Week 17: Anzac Parade

On the morning of Anzac Day we went for a walk along Seatoun Beach. The clouds were ominous, but they cleared to let the daylight through.

Returned servicemen marched behind a brass band; their medals and their remembrance poppies proudly pinned to their chest.

"But year after year, their numbers get fewer. Someday, no one will march there at all."

I hope we will always honour the memory of those who gave their lives so that we may live in freedom.

Week 16: Wairarapa coastal treasures

Over on the Wairarapa coast, the beaches seem endless and the sea is all you can see. During the day the weather altered dramatically and we walked for hours under changing skies. This is my tribute to Joe Cornish:

And this one is to Craig Potton, or maybe Andy Goldsworthy...

How appropriate is this for an Easter walk at Castlepoint?

And the way through the night is lit by a less than divine light, but no less valuable for all that.

Follow the orange triangles - these mark walkways here in New Zealand and there are times when you can be tremendously pleased to see them. This is on the Honeycomb Rock Track.

Some folorn tramper appears to given up the (one-legged) ghost.

And this is one of the Honeycomb Rocks - who'd have thought that a simple rock could be so colourful?

Close-up it looks like fine filigree lace or flying buttresses.

Here are some of the things we liked but resisted buying in Greytown - a bone-handled cutlery set from an antique shop...

Kittens from the pet shop...

And a line-up of rubber ducks all in a row!

Week 15: Visitors

I love it when visitors come to stay, especially when the weather is fabulous and you can take them on a scenic tour of the south coast of Wellington - stopping for a coffee en route.

However, we're not always blessed with great weather and the very next day, the ride up in the cable car was somewhat overcast, provoking pictures of the guests looking 'windswept and interesting.'

A stroll through the Botanic Gardens is always a must - the herb garden a favourite.

And then the Begonia House.

Close up and personal with one of those fly-trapper things.

And finally just being windswept and pissed off!

Week14: The Show Goes On

Being as I have spent the last week in the Gryphon Theatre performing in Necessary Targets it makes sense to show you the set and all its details. Here is our little slice of Bosnia - a refugee camp where we drank a lot of 'mad thick coffee.'

'Took me days to convince most of these women that beauty still matters. I think Azra's stopped bathing altogether.'

'I think it's insulting to pretend to be living in these conditions. You'll excuse me, but I need the little comforts. I welcome a bath, clean sheets, and a place to sit to... poop.'

'These women need those same comforts. They had them all before the war.'

'Have you ever noticed a sardine? It's not a fish, really. It's a thing that grows in a can. It no longer has any connection to being alive. It hardly remembers sun or sky or water. Covered in oil, in scum. It survives on the memory of all of these things. It survives on the closeness to the other sardines. Sardines/refugines. Or is it survivng? Are we surviving?'

'My name is Jelena. We are very honoured that you Americans came all the way here.' Each night we wore name tags which we removed as we came off stage and stuck on the nearest pillar. By the end of the season it was festooned with sticky buds.

Cast and crew supplied a never-ending bowl of sugar in the form of sweets. I didn't like the pineapple lumps, but I have to confess to being a big fan of the jet planes. They kept us going.