Richard and Miriam were newlyweds living in Eastbourne when we met. It’s a pleasant seaside village but a long drive around the Harbour from the city. The road, just beside the water, could be awash during winter storms. All in all, not a journey to be undertaken after a late night of Kiwi-class drinking. I did it many times.
But not this time. We cruised for thirty minutes on flat seas and arrived at Days Bay just as the Sunday afternoon swimmers were getting started.
The short walk to Eastbourne gave us a chance to see the variety of beach house styles.
Eastbourne has attractive mosaics of native birds along the footpath.
An elaboration: My old friend and colleague John wrote, “Can you remind me (or all of us) what took you to Wellington in 1975?”
The primary reason was a desire to be in NZ. Not that I knew much about it. It just seemed interesting. Secondarily, it was because I had a job at a software company awaiting. One of the requirements for permanent residency was employment.
I quickly learned, and this is a lesson for all of the “I’m leaving because of Trump” folks, saying you’re moving abroad and doing it are very different things.
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