Almost blown away in Wellington

Spent the day in this compact city, buffered by the wind from west to east as I exercised up and down its wide streets. The quayside walk has reminders of the first people to land in this harbour and Queens Wharf must have been where we disembarked last time I was here (aged 9).

First job was to book my ferry ticket on Saturday and then it was uphill all the way to the house where Katherine Mansfield was born –now a museum honouring this famous Wellingtonian short story writer. The restoration is impressive given the changes succeeding owners made to the house –it shows how KM and her family would have lived and how much she used the family home in her short stories. It was great to rest my feet and watch a documentary on her life –knowing about her bisexuality and bohemian life as part of the Bloomsbury group gives a new context for a re-read of her stories  

On my way I passed Parliament whilst a demonstration against the war was in full swing –the only thing missing seemed to be any security.

My return journey was the opportunity to  visit the beautiful wooden church of Old St Paul’s with its lily and wood polish fragrance.

Then I needed somewhere to rest (again) and eat. Restaurants here serve dinner early so I headed for one recommended by my Lonely Planet guidebook in Cuba Street. Floriditis’s freshly prepared artichoke chips, pasta and pavlova gave me the energy to climb Majoribanks Street once again. I’m now enjoying the comfort of Jeff and Dean’s sitting room. They’re out to dinner and are leaving for a weekend away tomorrow afternoon so its like having my own apartment -wonderful.