New Zealand; Day 2

Today we put some more miles on the hire car and, unfortunately, a stone chip in the windscreen. Need to check the paperwork to see if that's going to incur an excess (probably yes, but our travel insurance should cover most of that. Yay for travel insurance!)

The day started with Eleanor waking up at about 9.20am and resuming the previous evening's persistent requests to watch In The Night Garden... Bevan told her that it's not on in New Zealand (which he genuinely meant because we hadn't found it in the TV guide the previous day), and of course as he uttered these words he turned on the telly, just in time for the closing credits. D'oh!

Requests from the back seat for a playground were eventually silenced when we snuck into one at a small rugby club just south of Christchurch. She got to have a good run around, and she and Daddy had races down the big slides. I'm not sure who enjoyed that more.

Our next stop was Salmon World, home of the big salmon (yes, we're terrible parents forcing her to visit "The Big..." attractions at such an impressionable age) and a rather nifty aquarium full of Atlantic salmon, eels and both brown and rainbow trout of various ages in different ponds. Eleanor got to feed the medium sized ones, which she loved.

Then it was on to Ashburton, home of Ashford spinning wheels and knitting yarns. I got a little bit excited, bought even more sock yarn for my stash and some merino possum yarn for a practise project at knitting on double pointed needles, which is going well so far.

After lunch we headed off to the Banks Peninsula, which is an extinct volcano with a beautiful harbour right up into the middle of the crater. French explorers bought it from the Maori, but by the time they got back from France with a boat full of settlers the Treaty with England had been signed for all of NZ and they were too late. Akaroa is a gorgeous little town with a very strong French flavour; so strong they don't have a police station but a Gendarmerie.

From there it was back towards Christchurch and a trip up the gondola to the peak of Mt Cavendish. Amazing views all around, but the wind was icy cold. Eleanor loved the trips up and back, and we saw lots of rabbits and one poor, lost sheep, but the history cave was a bit too much for her. It was like a cross between the Ghost Train and a really bad wax works, all hosted by a Nicky Webster wannabe who kept popping up on video screens. I'm sure they meant well.

P.S. As I am typing this the evacuation alert just went off in our room. Luckily it seems to have been a false alarm, and better still Eleanor slept through it.