ch-ch-ch-changes

So we have a new government. Not exactly unexpected. Forgive me for saying so, but something tells me that, contrary to a lot of peoples' expectations (and the bulk of National's campaign rhetoric), not a great deal will change. What is assured is that the new lot will have a hard time ahead. Time will tell how well they deal with it. I just hope that social responsibility doesn't take too much of a back seat.

top 5 most beautiful cars

Whilst having a couple of beers at the Horse and Trap a while ago, someone asked me what would be on my list of the five most beautiful cars ever. I can’t remember exactly what I said at the time, but I think it went something like this:

5. Aston DB4GT Zagato
At once brutal, purposeful and beautiful.

4. Alfa Romeo Tipo 33 Stradale
Not every angle is great, just most of them

3. Ferrari 288 GTO
What the ultimate 308 GTB would look like - just a bit more muscular. The quintessential Ferrari

2. Aston DB9
The pinnacle of evolutionary design – took the essential beauty of the DB7 and refined it to near perfection

1. Ferrari 206GT/246GT
Just right – not a line out of place

Honourable mentions:

Maserati Merak
Mercedes 300SL Coupe
Jaguar XK140
Lamborghini Miura
Jaguar XJ220 – How they made an MG Metro engine, Ford Escort tail lights and no budget into one of the most compelling supercars ever is beautiful in itself.

energy, electric vehicles, hydrogen and carbon tax

The latest energy crisis has really made me think about my personal use of energy resources, especially when it comes to driving. The idea of an electric vehicle really appeals to me - it's such an efficient way of travelling. The electric drivetrain absolutely trounces an ICE for energy efficiency even if you factor in the generation efficiency and retain the transmission with all its losses. Performance-wise, all that torque from essentially a standstill would be amazing. The batteries are still the problem though - they are still either heavy with a low energy density, or incredibly expensive with a reasonable energy density. As my daily commute is about 56 km, I'd probably want a range of at least 100 km, which starts to get expensive (and heavy if using lead-acid batteries).

There are obviously plenty of other people who feel the same, judging by the size of the EV community on the web. A couple of people that are heavily into converting and doing it well are evdrive and metricmind, both in the USA and and New Zealander Gav (kiwiev) from New Plymouth. I'm very impressed with their commitment and results so far, especially Gav, who has been driving his home-converted Mitsubishi for months now.

I'm not convinced about the economics of it though - it will still cost a great deal (probably in the order of NZ$10,000) to convert a conventional car to electric power, and once you factor in replacing the batteries every so often, the payback period gets quite lengthy. There is only so much the feeling of smugness can offset the cost! It would be a great idea for the government to introduce a subsidy for converting your car to electric power, as I believe they do in some parts of the USA.

In my eyes, one of the main reasons to do the conversion is to reduce your impact on the environment, but there is currently no financial incentive to do that. This is primarily because environmental costs are only very indirectly applied to vehicles (or any industry, really). I support the theory of a carbon tax, but it only addresses a small part of the problem of producers transferring their environmental costs unchecked onto the present and future public. Someone along the line will have to pay in the end. It also seems that bureaucracy is making it an increasingly unwieldy tool. What is clear to me, global warming or not, is that to ensure we can keep living on this planet, we will need to change the way we produce things a great deal.

Getting back to the electric vehicle thread, one of my pet hates at the moment is all the press given to fuel cells. Leaving aside the manufacture of Hydrogen from hydrocarbons; What a ridiculous concept to take electrical energy, convert it into chemical energy (Hydrogen) through a loss-prone process, have trouble storing the unstable fuel, and then covert it back into electrical energy to power your car. How the hell is that better than plugging your car in at home at night? I suppose you could do that too. Sure, batteries aren't perfect (and still convert electrical energy to chemical energy) but they sure seem a better proposition than a hydrogen fuel cell. It's telling that you can't read an article on fuel cells without finding mention of setting up a network of hydrogen refuelling stations. It all smacks of the oil companies (et al) trying to establish a new oligopoly (oiligopoly?) on the supply of hydrogen fuel. That really bugs me.

brunchy

The past weekend was very brunchy. Victoria was keen to have a look at some galleries (particularly at Martin Horspool's fantastic and humourous retro robots) on Saturday, so we decided to have brunch while we were about it. Across the road from one of the galleries on Jervois Road was Dida's Foodstore, an upmarket deli with a few tables dotted about. The menu was enticing, so we thought we'd give it a go. I'm very glad we did; the coffee was exceptional, and both my Mediterranean eggs and Victoria's salmon hash were tasty, fresh, well proportioned and just a little bit different to the usual Ponsonby Road café food. It had a nicely unpretentious atmosphere with most seats being around a large central table. We'll definitely return. Unfortunately we didn't find any art that we could afford, so returned home with empty hands but pleasantly full stomachs.
We had made a date to meet Harry and Vicky for lunch on Sunday as well, and as we chose the venue last time, they chose this time. After parking at their place, we had a very agreeable stroll down the road to Café Massimo on Nuffield Street in Newmarket. Auckland had put on a blinder that day, the last day of Winter, being calm, warm and dry. Quite a welcome relief after the past couple of sodden months. The company was good, the weather behaved (thankfully, as we were sitting outside) and the food was pretty good although not quite up the standard of Dida's. My creamy field mushrooms were unexciting, but flavoursome and well seasoned, just creamy enough, and came with plenty of crisp, warm toast to mop up the sauce. The coffee was a let-down however: Vicky's long black became short before it arrived, and my flat white tasted a little stale and over-extracted. Ho-hum, pretty much what you'd expect from a chain I guess. That did little to dampen a really nice afternoon out.

sophie

Rest in peace, beautiful little girl.

london life, 2006 - part three - finding a job

I had forgotten just how difficult the UK job market could be, especially for an mechanical engineer in London. I was lucky last time to have a good contact provided by a friend. Not so this time. Victoria wasn’t having much of a better time as a project manager, but at least she got a couple of interviews. I had nothing. It seemed that every engineering job that was advertised was for building services or refrigeration or somesuch, and nothing in mechanical design, composites, testing, or anything I was experienced in. If there was a role going as a design engineer, it required x years of experience in CATIA, a package I have never come across before. It got to the point where I started looking for CATIA courses, but at around £2000+ I decided against it. I did try to look in other areas, but it was so hard to come up with any possibilities that fit my skills. In hindsight, I probably should have registered with more (ugh) agencies. If we do it again, I'll do my utmost to get a job before we get there.

Checking the free papers for jobs outside the flat in Pennard Road. Obviously not finding anything.

I did get a couple of interviews, though. The first a design and testing role with a company called Norma (!) that manufactured pipe connectors in a town just outside London, close to Reading I think. This didn’t get off to a good start when my train was delayed. Seems to be a theme for me. I managed to call the agent and get him to contact the interviewer, but knew I was going to be on shaky ground. The interview was OK, but I never really established a great rapport with the interviewer, and I knew it wasn’t going to happen as soon as I walked out. Still, it was a very pleasant journey home on the train watching the English countryside whiz by to the tune of ‘Black Holes and Revelations’.

Fast forward a month or two, and the second interview came through EPCJobs, the recruitment firm for Bechtel, and was for a project admin-type person working on the new station/interchange for the London Olympic village. It was pretty junior, and mainly involved checking compliance and chasing up contractors, but at least it was work. This time everything went very smoothly, I got to the venue on time, and the interview was excellent. The one kicker was that Vic had been for an interview the same day, and we had agreed that if she didn’t get that job, we’d head home. I was offered the job, she wasn’t and within the week we had booked our tickets home. Don’t think I’d been sitting on my hands otherwise, though – I’d been applying for dozens of jobs independently of the recruitment agents, most of which had met with resounding silence or rejection. The worst though, was the third interview I was offered, but never went to, with Jaguar, in Coventry. Dream job. Why, you ask? Because the invitation came after we had already been back in New Zealand for a week.

london life, 2006 - part two - finding a flat

After about three weeks of job and flat hunting we were starting to get a bit desperate. We had started out looking at the Chiswick and Stamford Brook areas for a flat but quickly found that they were outside our budget. We still really wanted to stay in the West, so we expanded our search to include surrounding areas as well, looking at Fulham, West Kensington and Shepherds Bush. In the end we found a place on www.gumtree.com in Pennard Road in Shepherd’s Bush. Pennard Road is one street back from the Shepherd’s Bush roundabout and runs behind the Shepherd’s Bush Empire and the Walkabout Pub. After looking at a few true hovels, this place was quite nice. It was a spacious two bedroom garden flat with a South African couple and dosser already installed. Everything looked in good order and we got on well with the others (in the brief time we met), so we snapped it up. One thing I clearly remember them saying when we were looking at the flat was that they kept the flat clean and took turns to do the cleaning.

This is one of the only shots of the flat I have! You can just see it in the background behind the hedge.

After a while we got the flat set up pretty well, and we were reasonably comfortable there. We had a phone line installed (the reasons behind there not being one already were never fully explained) and Homechoice broadband hooked up with a wireless router. Unfortunately there was always a bit of tension simmering between the two couples as although we are far from the neatest people, the other guys did not make good on their promise that they cleaned regularly. One episode that leaps to mind was when we spent some time cleaning the bathroom including scrubbing the mould off the ceiling over the bath. When they mentioned that they appreciated it, they also added that they had cleaned it some months ago, but the mould just came back, so they hadn’t bothered since! That theme continued throughout our time there, but we really tried not to let it affect our enjoyment of the place.

Despite the flat being sandwiched between the tube line and the biggest roundabout in London, it was never noisy, and being in the garden was very pleasant. We did spend quite a lot of time in the garden over summer, especially playing darts with our housemates. Man that was a hot summer! Darts is apparently quite an institution among South Africans, and we really got into it too, and I think we even got quite good at it in our time in Shepherd’s Bush. It became a bit of a routine that we’d pick up the darts and head outside with a few beers when the flatmates got home from work. Good fun; Good times, Good Darts. Despite any cleaning conflicts, we had a good time at Pennard Road, and got on especially well with Nick, the dosser. It was also quite central, and the transportation options were good. I couldn’t count how often we’d take the bus into town to wander Oxford Street aimlessly.

friends

I don’t know why I find it really difficult to keep up with friends. They tend to drift away, and I think that it’s probably largely my own fault. I really envy people that can keep a decent network of friends, especially when they all get on together. None of my individual friends really know each other, and it’s always been a bit uncomfortable when they meet each other.

I’ve never really been a very social person, and I’m inclined to avoid social situations if I can. Whenever I consider asking anyone to a social occasion (or get invited to one), be it dinner, a drink or even just lunch, I talk myself out of it. I immediately think of what might happen – the awkward pauses, running out of things to say, saying the wrong thing, getting invited to another social occasion. I just feel that it’s better not to try. It seems so much easier to just go home. Also, as much as anything, I think about Victoria, and how she would be affected – am I neglecting her if I go without her? If she does come with me, would she find it boring or awkward? I don’t know where all of these thoughts come from; could they be from past experience? In fact, I’ve found myself avoiding all social situations lately. It probably has something to do with a lack of confidence.

london life, 2006 - part one

We spent the next few days after Goodwood getting back into the London way of life, looking for jobs and a place to live, which is tricky when you don’t have a job. Mercifully someone in Cate’s block of flats had an unsecured wireless connection, so we could surf from the couch which was a bit of luxury. We had a great time with Cate for those few days, and we met her boyfriend Steve, an English sports journalist, when he came over for dinner. Steve turned out to be a really nice guy (wouldn’t expect anything else) and we all got on really well. We had a lovely dinner prepared by Cate, drank lots of red wine and talked well into the night until the insects forced us inside.

Once we had worn out our welcome at Cate’s flat we had an invitation to stay with Shaun, a friend who had moved to London just before I did in 2001, and whom we flatted with for about 8 months in Chiswick. He had a really nice one bedroom garden flat in Vauxhall with a futon we could crash on in the front room. Shaun is well settled in London, and had Homechoice broadband set up, which made it easier to search for work and accommodation. Again, Shaun was so good to us – he was such a kind and generous host, he even cleaned out his under-stairs area so we had somewhere to stash our bags. As it turned out, he was actually away on business for much of the time, so it was almost as though we had our own flat already. That was probably not such a good thing because it made it seem less urgent for us to get accommodation of our own. We really did enjoy our time in Vauxhall – it’s a nice suburb to live in, but strangely devoid of any real High Street, so it feels a bit like it has no focal point, perhaps no soul even. We did become very fond of walking up to the corner to the Brazilian deli to get a sandwich (the lamb and mint was particularly good) and an iced tea, and eating it in the adjacent Vauxhall Park. I wish I'd taken a photo of it now.

Shaun's living room. What can I say? It's the only photo I have.

Anywhere and any time in London, your experience can suddenly be infected by the crazies. In this case we were quietly eating unch in the park when a woman began hysterically screaming the name of someone we assumed was her child right across the (large) park. It turned out to be an adult, possibly a partner/husband who began shouting right back across the park at her. Loses something in the translation, but it really was a very odd episode. One occasion we managed to get out of the flat was for a bit of a wander. We were getting stir crazy, so decided to walk to South Bank. It was a really lovely walk through Kennington, past Waterloo Station and up to the Thames. We checked out the market stalls there and ate our Tesco sandwiches sitting on a bench, watching the interesting characters go by. We ambled back to Vauxhall along the riverside, passing the London aqaurium and making a mental note that we should visit it soon. That made for a decent 7.5 km round trip, and a really nice afternoon.

2006, london and goodwood - part two

Also close by was the supercar paddock where some of the latest and greatest supercars and even concept cars were being held. One that stood out was the Peugeot 907 – kudos to Peugeot for letting this amazing concept car go out on the track. Ditto to Saab with their Aero X concept. I spent quite a while here both pawing over the cars and trying to talk to Jock Freemantle of the Hulme F1 company. The MD at my previous workplace had suggested that I ask Jock if he had any contacts in the automotive engineering industry to whom he could introduce me. Of course he was more interested in trying to get investment in his car, so he asked me to send him an email. I did soon after, but never got a reply. When I left the enclosure (arena?) with my mind swimming with Zondas, Koenigseggs, Murcielagos etc, Victoria was waiting for me and we had a quick mosey around the rest of the show. We were pretty tired by this point, so we headed home for the evening before the bulk of the crowds left and thankfully found a parking spot not far from Cate’s flat.

Jock posing proudly with his progeny: the Hulme F1

On Saturday we woke to a particularly grey morning, and not soon after we left the house there were spots of rain on the windscreen. Even though we had left early, the roads were already bursting at the seams, and it seemed like everyone was headed to Goodwood. In comparison to Friday, it was a long and dreary drive. By the time we arrived in the carpark, the rain was pouring down, so we took the opportunity to catch up on some sleep. We woke an hour later to a clearing sky so we weaved our way through the parked cars to the circuit. It rained on and off for most of the day, which took a little of the lustre off the experience, not least because the cars were taking it easy on their way up the hill. That didn't stop the driver of the first Ferrari 599 in the UK from trying a bit too hard and snotting it into the haybales!

One thing that unexpectedly caught my eye at Goodwood was the Zonda, not the car as a whole, but in true engineering nerd fashion, the exposed carbon fibre on the cockpit and various bits of trim. It looks like a 3-harness satin, and was beautifully executed. I found myself wondering how many they had to throw away before they got one that looked just right. Of course, it's just a cosmetic layer, so I wonder what's beneath it, and whether they actually took it into account in the structural design.

Pagani Zonda roof rail and b-pillar in naked 3-harness satin-weave carbon fibre goodness

After a leisurely lunch of a delicious roast pork roll we returned to the car show part of the event. One stand-out here was the company offering to convert your type 964 Porsche 911 to look like a 1970’s model. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but the results were brilliant! The earlier 911s had a much cleaner look, and these cars captured that perfectly, just with a little more muscle I tried to have a chat with the chap from McRae motorsport about their new bespoke competition car, but he wasn’t interested either; possibly because my first words were “I work for a company that sells composite materials…” His face went blank as soon as I said the word “sell”. Not the best networking skills there. We felt we had seen enough at that point and left, deciding to spend a while exploring the surrounding region. We headed south to Southampton, which we found to be a pleasant place. Interesting medieval walls running through the centre of the town. We stopped at a mall to check out cellphones and did a bit of window shopping. Then back with all the traffic to London again to return the car.

The Civic had been a great little car to drive. The new R-series 1.8 was refined and spun cleanly to the redline, delivering plenty of power across the range. The 6-speed box was a joy to use, sharp and precise with well-matched ratios. The handling was hard to fault, but a little more communication from the front wheels would have been nice. The amount of space the Civic provided came as a surprise, and the ride was comfortable enough for me, even with the 17 inch wheels. On the down side, some parts did have the distinct aroma of accountant, like the very light and plastic-feeling door handles with their sharp edges.

It was a brilliant weekend all round, and I’d love to go back again one day.

nostalgia

Sometimes I am prone to bouts of nostalgia...
Nostalgia is interesting stuff. On the surface it seems like a nice, fuzzy, happy concept, but look deeper and you'll find that it has a darker underbelly. If you give in to it, it can consume you and block out much of what you are experiencing right now. Is it possible to live in a permanent state of nostalgia, only seeing the good in what has been? A thesaurus will tell you that the following are synonyms: homesickness, wistfulness, longing and melancholy which are right on the money. The really interesting thing is that while nostalgia can make you feel good, it is not a positive feeling in itself - it evokes a melancholic longing for perceived happiness from the past. Perhaps you could say that nostalgia is actually an inability to enjoy the moment, substituting a false sense of quasi-happiness from the past filtered through the distorting lens of memory.

Tellingly, the word nostalgia is derived from the greek nostos (homecoming) and algos (pain, grief or distress).

2006, london and goodwood - part one

2006 was a big year. Victoria and I got married in March, and by that time we had decided to give living in the UK another go. So in May we were off to try our luck living halfway around the world. On the way we spent a month driving around the west coast of the USA, but that’s another story. When we arrived in London, we were very graciously hosted by Cate, a friend of Victoria’s, in East Acton. We were dossing on the floor of her lounge which would have been fine but for the many Brazilians (people, that is) also inhabiting the flat. To their credit, they were very kind to us, and tried not to disturb us as they stepped over us on their way to the kitchen.

On Friday, after only a couple of days of adjustment, we were off to spend the weekend at the Goodwood Festival of Speed. As accommodation was scarce and expensive around Goodwood, we decided to drive there from Acton each day. We picked up the car (a brand new Civic) from Budget Rentals near Heathrow and headed South straight away. Once we had left the motorways, the drive to Goodwood was absolutely beautiful, and the perfect re-introduction to England. We made our way through several small villages, each more postcard-perfect than the last, filled with homes ranging from simply old to truly ancient. The placement of one house in the middle of what should have been the road, forcing us to cut a sharp dog-leg around it, seemed charmingly eccentric. Even the weather gods were particularly kind to us with bright and sunny conditions the whole journey, although once we got to the Festival, a light drizzle had descended. That did nothing to dampen our enthusiasm though, and we found a good spot next to the hill straight of the hillclimb course. We had arrived in time to see the modern Formula 1 cars make their way up the hill, their buzzsaw scream cutting through us , provoking instant goosebumps. But not as much as the thunderous baritone of the 1970’s Formula 5000 cars, all primary colours and improbable wings.

Aston DBR9 about to show off with a tire-smoky launch

After an hour or so of watching cars blat up the hillclimb course, we moved on to the rally stage in the wooded area at the top of the hill. We got there as the programme was close to ending for the day, but not late enough to miss Colin McRae go flying past in his Impreza. Once we’d had our fill of rally spectating, we headed to the main paddock outside Goodwood house itself where the Concours d’Elegance (Cartier Style et Luxe) was held. I was stunned by the quality of the machinery here – there were some incredibly rare, beautiful and just plain noteworthy cars such as the 1938 Phantom Corsair. I spent some time admiring the group of Lamborghini Miuras, especially the SVJ special.

life

What’s it all about? Is it family - creating one or maintaining what you have? Or is it about contact with others - enriching your own ideas or thoughts or opinions by sharing them with others? Or is it work - getting ahead and doing the best you can to provide for yourself and those who depend on you? Or is it experience - filling yourself and expanding your horizons with as many new experiences as you can? Is it about collecting material items - things that you perceive to be valuable or worthwhile or that will improve the quality of your life and those close to you? Is it making the world better piece by piece - using whatever skills you have to improve the quality of life of as many people as you can, be they known or unknown to you.
Why am I thinking about this? I obviously have too much free time.

travel

My feet are seriously itching. I'm surprised I've been able to sit still long enough to write this sentence. Victoria is happy in her job, but I feel stale and trapped at the moment. Owning a house is part of it - if that won't keep you grounded, what will? We were actually planning to take a trip to the east coast of the USA in their coming spring, but once we saw the prices of flights, that plan got rapidly canned. It would cost over $5000 for the flights alone, which is almost as much as the car we just bought (another story).


We're thinking of going to Australia, but it's not quite the same. I haven't been to Melbourne, so that’s a possibility. Thinking about travelling is so frustrating - when I'm travelling I long for the comfort of home, but when I'm home I desire the excitement and uncertainty of travel. And yet when I think about travel, I still want to go to places I've already been, which is perhaps the worst of both worlds! The pic is of Vic and I in a café in London. She's about to go to her first job interview there.

RIP Roost

I shed a quiet tear today when I discovered this: http://www.denverpost.com/search/ci_5728909
I lived at the Roost Lodge for an entire season when I was working in Vail in 2000/2001. It was a great place to stay, and the only really affordable accommodation in town. Once I got to know the people who worked there - Russ, Mitzi and Lauren and Rick, they turned out to be really nice, friendly folk. I still remember Rick and Russ feeding Chris and me shots of Jagermeister and Tequila at the local bar. It was a long time ago… Man I’d love to go back to Vail. It's hard to imagine a better lifestyle. Live to ski...

We had a few decent days skiing. Thanks to Chris for the photo.

goals for 2008

I'm in a rut. Get up, go to work, come home, make dinner, eat dinner, watch TV, get bored with TV, surf 'net, go to bed, lather, rinse, repeat. Time for a change.
I used to be good at setting goals for myself; I would make a short list, print it out, and stick it above my desk so I’d see it and read it every day. But I’ve been really bad recently, so with that in mind, here are my goals for this year:
• Write something original every day
• Get a more fulfilling job, possibly in Automotive Engineering, but I’m open to possibilities. What else can I do? I’ve never seriously considered anything other than engineering.
• Practice playing the piano every day
• Travel overseas at least once
• Take camera to as many places as possible and find interesting things to record
• Lose weight and improve my fitness
• See/experience as many things Auckland has to offer as possible
• Find somewhere to sing – maybe join band or a musical theatre group?

time, time, time...

... See what's become of me...

It's been a while, eh? Much has happened, some good, some bad. The earth still turns, I'm still relatively healthy, happy, a bit older, maybe a fraction wiser. Hopefully I'll soon be posting some of my experiences and thoughts here; not really for anyone other than myself, I think, so don't expect me to play to the crowd!

My thought is that I should do some original writing every day, and this is as good a way as any to get my ideas down.

USA Trip '05 - Part One

Then, less than three weeks later, I was boarding a plane bound for San Francisco, and ultimately London. You may recall that I had handed in my notice at work a few weeks prior, so the future was definitely still uncertain. However, I managed to gather the courage to go back to the boss, and grovel for my job back (actually, grovelling didn’t turn out to be necessary – he welcomed me back gladly, which was very reassuring).

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from the trip, and even less sure about what I was going to do once I came to the end of my time in North America. But I made it to San Fran alright, and met up with Chris at the Hotel. Not before spending a couple of hours wandering SF airport waiting for him to turn up, though! The BART deposited me Market Street station, which was just around the corner from the Mosser hotel I had booked. In my haste to get out of the station, dump my bag, have a rest and a loooong, hot shower, I didn’t check the map closely anough, and ended up walking in completely the wrong direction through a less desirable part of town. I made it to the Mosser a few minutes later, slightly wiser, and found Chris in the foyer. It was good to see a familiar face in such unfamiliar surroundings. That wasn’t the end of the challenges for the day though. We attempted top check in, only to find that the ‘twin’ room I had booked was actually a single room with a double bed. We had to upgrade (for an extra $30/day) to a ‘double’ room, which had two twin beds. Crazy! I tried to argue, but my heart wasn’t in it as I really just wanted to get to the room and relax. The room was, after all, quite pleasant and comfortable, if a little noisy. We went out a little later to explore and find some food – mercifully, the hotel was near Union Square, the major shopping area of San Francisco, so there was no shortage of choice.

We actually stumbled upon what I found out later to be one of the best and most popular pizza parlours in SF, Blondies. I’d been hanging out for a good American-style pizza since I got back from Vail, and it was just as good as I remembered. I don’t know how they manage to get so much flavour into a pizza with so few toppings. American food was going to feature prominently on this trip! I spent some time in the Virgin Store listening to music, and came away with three new CDs. Spent plenty of time in the Apple store as well, on this day buying a PowerPod and iTrip for the iPod. We were almost ready for the road trip!

how engaging!

OK, as promised, here’s the update:

Turbulent times, they were. Victoria went overseas on business for a couple of weeks, and I finally realised that I couldn’t stand to be apart from her. So when she arrived back in the country, I had organized a special weekend away to Waiheke Island.

We stayed at Villa Pacifica at the east end of the island. Although it was quite a long way from the main built up areas of Waiheke, the views and tranquility more thjan made up for the remoteness. Our room overlooked three small bays, with Auckland city as just a hazy shadow in the background. We were treated to the best of Auckland autumn weather all weekend – beautifully sunny, but crisp in the morning and not too hot during the day.

On Saturday (the 7^th of May), we had a lazy morning, but managed to make it to lunch at Te Whau vineyard, where we were treated to the most divine food I have ever tasted. The chef was on loan from O’Connell Street Brasserie for a couple of weekends, and I knew that Victoria had wanted to go there for years. We ordered Tempura Squid and a Wild Mushroom Risotto as an entrée; the squid was beautifully fragrant, and melted in your mouth, and the risotto (with which I have had bad experiences in the past) was perfectly cooked. We both chose Papardelle of Wild Hare as a main course, which tasted absolutely sensational. What could possibly be better than the spectacular views from Te Whau coupled with amazing food and superb wine!

After lunch we drove to Onetangi beach, and decided to take a walk along the beach to help digest the fabulous (and somewhat rich) food. As we walked, I realised that there would never be a better time than this, so I dropped to one knee, and as the waves lapped around us, I proposed. The rest of the weekend was a bit of a blur, but needless to say, I sit here writing this as a happily engaged man.

where to start?

Where to start indeed?

To cut a long story (very) short, I proposed to Victoria before I left NZ, she accepted, I went away to USA and Mexico, then came back to NZ rather than continue on to the UK.

So here I am, sitting back in the test lab at my old job, wondering how exactly I came to be here again.

So it's true that the more things change, the more they stay the same. I'm now engaged to be married in March 2006, I'm working at the same job, and I still feel the inescapable desire to travel.

Stay tuned, more will follow.