Ocean Voyages await.

It was spring in New Zealand. The weather was turning warm and the fervour created by the Rugby World Cup is slowly dying down. The Black Caps Cricket team of New Zealand lost badly in the first Test against the old foe, Australia. It was another good leave riding my Harley out and about and getting on with my Cricket Umpiring exams. I passed level 2.

I have been stalking the brown and rainbow trout that inhabit the clear waters of the South Island with my flyfishing rod, enticing them with my own lures and flies tied at home and to a modicum of success.

My eldest son was 21 and was a cause for celebration.

We visited the city centre of Christchurch where a small shopping centre made from shipping containers has sprung out of the ruins to try and introduce a sense of normality. It has been very tastefully constructed. It is however so sad to see the city in such a ghastly state.

Finally, after many months on the market, we sold our house. It was a lovely house but was too big and with too much land for our needs now. It was time to down size. As I sit in Christchurch airport, my good lady is out looking for a rental property as a temporary home. She has the unenviable job of shifting our worldly possessions out of our house into the rental while I fly off to my ship.

So come now and join me as we set off once again on the Seabourn Odyssey and return her to my home Down Under where she will receive once again a warm welcome from the Kiwis.

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A voyage from Europe to the Americas to the South Pacific

Mount Cook or Aoraki in Maori seen from the canal bank where I was standing with flyfishing rod in one hand and camera in the other