All quiet on the northern front, but then bam it’s photos, photos, photos.
I have been quiet recently, and well not so recently. However I am still alive and just to prove it I have caught up on a lot of photo gallery action which I have been procrastinating.
For Mark Mugabe’s leaving do a group of us went on an all singing all drinking tour of Eastern Europe in one day: Budapest (2 nights), Slovakia (bus ride through), Krakow (2 nights because the flight got delayed due to a recurring theme in this post: snow). Much mayhem and stacking of things.
Marieke’s whirlwind visit of England wouldn’t have been complete without visiting the continent, first we were off to Paris, then to Prague, but we finally settled on Barcelona. Bolting on Emily and Karl made it a merry little band – a pity the pound decided to tank just that week to a 1:1 parity with the Euro. Damn you bankers and your elaborate financial mechanisms!
Well almost not back to New Zealand. England obviously didn’t want me to leave and proceeded to dump Russian snow all over the South of England the day before my flight. What made great snowballs and an atmospheric romantic leaving dinner above the Thames on a Sunday evening made for canceled trains, commuter mayhem, closed airports and Francis being the most stressed he has been in a very long time. Fortunately good ole faithful Royal Brunei Airlines pulled through or rather out of Heathrow Airport, and I was on my merry way to summery New Zealand. Damn you Europe and your proper winters!
Once safe and sound in Wellington I promptly submitted my migrant visa application for England and then climbed the tallest mountain in New Zealand outside of the Southern Alps – very big thanks family for organising that! I also proceeded to burn my pasty white English arse in the 35 degree heat that has been roasting Victoria. Fortunately the walk was along a river for two of the three days and much time was spent splashing about and cooling off.
Following that was a brief period of Yetibureau work, followed by much drinking in the sun at the Marlborough Wine Festival. I am on a mission to get match my skin to my hair colour -at least my shirt is a complementary contrast. Not only did the family get royally happy on wine, but Mieke and I managed to grace the front page of the Marlborough Express with our inebriated antics. Damn you Marlborough and your really really really good wine and parochial small town papers! But hooray for no snow!