because it was a little bit rubbish. Let that be a lesson. Then again.....

Next came the General Election, the outcome of which appeared to hinge on whether the leader of the opposition could eat a bacon sandwich properly. He couldn't. But then again no one can. In fact I challenge anyone to eat any fried food filled sandwich, knowing that cameras are recording every bite, without getting at least one colour sauce down your shirt. But the die was cast and a Tory government returned to Parliament, helped in no part by the aforementioned Labour collapse in Scotland, the rise of the buoyant SNP, and the purple peril of UKIP enticing would-be Labour and Conservative voters to their cause. Which is to have the UK removed from the EU. But no one is buying that are they?.......

In the aftermath of the General Election, the leader of the Labour Party resigned and the search began for his replacement. There were many candidates in line for the role and, except for gender, all pretty much alike. Except one. Jeremy Corbyn, in a last minute rush, managed to secure enough nominations to get his name on the ballot paper. JC was a bit of an anachronism, a socialist MP in the Labour Party so presumably those who'd given him their nominations did so as a bit of a joke and to get rid of the loony left once and for all? Typically of the left wing, JC spoilt the mood at the party by gathering hundreds of thousands at rallies accross the UK and going on to win the leadership election by a huge margin. The biggest since the war. Although exactly which war was never really defined - it's so hard to tell these days since we go to war an awful lot. Maybe it's to get away from the British weather?

Take Syria for example. Syria was tearing itself apart, the causes of which are far too involved to go into in this simple blog, but something needed to be done. Or needed to be seen to be some perhaps? And what better way is there to bring about stability in a country than to drop bombs on its people. Yes, that'll do the trick. And so, after a televised debate in Parliament, the country voted once again to go to war, Hilary Benn was applauded for making a stirring speech (the main purpose of which appears to have been to remind us that he's nothing like his father and cement his reputation as the next leader in waiting) and everyone patted themselves on the back for a job well done and then sloped off to the subsidised bar for a drink. Allegedly.

Meanwhile, in New Zealand, the Prime Minister John Key decided what everyone wanted was a vote on a new flag. They didn't. But when in politics does what people want actually stop a politician from doing what they wanted to do anyway? And so, at the cost of millions, new designs were drawn up and the electorate were asked to pick one which they did.....they chose the existing one. Hurrah for democracy. Meanwhile families were sleeping in cars because of the lack of affordable housing..... Who  in their right mind would hold a referendum that no one was asking for and then be shocked when the vote doesn't go the way they were expecting......

Back in the UK the Tory right were taking note of the threat of UKIP, and longed for the days when England were good at cricket, when you could speak your mind without fear of being challenged for your dated views and for a time when the sun never set on the British Empire. To put this prehistoric rabble to bed, and to help ensure a General Election win, a referendum on the UK and the EU was offered by the prospective Prime Minister. What could possibly go wrong?

After a very bitter campaign, where each side accused the other of lying and questioning their parental heritage, the day came when the UK voted on its future. After months of incrimination and accusation, it boiled down to "should the UK remain as part of the EU or leave?". The result is now well known. But I can't help but wonder if the question should've been "Should the UK wreck its economy, devalue the pound, promote racism, remove health and safety protection from its citizens, threaten peace in Europe, enter a deep recession.... or not?" Maybe the outcome would've been totally different?

Apart from signalling to the rest of the world that the UK was a bunch of racist bigots, the referendum resulted in the resignation of the Prime Minister who, quite sensibly, wanted nothing to do with clearing up the mess he'd created. With the PM gone, the spotlight turned on those who led the campaign to leave, looking for guidance in our hour of need. Embarrassed, they looked at their shoes, fidgeted with their shirt cuffs, mumbled something about it not being their idea, made their excuses and left. With stunning efficiency, a new PM was chosen - a Margaret Thatcher MKII - along with a new right wing cabinet and the country was teleported back to the heady days of 1979. 

To reinforce the feeling that we've all been having a bad dream, and the Labour Party never really was in power for over fourteen years under Tony Blair, the Parliamentary Labour Party rejected their leader in a mass resignation. Citing he fact that he unelectable and, perhaps ironically, unable to control his party they demanded he resign. A coup was initiated by Angela Eagle, who was soon joined by a born again socialist Owen 'Who' Smith and the second campaign in twelve months for a Labour Party leader began. The choice, or so we are told, is simple; either keep the current leader, who has the overwhelming support of party members, but will never be elected as PM; or chose another leader who will never be elected a leader but someone who meets the Identikit New Labour Leader specification. To prove his critics right, thousands queued to attend Corbyn's rallies. It would take a huge mis-step on his part to damage the support he has; shouting at a baby on live TV or trying to eat a cooked sandwhich might do it. 

Meanwhile, across the pond, things were going swimmingly. Okay, I lied but I was just trying to make you feel better. After months of shouting, telling huge porkies and threatening to build walls, America took another huge step towards giving the keys to the Whitehouse to an megalomaniac with a IQ less then his shoe size. Not to mention the keys to a huge nuclear arsenal. Should people's worse fears come true, at least the last few moments of the earth as we know it will be entertaining.

Speaking of nuclear arsenals, one of the first acts of the new PM was to hold a debate on the future of Trident. It was a bit off holding the debate so soon, especially as the opposition were busy pointing fingers and blaming each other for the dire situation and letting the Tories run amok. Meanwhile the Tories did exactly that; announcing the return of Grammar Schools and trying to start a new Cold War by pissing off the Chinese and halting the construction of a nuclear bomb, sorry reactor, somewhere in Somerset. Then, just as the Chinese officials started to become indignant at the very suggestion that there was anything untoward or shady with the whole deal, a Chinese company who formed one third of the consortium was accused of espionage. I'm not making this up.

And this is all playing out against a backdrop of Europe being torn apart by random, casual terrorism. Except it's not but that's what certain sections of the media would have you believe. 

Still at least all was calm in the world of sport. I that was until Leicester City were crowned champions  of the Premier League, and as cheers from every neutral football supporter rang out, Manchester United demanded that the season be started arson because they weren't ready and didn't notice it had started.

With all this madness going on, it's no surprise that David Bowie and Prince decide to call it a day.

When we arrived back here after our trip to Europe it was with a certain sigh of relief. Yes, we missed home but being so far from anywhere does has its advantages. Yes, the broadband may be slow, there's little football coverage and you can't get a decent pork pie, but at least we're not worried about a bad tempered idiot having access to nuclear weapons, wondering what public service will get cut next or eyeing up our neighbours with suspicion. And they're Australian!

Yes it's safe to say, a lot has happened whilst we've been down here, and whilst it's not healthy to cut yourself off from the northern hemisphere for too long, sometimes, just sometimes, New Zealand does feel like the safest and most reassuring boring place to be. 

 

Secret Service

I'm not sure this blog will ever see the light of day. You see, it may have to remain secret for a long time. Hushed up if you will, on the QT and definitely, definitely off the record.

3 March 2016

Why? Well we have decided to make a surprise trip back home to attend a family celebration and catch up with people we haven't seen for a few years. Not a problem, you might think, but in the digital age where everything is shared, liked and commented upon its not that easy. It only takes the slip of a button and, hey presto, it's out there. Horse bolted. Gate unlocked. Even writing these words is a huge risk. What happens if I forget to save it as a draft and accidentally publish it? Blast, I've jinxed myself just by admitting there is a possibility I could get it wrong. What happens if something gets arsed-up, as they say in tech savvy circles, and all my drafts are published without me knowing? 

That's just the half of it. My parents are keeping an eye on our UK bank statements. It would only take the use of the wrong credit card when booking something innocent like hotels or flights for awkward questions to be asked. 

"There's an odd charge on your credit card"

"Really?"

"Yes it's for a hotel in London?"

"Oh!"

"Your card must've been cloned"

"I guess so......"

Then I would have to go through the charade of cancelling my credit card, and rebooking everything. You see it's a huge gamble, and a reminder why I would make a rubbish spy. I'm sure James Bond or Borne would take it all in their stride but I'm a nervous wreck.....

4 June 2016

We're now five weeks out and so far, so good. All booked and so far the cover is not blown. I nearly slipped up a few days ago. Our YHA membership cards had arrived in the post to my parents' house, courtesy of the Royal Mail redirect service, and my Dad offered to send them to us. "No, it's ok we'll pick them up when.....errr yes please that'd be great". Disaster averted. I think. To blow it now would be a real shame.....

24 June 2016

What the hell is going on in the UK? Shit, I hope the borders don't close before we get there.....

2 July 2016

We've just uncovered a problem. Plug adapters. Which ones do we need? We have a mixture of UK and NZ plugs and will be calling at, as well as the UK, France and the US. The idea was to travel light to leave enough room for new clothes. At this rate we'll have a bag full of plugs.....

7 July 2016

I had a bit of a wobble tonight. Surely lying to your parents is a bad thing? Technically I haven't lied, I've just not told the whole truth. But it amounts to the same thing doesn't it? And then there is the fact that by not telling them in advance I'm denying them the opportunity to get excited by our visit, however brief it is going to be. And what if they are not at home when we pop by? 12,000 miles is a long way to go to turn around. Hhhmmm.

8 July 2016

Last day in work for nearly three weeks and it's the usual hectic finish - trying to get enough done so the wheels don't come off whilst we're away. And a lovely surprise from admin - a going away cake! How thoughtful and a lovely gesture. If we were in the UK I would be concerned that it was to celebrate three weeks without us....but Kiwis are so lovely that I know that won't be the reason.....

9 July 2016

I'm definitely going to hell. As we're going to be 'offline' for a week I thought I'd ring. 

"Are you up to much this weekend?" my Mam asked

"No, not really - quiet week at home"

Surely lying to your mother is one of those 'straight to hell' moments. Little did she know - because I had deliberately not told her - was that within 12 hours we'd be travelling 12,000 miles, towards the northern hemisphere.

10 July 2016

Well, we've finally arrived back in Europe. Which is more than can be said for our bags - they went missing in San Fransisco during the transit. "Oh, this happens a lot" said the woman from Air France and with a typically Gaelic shrug, filled in a claim form,  "You should get them back....maybe 48 hours?". I don't know much about air travel logistics, but if bags go missing a lot then perhaps the system is not working properly? Anyway, we were far too tired and smelly to put up much of a fight, and it wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. 

Begrudgingly, we got into a taxi and headed into the city. "No bags?", the taxi driver asked......and immediately wished he hadn't!

Jesus, I'd forgotten how mad driving is in Paris. There are cars everywhere and seem to arrive from every angle and at high speed. If they drive like this in New Zealand there would be carnage. Well more carnage than there already is! The taxi driver was certainly taking no prisoners - taking the Luc Besson movie far too much to heart - we were just happy to get to the hotel in one piece.....

11 July 2016 3am

Jet lag is a bitch. Wide awake but still no bags.

11 July 2016 5am

Still wide awake but good news! That missing bags have arrived in Charles De Gaulle so presumably we'll get them this afternoon. Hurrah for French efficiency!

11 July 2016 5pm

We've had a great day, wandering the streets of Paris, sipping coffee in quiet back streets, oh and shopping. The need for clean undies far outweighing the need to see the Eiffel Tour. But no bags! Surely it can't take 12 hours to deliver two bags from an airport that is less than 20km away? Time to ring the helpline....

11 July 2016 7pm

Helpline? I think the first thing a helpline should do is actually be helpful! Air France don't have a clue when our bags will be delivered, probably before we leave for London in three days time but they can't guarantee it? And no, we can't go and collect them in person. Sarah has just accused Air France of robbing our bags - not far from the truth. I think it's because we're not French, although I've been told that's slightly racist. Racist or not, two days in Paris and I'm beginning to understand why Brexit might not be a bad idea!

12 July 2016

Took a train to Versailles and joined the rest of the tourist population. It was awful, mostly anyway, as we shuffled around a stately home in searing heat. Luckily we're not claustrophobic. It was a relief to get out into the gardens and enjoy the space....helped by quaffing a bottle of Bordeaux over lunch! Hopefully our bags will arrive tonight.

UPDATE: OUR BAGS HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED!! They were delivered by courier at 10:30pm. Stop the clock...... It has only taken Air France 41 hours to deliver our bags the 20km from the airport. Absolute shower.

13 July 2016 11:30pm

It wouldn't be correct to say it was the only reason we made the trip, but it certainly helped justify the expense..... just back from the Bruce Springsteen concert! I don't know how he does it - three and a half hours without a break! It was fantastic and great to see him in a (relatively) small venue. Now I have to try and get to sleep and be fresh enough to tomorrow to catch an early train to London and our first of two surprise visits.........

14 July 2016

Back on English soil for the first time in nearly two years and what a strange feeling it is. Sights that look familiar, but seem out of place at the same time, speed past the train carriage window. How can I be feeling apprehensive, nervous and exhausted at the same time?

After checking into our accommodation, we had a quick shopping trip in Basingstoke town centre - desperately scanning the crowds to make sure we didn't accidentally bump into anyone we know. Then, at 6pm, we decided to casually walk to visit our relations.......

They were chatting to a neighbour in the street as we approached. "Hi Cathy!"......

What a great reaction! Sarah's sister was speechless, her husband aghast and we got huge bear hugs from our nephew. 

Mission accomplished.

17 July 2016

Decided it was time to speak to my parents so called early this morning. "Hi, have you got any plans this week?" I asked.

"No, nothing much" came the response

"Good, can we pop by for a visit then?" I asked.

Laughter was not quite the response I was expecting then I realised that they thought I was joking. 

"No, seriously, we're in the UK so can we come up?"

Confusion soon gave way to smiles and travel plans were agreed. We'd arrive back in Northumberland at 11:10

"We'll explain everything tomorrow. Promise!"

Fifteen Minutes

Was it Andy Warhol or Kirsty MacColl who said something poignant about fame? No, I can't remember either. It's surprising how easy it is to get those two mixed up.

Anyway, whatever it was, I rather suspect that my fifteen minutes has been and gone. Did I enjoy it? Well it was a nice surprise - a bit like putting on a coat you haven't worn for a while and finding a lolly in the pocket. Unsucked obviously.

What am I talking about? Well, unbeknownst to me, the Rotorua Half Marathon organisers had chosen to use a photograph of me from last year's race as the promotional picture for the 2016 event. I know - mad.

I first became aware when Sarah showed me her Facebook feed and there I was, beaming from ear to ear in my bright orange Stirling Sport Half Marathon vest (it's really comfortable - honest!) . I first assumed that there was some clever algorithm at play - one that chooses the promotional picture of a Facebook friend to encourage other to enter. Pondering on this theory on the way to work, I'd decided that it would be far too difficult to achieve. How did they link the participants race number to a Facebook account? There are some clever programmers out there, and social media is creeping into every facet of life, but surely this would be too large a step?

The answer came within a few minutes of arriving at my desk when a colleague piped up "How are you on my Facebook feed?," before adding, "It is you isn't it?". And with a quick flick of his wrist, I was face-to-face with my image once again. So it was true then, I was an internet sensation. Who'd have thought it. At my age!

Comments generally fell into one of four categories;

1/. Did you do this yourself? 

2/. Did you enter a competition?

3/. How much did you pay?

4/. Oh, I didn't know you'd won the race!

I don't know whether I should be offended that people thought I'd take the time to mock up a fake advert, or that I'd be so vain to enter a competition to have my image used for advertising material. And the fact that I'd pay for it was quite frankly ludicrous - obviously they don't know that I have Yorkshire heritage. I do, however, quite like the thought that they thought I would be good enough to win the race. Maybe one day?

As far as the photograph goes, I remember it well. I had recently reached the highest point on the course and was running back through the Redwoods - a stunning spot and definitely worth a visit - and although there was still nearly 10k to go, it was pretty much all downhill from here. I was riding a wave of euphoria, or maybe exhaustion, when I saw the photographer and out went the arms. 

It's a great shot, if I do say so myself, especially when most of the other pictures taken of me whilst running make me look as if I've lost control of my limbs, whilst simultaneously taking part in a gurning competition.

My only regret with this brush with fame is that, had I known, I might have made a bit more of an effort. Chosen smarter running gear, had a quick refresh around the corner or done something with my hair?  Okay, maybe not the last one, but certainly a less orangey top wouldn't have gone amiss!