The meal was going to be Lamb which we purchased from the local Butcher. The new season NZ spring Lamb had not yet arrived in the shops but the Kiwi butcher assured us that the cut he had prepared for a Delia Smith "Butterfly Lamb" dish would be perfect. Whilst in the Butchers, and it being obvious we were in NZ for the rugby, one of the guys asked if we had been to the "Welsh Consul" around the corner. No we explained and were then told to be sure to make a visit. Gerald Harbison, a Taff through and through had established his Estate Agency Office as a Welsh Embassy for the duration of the RWC. We had a fun chat with him and he introduced us to hisife who was from Essex. Gavin and Stacy immediately sprung to mind. But get this, not only was she from Essex but her name was Sharon!!!!! A nice little touch occurred when Graham Henry, who lives in the Glendowie area, popped his head in the door of the Welsh Embassy/local Estate Agent and asked if Gerald had tickets for the Wales matches. Nice one. The butterfly Lamb was going to be accompanied with roasted root getable to make the dish for 7 as easy as possible. We noticed whilst in the Butchers he was selling a knife sharpening gadget, which he then demonstrated. It was so simple, and more importantly very effective. The knives in the Waters household were, how should I say it, not sharp, blunt, ineffective, anyway in need of a sharpening so we bought one of the gadgets and returned to 292 with the
> shopping and knife sharpener. We practised on the kitchen knives and what a difference!! Continuing my instruction, under his new title and self promotion to "Head Chef" Trumps, tasked me with poking loads of garlic into the meat, whilst he prepared the veg. It was another fantastic Delia Smith meal, shared by all 7 of us. If my memory serves me correctly, the meal was washed down with quite a few bottles of wine despite John being on a strict diet.
>
> Around this time of our stay with the Waters, Larraine complained about Whoppa using her kitchen as another tool store. He already had little piles of tools all around the house and garden buildings but seemed to favour the kitchen for some unknown reason. She also wanted to have a clear out of her
> kitchen cupboards. Trumps immediately put his hand up with the offer of help and within a day or two large bags of unwanted (and unused for umpteen years) items were ready for throwing away. What had not been taken into consideration was that Whoppa finds it virtually impossible to throw
> anything away. He was caught going through the waste bags trying to reclaim anything he thought was not waste. Some of his excuses were amazing. For example, there was a coffee machine that had been taken out of the larder for throwing out. The next time we looked it was back in the larder. "When was the last time you used this coffee machine" was the question. The reply! We have never used it and we have lived here for 33 years. Can you imagine how many times it had been moved? Whoppa's idea of disposing of anything is very much at odds with almost anybody else. After a few days of Trumps help, Larraine was very happy with her new less cluttered kitchen cupboards and larder. Whopps of course complained he could not find anything and therefore it must have been thrown out.

Trumps decided he needed some exercise, so Whopps asked his neighbour Peter if he could borrow one of his bicycles. Peter brought the bike around and we learnt that it had not been used for a long time. Trumps tried to go for a cycle ride around Glendowie but the journey lasted only a few minutes
> because he could not change into a lower gear for the tiny hillocks he encountered. What a wimp! Later that day we met Peter and Trumps was able to thank him for the effort he had gone to for his exercise regime. Whilst chatting we heard that Peter calls Whoppa "Mr Grumpy" and recounted just one of a number of events that take place in the Waters household which keeps him amused. Peter noticed one day that there was an Ambulance and a Fire Engine parked outside the Waters house. It transpired that Whoppa had a serious back condition (Spasm) and was unable to get out of bed. So the Ambulance was called and an injection administered. It is understood that the injection had very little effect so the Ambulance team decided he would have to go to Hospital. The problem was that they could not get him down the stairs to the Ambulance. So the Fire Brigade was mustered in order to convey him from the bedroom to the Ambulance. Could this ever happen anywhere else than NZ?
>
> The days seemed to speed by, what with doing a bit of cooking, a bit of drinking, a lot of bus trips, a few Ferry Boat trips, a bit of shopping and of course interspersed with the Rugby. The weather was very pleasant, not too hot, and sunny most of the time. Enough to necessitate Trumps wearing his very expensive sun glasses continually. Were the Kiwi's impressed? Questionable, but when he lost them, their importance seemed to take on a much greater element. Anyway they were lost and we now had another job to do, which was to find a Police Station to see if they had been handed in! Yea!!!! Or record and file a lost report, in order to claim on his Insurance, thus obtaining a Police reference number became important. More non Rugby, time I thought. They were fabulous times
> overall though, especially because of the Waters family generosity of hospitality. Before we left the UK we were warned that obtaining tickets for most of the Rugby matches would be difficult. Having checked what they were charging for the tickets Trumps and I decided to watch the matches in the various bars, pubs, clubs, specially constructed tents etc; that would undoubtedly be showcasing the biggest social event to have hit NZ for a number of years. Once there, I learnt that tickets were still freely available. Trying to buy them in AKL was however an uphill struggle and challenge. Would you not think the NZ RFU would have made it easy to find sources of tickets to purchase? After lots of phone calls, Internet searches and asking of locals we understood that tickets could be purchased
> at the "Skydome" which is central AKL. So, along we went by our now tried and trusted bus, found and entered this enormous building. Incredibly there was not the slightest hint of a sign telling us where we should go to buy this illusive source of tickets for the biggest event in AKL for years. It could only happen in NZ. With perseverance we found the desk selling tickets and not surprisingly there was not a queue, so took out a Mortgage and bought a couple for an England match. They were very good seats though.

> On one of our many trips to AKL centre, we decided to have lunch in an Italian restaurant. The restaurant we chose was chock a block with Argy Bargy's. They were lovely people and unlucky for three of them we were given a table next to them. Conversation obviously followed and by the end
> we were given two tickets to a match at Eden Park and an invitation to visit one of them when we were in Buenos Aires. Trumps took advantage of the ticket, I stayed and watched the particular match downtown. Trumps left the match just before the end, took a train prior to the queues forming and was
> back downtown in next to no time trying to find where the temporary bus stop had been hidden. Wankers. We met two of the Argentinians again during our trip to Waihiki and learnt they were from Uruguay, mistakenly by me not Argentina, and to my dismay were in the Paper Industry, which of course Trumps could talk about for ever and a day. Gobshite reigned.
>
Not dissimilar to Sydney 2003, we were drawn to the water front and the many choices of Ferry Boat rides and destinations. There were some great trips available on the many Ferry Boats out of AKL Harbour. One day we decided to visit Waihiki Island, a trip of about an hour. The plan was to have lunch there. As we arrived at the Ferry Terminal with time to spare, a cup of coffee seemed to suit. We bought two cups from the recommended stall on the Ferry Pier and sat on a bench to enjoy them. Unfortunately, I had released the lid a little to check on the coffee and not replaced it properly. As I took my next sip, quite a bit, more like half, of the coffee ran dowthe front of me, staining my shirt and trousers. A quick visit to the lads loo on the Pier and a rinse down made me look as though I had dribbled all down my front and piddled myself in the trouser department. Silly arse.
Undeterred and on the basis that it would dry out eventually we boarded our ferry boat for Waihiki Island. Waihiki Island has a reputation for being a bit of a hippy place, so we were keen to experience it and take in a spot of lunch. Ignoring the taxis and bikes for rent we chose to walk into the most inhabited part of the Island, which was only about 1km away. About half way to the first place of any inhabitation we passed a Police Station. On this tiny Island it did occur to me that crime would be minimal. Perhaps litter dropping, nose picking, not wearing a hat in the sun, dog fouling, parking with your car pointing in the wrong direction etc; but we learnt when we entered the Station, listening to the radio would seem the most demanding task of Police Officers on Waihiki. Thinking out loud, I said "why do you not report your lost sun glasses to this Police Station, if there is anybody around". Like a rat up a drainpipe Trumps was over there, pouring out the details of his great loss, so that he could obtain a police Report for his Insurance claim! Whilst speaking to the Duty Officer, Trumps asked her for a lunch place suggestion. She replied Vino Vino, which as it turned out, was great. Lunch was taken on a raised deck at the back of the Restaurant overlooking the bay. An extremely good menu existed and some local, albeit unusually flavoured wine, accompanied. Not that Trumps ever drinks alcohol at lunchtime! Two other tables were occupied, one English speaking and one Frog speaking. Surprisingly one of the Frog people we met there we saw again in Hanmer Springs on the south Island, much later on our trip.
>
> We needed a plan to get to Eden Park for the match. This was England v France, so my St George Jacket had to be worn and it turned out to be a great hit. The number of French and English supporters that asked to have a photograph taken with me was amazing. When I had asked Trumps if I should order one of these St George Jackets for him, he declined. He is so shy, so you can understand his decision!! After the interest in my Jacket he reckons I should not have taken any notice of his shyness and ordered one for him. By this stage of the tournament all the matches were in the evening to accommodate European interest. We always had our Breakfast, courtesy of Mr and Mrs Waters but ate out much of the remainder of the time. On the day of the match we had tickets for, we decided on a light lunch, with just a few beers and 1 bottle of wine, before having a siesta at
> 292. The plan was to get downtown AKL early evening, have a few jars, and take the "Fantrail" from central AKL to Eden Park, some 3 kms walk. Everything went swimmingly. We walked about 1 and 1/2 kms before we were unable to fend off our thirst again. A pub, with a big screen was showing the match taking place just prior to the one we were going to see at the Stadium. There were seats at a table and some real ale. Fantastic. By half time we had been joined by a group of Kiwis who werelso going to the match we had tickets for. Because they had completed this exercise a few times in the past they knew exactly what to do. They swigged down a few beers and ate a hearty meal, with chips of course! Time was now getting on and we did not want to be late for Eden Park, so we began our good byes with this great bunch of farming out of town Kiwis we had met. "Oh, no need to go yet", they told us, "there are buses just outside this pub that take you to the ground free of charge, so come along with us". Brilliant. Not only were they generous with their advice but insisted on buying us large, nay, huge glasses of Whisky. They also partook of these vats of Whisky and they similarly downed them all with enthusiasm and speed as we needed to get a bus to the ground. It worked perfectly. Weren't we lucky?
>
> The match was great, except the result of Eng v Fra, the seats superb, but now it was a case of how do we get back to downtown because we had parted company with our extremely knowledgeable Kiwi advisers. Our instinct to follow the crowds was a good one, followed by a choice of either buses or trains queues existed. We chose the bus and were soon back in downtown. Trumps then decided we should eat. Judging by the number of people in the area it looked a bit of a challenge to me. Unconvinced by Trumps we hit upon a restaurant called Cin Cin. It is right on the harbour front and commands the area. In we went and were shown to a table immediately, seated and given Menu's. Because one of the starter's was £16, Trumps decided it was not the place to stay and eat. My concern was that by now, nearly everybody from Eden Park had transferred to the waterfront and finding anywhere to eat would not be simple. We left Cin Cin and headed off for somewhere more reasonable. Unable to find any restaurant without a queue of at least an hour, and bearing in mind it was now midnight, we decided a bus back to 292 was the most sensible option and a raid the Waters fridge was imminent, which we achieved. Not before however trying to find where the AKL Bus Company had hidden the bus stop we needed for our return trip. Wankers. But now back at 292 with a couple more beers and a ham sarnie we had our appetite sated.
>
> Because of the massive hospitality afforded us by Whoppa and Larraine we decided to invite them for an evening meal in AKL. The table was booked but it seemed Whopps was getting a bit unnecessarily uncomfortable about our gratitude towards them. We had decided to buy some more tickets for a match at Eden Park and obtained a third for Whopps to join us. He was already railing at the cost of the tickets, but considering his and Laraine's generosity it was more than justified. We had bought Laraine some "speed walking sticks" to add to her walking routine. Anyway, Trumps and I were perfectly prepared to pick up the tab for the 4 of us, and did so. Afterwards, Whopps told us that he had paid for the wine. But the silly old bugger had not told us, so we had paid for the wine twice! Luckily, because he was a Banker he knew how to obtain the refund.
>
> By the way. When the decision was taken to buy three more tickets (one for Whoppa) for the next match (Wales v France as we had by now changed our allegiance) Trumps decided that we should go there on Sunday morning to obtain them. "Hang on" I said, "this is New Zealand, and it is unlikely they would have the ticket desk open on a Sunday". Bullshit, said Trumps, this is the biggest event in AKL for such a long time, they will definitely be open. He obviously had not registered we were in NZ yet, so off we went. We repeated the same journey on Monday, when the ticket desk was open!! You are a Bollocks sometimes Trumps.
>
> During our time at 292, we learnt that Whoppa was an incredible DIY enthusiast. So much so, that he has many jobs on the go at any time. For example, upstairs in their lovely house he has three rooms all under refurbishment at the same time. Not only that but he has a sufficient stock of similar tools to have them lying around in every work place, together with some in the shed, some in the tree house and some in the garage. And he still has a selection in the kitchen for the ever present emergency. When we first arrived, it was difficult if not impossible to close our bedroom doors because the handles had not been secured. When Dennis, John and Dawn were due to arrive for dinner, Laraine was standing around in the Hall. I asked her why she was not joining us on the Patio, she told me that the carpet man had cut the wire from the door bell, and unless she waited in the hall, she would not know if anybody had arrived at the front door and rung the bell. The following morning, with over an inch of electrical tape, Hard Hat and his Health and Safety at Work Certificate, Trumps fixed the door bell, beating Whoppa to the job!
>
> Trumps, as I mentioned earlier, went on his own to the match we had been gifted tickets for by the Argy Bargy's but our next visit to Eden Park, complete with Mr Grumpy, we intended to repeat the first trip we made when we encountered the out of town Kiwi's in the Pub. Plan #1, take the Fantrail until we found the Pub, have a few jars, watch the earlier match, catch the free bus from outside the Pub. Well it did not quite work out> that well. Firstly and probably most importantly we could not find the Pub we had been in previously. So said Trumps, we'll take a bus to the ground, there'll be loads of places to have a pre match drink around the ground. Yes I said, but all will be chock a block I'd have thought. Obviously Trumps is deaf, so we took a bus to the ground. Queues outside every place at the ground abounded. Fortunately I spied one that seemed to have a corner unoccupied, so in we went. Getting a drink was the next hurdle, but Whopps used all his height to get served within 20 minutes. In the meantime I had found a place tucked around the back that actually had some breathing space and a chair. A girl was occupying half of a sofa as well. We learnt she and her new husband were on a belated Honeymoon to NZ from Lancashire and were at the end of a 3 week trip. He was a smoker, so was outside, which meant we could nick his seat. Whoppa, Mr Grumpy or Graham Waters adopted a single low over sized chair and could not have looked more like
> Ronnie Corbett if he tried. In the bar were some fantastic Welsh supporters for whom we were now backing following England's exit from the competition. Again we had super seats and enjoyed the match (not the result though,because it was Wales losing to France) and the atmosphere of Eden Park immensely. We left our seats at the final whistle and walked very quickly to the train station, boarded and were back in AKL central in next to no time. A super evening, other than the result.
>
> We took the bus back to 292 and as usual paid the driver NZ$9.00 for the pair of us. Really good value for money. Whoppa produced an Oyster type card and travelled without paying. Previously he had told us that he never uses the buses, so how come he had a card permitting non payment of the fare? We asked to see it but he refused to show us. We think it was Larraine's, the sneaky, overpaid, poxy, cheapskate Banker!
>
> The days before the Semi finals were taken up with various trips including one to Devenport, a 45 minute trip by boat. A very nice quaint place but boring. On the way back we met 2 of the 3 Argy Bargy's (Uruguayans actually) on the top deck of the boat. What a coincidence! Soon after landing back in AKL, I had a text from our very good mate Jimbo Benson from Hong Kong who was in AKL with his wife Ritzana and son Josh. Jimbo is a Kiwi by birth and was therefore in AKL to see the Trophy lifted. We met them at a restaurant called Euro, which is very popular and was the meeting place for us later in the day to meet some of Trumps mates from England. It was great to meet up with Jimbo, Ritzana and Josh again, although Josh is going to need some controlling at some stage I think.
>
> We watched the Semi's in a bar downtown AKL, completely outnumbered by Kiwi's. So intense was their support of the AB's it felt surreal. The atmosphere in the bar was great though and when the AB's did the Haka, most of the NZ supporters accompanied them. The relationship between the Nation's population and the AB's was beginning to hit home to us and how overbearing it was. "One eyed" was our initial interpretation. It eventually made us think it was an unhealthy level of support.
South Island.
>
> After the semi's we flew down to Christchurch on the South Island. When our trip was being planned and as I mentioned earlier, we were warned that accommodation would be scarce throughout NZ. Having the hospitality of Mr and Mrs Waters at 292, meant we did not have to worry about accommodation all the time we were on the North Island. In order to be on the safe side for our journeying around the South Island we had paid a deposit for a camper van. According to Trumps it had to be a big one, because he was not going to share a toilet with me! So a big one was booked, but that was long before the dreadful Earthquake hit Christchurch and altered the match arrangements for a number of teams that were going to occupy the South Island. As a result and sadly for the South Island, accommodation was no longer an issue because the expected numbers of supporters had made other arrangements in keeping with the changed match schedule, so we converted the Camper van mode of transport to a car.
>
> We arrived in Christchurch in wonderful sunny weather conditions. Armed with the email confirmation of our Camper van we strode off to find the rental company Britz. After a walk of about 20 mins hauling our luggage along, we found the place, only to discover they had a courtesy pick up and drop off arrangement for their customers. No obvious signage at the Airport though. Sounds familiar? Britz were very accommodating and exchanged our Camper van for a largish car, nothing like I was familiar with and called a Holden. Needless to say Trumps handled the paperwork procedures and took ownership of the car keys. The question was, what route should our circumvention of the South Island take? With Trumps satnav thingy assembled, we headed off in a westerly direction to Greymouth via Arthur's Pass which was supposed to be a must see place. Within an hour of driving it became cloudy and after 2 hours it was pissing with rain. The chances of seeing much in the prevailing conditions were remote. There are strict speed limits on the roads in NZ and I noticed Trumps had not exceeded them by more than 20%. After a stop in some out of the way place where obtaining any sort of attention seemed inconvenient, and bearing in mind we were the only customers, we had a coffee and a change of driver. I took the wheel and within a few moments sounds like, ooh, aaah, cripes were being expressed by Trumps. Then his feet started to work as though he was still driving. Then comments like, "I would not have overtaken that slow lorry where you did, can you leave more distance between us and the car in front if you are not going to overtake, you are going over the speed limit" Nag, nag, nag, nag. Trumps then spent much time telling me what a fantastic driver he was and had always been. It was becoming very boring. From what he said,
> Jeremy Clarkson, Michael Schumaker and Lewis Hamilton were not in his league when it came to driving!!! Then of course the rambling continued with his excellent Motor Bike skills and accomplishments. Barry Sheen would not have stood a chance if Trumps had been around!! Not that you would have thought it, we arrived safely in Greymouth, despite all my driving faults and I parked up for the night. Greymouth is a very dull place, much as the name suggests, so we decided to just stay overnight and then head off down the West Coast road towards Wanaka in the morning. The only highlight of Greymouth was Brian the Barman, who seemed the only person with any life in them. The restaurant has very strict rules and very stroppy staff. "If it is not on the menu, do not bother to ask, and I told you to sit over there!!"..Greymouth is dead, long live Greymouth.
>
> The following morning after a very average breakfast (2 for Trumps) overseen by a Head School Mistress we motored down the main and only West Coast road. What had struck us the previous day travelling from Christchurch to Greymouth, was the very few vehicles on the road. We thought perhaps it was because we had taken a scenic route via Arthur's Pass. Exactly the same conditions applied to the road we were on. The road was quite straight in many places and you could see for miles that nothing was coming in the opposite direction. As for us having to pass anything, or being overtaken it was just a no no. Absolutely wonderful driving conditions, and I dislike driving normally! Trumps did not like my driving either. Tough shit!
>
> Unquestionably the route to Wanaka (a place recommended for a visit, and where Dennis had lived for a while) was spectacular, dominated by trees, shrubs and bushes all in their Springtime livery. The road hugged the shoreline, so there were many opportunities to take in the Tasman sea belting into the land and wonderful explosions of sea mist occurring. After a long days drive we arrived in Wanaka which was a lot smaller that I had envisaged. During my turn of driving, I had to listen to more oohs and aaghs together with Trumps prowess and success at an Institute of Advanced Motorists school, when he was informed by his tutor "that his standard of driving could not be faulted". And "I'm a biker" being a constant reminder of his unassailable ability. So fucking boring! So it was time to remind him that whilst I was working I drove 40 to 50,000 miles per year, both on the Continent and in the UK and had not had an accident for at least 30 years, and even then it was only a minor one. It then struck me. He had been used to always doing the driving and being in control. The amount of time he had been a passenger was extremely rare and he found it very difficult to adjust to. I asked him if that was the case and he replied it was. He went on to say that if he ever had the choice of being a passenger
> in a Car or Motorcycle, or having the Pox, he would choose the Pox every time. My case was rested. He is just a chicken shit passenger.

> Towards the end of our time in AKL, I had contracted a nasty cough which was getting worse. I had planned to see a Doctor whilst in Greymouth but Trumps informed me that I was much better off going to a Pharmacy for diagnosis and remedy. So Trumps is obviously a qualified GP as well!!! Are there no limits to Trumps abilities? My GP and the Doctor at Guy's Hospital had better watch out! Not that I felt up to it but we went out for Dinner in a highly recommended Restaurant in Wanaka and had a superb meal. I was sweating and cold but sticking to the remedy Dr John R W Trumper had suggested. By the morning and the sun being out we had a fairly quick look around Wanaka. Certainly you could not spend a lot of time looking around because it is quite small and appeared very nouveau riche-ish. Time to move on with the next stop being Queenstown. Queenstown is where the English Rugby team boys commenced their bad behaviour. Dwarf throwing, Tindall smooching, Bungy Jumping etc. As it was my turn to drive, Trumps very reluctantly took the passenger seat for some more hair raising driving, which included going up a big Mountain and down the other side. Without
> appearing to be giving me more driving coaching he suggested that "driving without using the brake was a good method of improving driving skills", but when I attempted it on the double bends on the way down the Mountain, he changed his mind. Chicken livered wanker. We stopped on the top of the
> Mountain for a couple of photographs and then headed towards Queenstown before stopping off at Arrowtown. A quaint (too quaint almost) Town, had a cup of coffee, changed drivers and went on to Queenstown. At this stage, whilst Trumps was driving he discovered that the car we had both thought was an automatic, could be changed to manual. So I was given more advice and had his expertise demonstrated whilst driving in a "manual" mode. Doesn't he ever stop? And I thought, if he is such a good driver, why had he not discovered this manual/auto feature before now?
>
> In Queenstown, which is a much bigger place, we went shopping for a NZ Provincial Rugby Jersey as a gift for one of Trumps sons back home. Having visited a number of shops, there was nothing doing and we were told all the Jerseys from the last season had been sold and the new season ones would not be in stock for a month or two. The jersey we sought was the Canterbury Crusaders. We did not stay long in Queenstown but it seemed a much better place to visit and spend time, rather than Greymouth or Wanaka. Next stop Oamaru and the roads from Wanaka to Queenstown and now
> towards Oamaru were all fantastic. Very little traffic and wonderful scenery all the way. We arrived Oamaru, chose a Hotel and checked in. The first impressions of the place were very hick. A short drive around revealed quite a lot of derelict or semi derelict buildings that in earlier times must have been quite stunning. The Blue Penguin Sanctuary appeared the main attraction of this town, not that we saw people flocking towards it! The Hotel was typical Fawlty Towers and eating in the Hotel was not an option as the fayre on offer was very poor. Finding somewhere to eat was a bit of another challenge so a pint or two to consider our options was thought sensible. We entered the Pub almost opposite the Hotel. Apparently there was a Quiz Night or something similar on that evening but of course there was only one conversation piece, the AB's. It was not possible to ignore that "everybody" in this Pub was hugely overweight. And the reason became quite obvious when the meals that had been ordered arrived. The plates were piled so high it seemed impossible to get anything else on them. And chips' chips, chips with everything. Not something we expected really because NZ has a reputation of it's people being fitness enthusiasts and very healthy. We did find a little restaurant that had been recommended. The sign on the place was so small we passed it 3 times before realising it was the place we were looking for. A very average meal followed. We had realised by now that certain parts of NZ were way behind the times. Oamaru could have been the 1950's. The next morning after our 3 breakfast's, two for Trumps and one for me, we decided to go to the Penguin Sanctuary. It was not quite open yet, but would be later in the day. Instead we thought let's take a coffee in the nice looking Restaurant opposite and book for Lunch. No such luck, closed on Wednesday's or something like that and Lunches are off until November 1st. Incredible, but then again we were probably the only tourists in Oamaru at that particular time. After a second night in Fawlty Towers, Oamaru we headed off for Christchurch where we noticed the roads had become dull and boring, together with a marked increase in traffic.
>
> After a 3 hour journey we were now entering the Earthquake struck centre of Christchurch but finding our Hotel was not that easy because using a Satnav proved to be impossible as many of the normal roads had been closed off or made one way streets to accommodate the falling buildings or road subsidence. During Trumps working life he had a Manager at his Heathrow Branch called Howard Browning. I had experienced the clever, eccentric, weird, unpredictable but successful Howard Browning during my working life as well and we were now going to meet his brother Gary, who lives in Christchurch with his wife Sally. Gary had recommended and booked for us a very good Hotel, but as I said, finding it without a Satnav proved a challenge. Needless to say Trumps was in "follow me" mode and for once excelled in his problem solving abilities. I think he just gets lucky some of the time!