Bad Wind

Dear Princess & Pete,

People tell you about the wind in Wellington. They mention gales, but no-one mentions the WHOOOSH or the HOOOOOWL as the wind whips around your flat.

When you step out into it, the wind attempts to steal your hat. And then it SHOOTS down your knickers and grabs your goolies. I have become a t-shirt tucker since I moved here.

"It's not like that EVERY day," the locals tell you. In fact, one local put it best when he said, "There ARE nice days in Wellington, it's just unlikely that you get more than one in a row."

It's true. We've had about half a dozen really beautiful days since we arrived. That's not bad. But we've also had three really gusty days. The trick is not to go out in them. I mean, what sort of idiot ventures out on a day like today?

Well, me. As it turns out.

I headed out early this morning. I found some bloke's wallet on my way home yesterday, and it was bothering me that he might be panicking and cancelling all his cards, so I went out to drop it off at his bank nice and early with the plan of then spending the rest of the day at home.

But then I got calls from two separate employment agencies who wanted to see me. Ordinarily I would tell them to eff off, but there's been this hideous slurping noise associated with my bank account lately and I'm feeling a need to start making money again. So I went BACK into town. How bad could it be?

Let me tell you.

I nearly got KNOCKED FLAT by a pigeon. I think it was blown clear out of a tree and missed my napper by about 3 inches. To be fair, the pigeon seemed as surprised as I was.

But in the end I made it to both agencies and back again in one piece. On my way home I went via the cable car and took this picture of the light show in the tunnel. It was tempting to put Faithless on my iPod and wave a glow stick, but I restrained myself.

S.