Christchurch and Sumner Bay

Where we are staying is a quiet little place on the southern edge of Christchurch called Sumner Bay. It's quiet, sunny, there are a few restaurants, and a bar called "The Thirsty Mariner" of which I've already written. They bay is full of surfers and the water glistens in the sunlight silver and blue and green. The Surfers look like seals as they paddle out into the waves, sometimes lost completely from view in the dip between thew waves, then suddenly appearing from the waves as if they are sea nymphs. Very cool.

Yesterday we met someone I used to teech called Emily. She has moved out here, and coincidentally lives in Sumner Bay, we arranged to meet in town and sat on the street tables of a cafe. She is about to be 24, she tells us, and she describes how she's working with video and photography and doing a lot of surfing. I try to imagine what it would be like to be 24, taking pictures, surfing, living in a house overlooking the ocean. I can't do it. When I was 24 the world looked very different to me. Good for Emily!

This morning we walked along the Esplanade in Sumner, watching the surfers, and eating ice creams. Now I've come into town on my own to sort out a car rental, organise the weekend, and mooch about. Mum is back in Sumner Bay, making a parcel of bits and pieces to send back to UK to try and cut down on luggage. I think she's happy and OK, but today as I left for the bus I had sudden doubt that she might not be.

So I'm here in the Cathedral Square of Christchurch, it's busy in a gentle sunny way, people are puzzling over their next move in public chess games, there are people eating hot dogs and pastries, and drinking cappucinos. Seagulls and sparrows edge cautiously closer hoping for crumbs, a busker sings a range of well known songs ("Wish you were here", "Dirty Old Town" "Father and Son") as well as some of his own. There's a street entertainer (a Glaswegian) being tied up in a straight jacket and over head I hear the raw of a jet taking off; where in the world are they going in that thin cigar tube?

Soon we will be doing just that, and I realise that we are already nearing the end of the journey. It's in our minds - that's why Mum is making a parcel, and why I am aware of the jet.

The sun warms the slabs beneath my feet, and the world keeps turning.