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Pam writes:

The day before we fly to New Zealand, Jason finds us lodgings at The Lord Nelson brewery/pub in downtown Sydney, The Rocks.   We arrive in the early evening and get a cute little room in the top of the only old building I have seen in Sydney.  Sling our baggage in the room and repair to the bar.

Naturally, dinner is at the best local seafood restaurant, Doyles on Circular Quay where we are lucky to get a table (actually there was no problem getting a table, as with virtually every other 'booking essential' place we visited).

We get another bottle of that lovely Chardy, we are going for it tonight.  Back to the inn and we chat to various people in the bar and have a few more glasses of wine and local beer. We get off to bed sometime... The brewery is open to all hours for residents.  You have guessed it, it is hangover time in the morning. (Surely not, I hear you cry – fraid so, but it was the only time that holiday).

Can’t face breakfast but have to get ourselves together for the flight.  By the time we get our ‘lunch’ on the flight, we are absolutely ravenous and don’t care what we are given, which is just as well!  Feeling better by the time we land and although it is cooler and spitting rain it feels lovely and the plants are exotic.  Agapanthus and huge pineapple palms line the roadsides, growing like weeds.

Kia Ora the signs say - welcome to New Zealands North Island. More amusing however, are the numerous signs near cross roads which read 'Give Way to Peds'.

Post amble:

Went to Manly Beach via the Ferry, very pretty but it was now burning hot.  I really could not tolerate those temperatures for long.  Luckily the flat we stayed in was air-conditioned, it is quite common.  This is the flat in which Jason is currently staying.  High above the city, it commands good views.  Jason and I took his flat mate Paul, myself and Ali (clad in Armani) to yet another restaurant serving super seafood, this was reputed to be very expensive indeed but was an average West Country dinner bill for four. 

The flight home was awful.  I was so glad to get off that plane.  I don’t know how British Airways can –legally- cram so many people in.  I thought I was on the London tube or perhaps a refugee.  Words cannot describe its awfulness and for 22 hours.  Never again (unless its Business Class!!!).

 Darling Jason, I had a lovely time looking at new places and it was especially nice to be with you. 
 

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