In Christchurch

Lovely sister-in-law picked us up from the airport and drove us around.  We met her partner and dog, and on the second day had a home-cooked meal for which the nephews turned up, the eldest with a girlfriend whom we dubbed Nice Holly to distinguish her from - well, you can guess.  Skyped Grandad in Australia, which was nice.

During the day, we went out shopping, where I succumbed to a pair of shoes but resisted the gorgeous mohair blanket (they were roughly the same price and I needed the shoes more!).  We wandered around the central city and found some Ben&Jerry's so the children were happy.  We did have to let the driver choose the music and I'm sorry to say her musical taste aligns more closely with the 17-year-old's than mine.  One particular song had the lyrics "I really really really really really really like you".  This drove Greg crackers, so we have been amusing ourselves ever since with such witty comments as "do you really really really really really really really really really want me to pass the salt?" 

Christchurch has a lot of road works going on  in suburbia, and they are closing off roads in the middle so you turn down a street and suddenly find you can't get any further.  Usually you have to detour round and look for another way, but on Weds, I just said I would walk down and knock on the door to pick up T.  Well, I walked down a bit and recognised the house so I went up and knocked on the door and then glanced into the garage and saw a white car.  T has a red car (which we were driving).  Her partner has a black car.  I suddenly realised I had just knocked on the door of a complete stranger, so I quickly ran away, meeting T on the footpath as I ran.  I expect to see myself on CCTV footage with the neighbour demanding to know what this suspicious person was doing.  Or, possibly, if my grey hair and elderly physique exempt me from immediate suspicion, whether any local nursing home has recently misplaced a confused resident.

Photo of us en famille: