The land at the end of the earth

10th February - Christchurch, South Island


We've reached the end of our 2000 mile race around the two islands and are currenly residing in jail in Christchurch. Quite cosy really, though I can't help thinking that you must get ex-cons coming to have a look at their former residence.

This morning was spent in a strange little farm in the hills outside Christchurch. The guide described it as quirky and mentioned its uplifting quotations chalked all over the walls. This all sounded a bit weak to me, but I have long since learnt not to pay too much attention to my preconceptions.

And rightly so. It was the cool, countryside retreat that everyone wants, with a massive shaded verrander, long comfy seats covered in animal skins and a host of books to read. These were accompanied by fine lattes and fresh blackcurrents the size of baby fists. The gardens surrounding it were plentiful and full of cats. I did the only thing I thought appropriate and spent the following couple of hours reading a book of uplifting quotations for, as our fat friend once said, 'It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read a book of quotations'.

But I don't think he meant this one.

Unfortunately we could not stay for ever and so prepared to leave. At this point, I found a book on contemporary tree houses, some of which were clearly the way forward. I shall endeavour to own a tree at some point and then get to work.