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28/12/99 Moeraki Camp Site Played French cricket with an extended family of Kiwis. I was useless. Every time the ball came hurtling towards my legs, I lifted up my bat and the wicket fell. Or the ball went straight to a grateful hand. Charlotte expressed surprising agility. Slept fitfully to the sound of latrine doors slamming and an angrily nesting bird. For once, didn't dream of past friends. Instead, the couple of 'little blue penguins' we espied from our haunt oddly flitted in and out of my more lucid moments. |
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