New Zealand; Day 3

Yet another great day in gorgeous, sunny Christchurch, or CH.CH. as the locals refer to it. They have such difficulty with vowels here that I really don't blame them.

Up earlier than expected at 6:50am when the fire alarm went off for a second time (turns out it was another room burning toast, again!) but it gave Eleanor the chance to have a bath and wash two days worth of chuppa chups out of her hair and watch Night Garden before we headed off to the International Antarctic Centre.

We were in time for the penguin feeding before taking a ride on the Ninky Nonk. Well it's really called a Hagglund, and there's warnings everywhere that it's not suitable for people with heart conditions, bad backs, broken bones or pregnancy. Basically it's a cross between a car/caravan, a snow mobile and a tank with windows. They take you for a drive on an obstacle course to show what it's capable of, which is rather a lot of very steep hills at high speed with no suspension. Eleanor was borderline old enough for it, but the driver assured us that if she freaked out he'd stop so we could walk back. No need! We convinced her that it would be just like the Ninky Nonk on Night Garden, and it was and she loved it.

We also did the six minute storm room, where you rug up in coats and experience -18 degrees plus windchill. Eleanor lasted pretty much to the end of that in reasonable humour, before finding a room full of stuffed toy penguins and a babychino in the cafe, both of which were more her thing.

While Eleanor had her afternoon nap, I read our car rental contract from cover to cover and put in a call to a windscreen repair service for an estimate. It paid off, because eventually the hire company just took my word for it on the repair costs and abandoned their original idea of wanting to get a quote and then stuff around with how to settle the bill in the tiny window between right then and their closing time of 5.30 - during which I'd be out of contact anyway - with the added complication of us leaving on the 7am train tomorrow before they reopen.

In the end the bill was only NZ$134 and everyone was happy, except the manager who managed to get a splinter of the broken glass in his finger when he rubbed the damaged spot. During the slight negotiations on how best to resolve the insurance claim situation he commented that the repair cost would depend on how much glass was still there, and he shut up when I pointed at his finger and noted that it's a bit less now...

We spent the last part of the afternoon on various Edwardian forms of transport. There's a city circle tram using antique rolling stock, and our driver looked so much like Eleanor's grandfather that she promptly informed him, "Bo, I've got a poo!" She was right with only one part of that statement.

We also went punting on the Avon river in gorgeous style. Our punter was named Godot and he was great. He stopped so we could watch two little ducklings that were diving under the water and popping back up again right near us, which delighted Eleanor almost as much as trailing her hands in the water over the side and catching floating leaves.

Dinner was some of the best Mexican we've ever had, at The Flying Burrito Brothers. I had a half litre apple and mango margarita, which counts as my two serves of fruit for the day. Eleanor ate her own body weight in corn chips and cheese, plus half my churros for dessert. As tired as she definitely was by the time we put her to bed, Daddy still fell asleep first.