Nelson - another nice New Zealand town with the requisite number of shops, high street (one), cinema (one) and genuine oirish pubs (about a dozen). The main highlight for us was a trip to the World of Wearable Art where they display a collection of weird and wonderful fashions, and every year they have a grand fashion show that looks amazing. Next door is a collection of beautifully restored old cars, so there's something for everyone!

Due to our reluctance to smile nicely at strangers over breakfast whilst vacuously enquiring over the health of Tiddles or Rover, and my constant nervousness over the possibility of Brian getting into an argument over anything from New Zealand's nuclear policy to whether to put milk in first or second in a cup of tea with Humphrey or Margo, we have been mostly staying in a variety of motels whilst we travel - they are convenient, clean, comfortable and usually have a fridge and basic cooking facilities so we can heat up a little can of baked beans from time to time. Unfortunately what they provide in home comforts is undermined by the fact that they lack any form of character and mostly the view from the front door is of the car park - 20 exhaust pipes are not quite the majestic scenery we have been used to, whilst the box-like room itself is rather like staying in someone's converted garage. The beds also, strangely, always come with an electric blanket, which is unnerving; having all these lumps, bumps and electric cables running under the sheets at night. The last time I slept on an electric blanket I woke from a dream in which I was trapped in a sauna and woke just as my eyeballs were about to pop from my head to discover I'd forgotten to turn the thing off. I have never trusted them since.

The motel in Nelson has a heated outdoor swimming pool, so of course we checked it out eagerly only to discover it was more of a heated puddle. It also has a laundry, so we have a chance to wash all our clothes so we can spend the next few days luxuriating in the ability to pull clean stuff from our cases and not having to sniff a t-shirt before wearing it, quite a habitual occurrence for us over the last few months. (I know it's normal for some of you, don't write in!).

Ever since the mysterious disappearance - read grand larceny - of Brian's smalls he has, luckily for me, taken sole charge of our laundry. Standing guard over lone washing machines in far-off laundry outposts of New Zealand, his vigil to thwart the underwear thieves is relentless and, so far, they have not succeeded in denuding his underwear collection by one single pair. Meanwhile I have the chance to catch up on the latest episode of Neighbours while he's out and I'm more than a little worried to learn that Susan has developed Multiple Sclerosis, although cheered by the thought that, this being the world of soaps, she'll probably be better by next week and will have taken up a career as a nuclear scientist or adopted a llama.