From hospitable Brisbane in 80 degree heat with 80 year old relatives to 40 degrees and an English garden city of Christchurch - winter had arrived in the Southern Hemisphere. But what timing, Ryan Nelsen, the one and only captain of Blackburn Rovers and New Zealand, was speaking at the local casino on a charity bash that very night. I ironed and donned the blue n white halves and at the event received no little attention as the most dedicated long-distance travelling fan. If only they knew I was a part-timer. Only kidding, I donned the shirt again for my first ever bungy jump to prove my allegiance! Well, surely better than an England shirt at the moment... Then up to Nelson the town, I met up with a friend met in Nepal 8 months earlier who'd been taking care of my fleeces and sleeping bag. Stayed longer than planned as some other musically talented types (mainly flautists and fiddlers) winged in from near and far for a traditional celtic music festival, involving very late nights in Irish bars and ceilidh dancing. Many thanks to Brendan and Marcia for putting me up..Great craic. Down the west coast I travelled in Mr T, a rented converted Nissan Serena people carrierwith A Team-style stripe and tinted windows. Beatiful scenery, a glacier hike, the Milford Sound, saturated and misty with mile-high waterfalls, and my first and probably last bungy jump from the original 42m high Kawerau bridge above a rather chilly turquoise river. Complete lack of Kiwi interest in a tiny 1 bar village stymied my plans to take in a live 2am England match, but the morning replay justified my decision not to offer outrageous bribes and lose valuable beauty sleep. Attending the remaining matches in the wee small hours was a source of frustration that must have been magnified 20 times in England, save the few goals we managed. Shouldn't have expected any more from our master tactician I suppose, who now should return to the Simpsons nuclear plant with his outrageously acquired fortune and tales of saucy secretaries. What with shrek's stupidity and the golden boys' injuries, fortunately there were no english speakers around to hear my quiet curses in the Chilean bar watching the Portugal traditional penalty debacle. Anyone got any jokes about El Toro Zizou's matador cape(r)s? Anyway back to New Zealand, movin on up to the North Island, I took advantage of the worst snow they'd had in 30 years to go skiing. Walked the normally stunning landscape of the Tongariro volcano, replete with crampons and ice axe, in a complete white out until we were on the way down... Across the centre of the north island lies the geothermal wonderland replete with geysers, hot springs and mud pools. Rainbows of colour provided by the minerals oozing out of the depths, the air reeking of bad eggs (hydrogen sulphide). I attended a few Maori welcoming ceremonies and a Hangi feast (food cooked underground by natural steam). Striking culture and tribal dress clash of course, me and the 3 guys in front with North Face fleeces, the Maori performing the welcome and the overwhelming Haka with natural plant skirt and face paint. I just need to practice the words a bit more to give it a go. Learned lots of fascinating history about the islands too from the Penguin History of New Zealand - would recommend it if anyone's interested in knowing more before or after visiting. Part of it describes the disastrous 80% deforestation of the land for sheep farming. My last stop was at one of the few remaining Kauri forest areas, where a handful of the giant trees remain. 30m tall, but in the past there had been some 1200 years old, 100m tall and about 15m circumference. I've love to return here to complete more of the Great Walks in more favourable weather - the landscape is beautiful, and learn a bit more about the culture.