The next few days were spent driving up the east coast towards Christchurch. On the way we passed through the banjo capital of the world, Dunedin. Now, I consider myself blessed in many ways, with a lovely wife, good mates, freedom to travel, etc, but Dunedin surpassed itself.
We arrived in town on the 1st day of Orientation Week for Dunedin University. Now Dunedin, like, say, Grahamstown in SA, is a university town, empty during holidays, ram packed with young students during term. So we were most fortunate to get there when the town was overflowing with toit young kiwi gals walking around town in the skimpiest little toga's you ever did see. It woulda been toga's like this that led to the decline of the Roman Empire for such immorality these ageing eyes has not seen in aeons. Absolutely splendid stuff, and I for one will be petitioning Yves St Laurent and co to inspire a revival of the toga for next season. It truly is a garment for all occasions. I was tempted to stay longer in the town, but, much like the nearby Albatross mating season, Orientation Week is a bit of a drawcard, so we had to move on to the next town. Which was a pity.
Christchurch is a lovely little town, smacking of the good old colonial days. We took a da to explore the town centre, saw a film, and just basically got ready to leave the English-speaking world for the unkowns of Spanish South America. Alas we missed both Aaron and Kylie, and Greg and Maria. Well, I say we missed them, although it is entirely possible that they left town to miss us. If that is the case, then revenge was sweet as, a few weeks later, the Sharkies came from 6 points down to score a converted try in the 82nd minute of play, to beat the local team, the Canterbury Crusaders.
Yup, blessed we surely are.
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