When I wrote my last posting I had thought that it might have been the last of the trip as I did not expect anything of much interest worth writing about to take place in Dubai but as things turned out I do have a bit more to recount. To start with the flight from NZ to Oz was not without incident. It started well with a clear view of the Canterbury plains including the area around Mark's farm but cloud shrouded the whole of the west coast with just the peaks of the alps clear of the clouds. The meal was disappointing - chicken served tepid - and cabin crew offers to heat it up!! One toilet not working so the one just in front of our seats is in constant use and to cap it all the crew has an accident with the trolley which results in a bottle of wine being spilt over Marilyn. They are very apologetic and in an effort to make amends they give M a bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne assuring her that there will be no problem at the airport provided it is declared. We land at Sydney and have to leave the aircraft with our hand luggage which now includes the champers but as we go through Security the bottle is confiscated despite the explanation as to how we had come by it. M is not a happy bunny and is near to tears when asked by the receptionist in the Emirates Courtesy lounge if she has had a good flight. I tell her of our problems and she invites me to fill in a complaint form. In the nicest possible way I suggest that she should fill in the form as I had already made my complaint to her. She gets the message and by the time we re board the aircraft the message has reached the new crew who are falling over themselves to make amends. The toilet has still not been fixed though!!

Thursday 27th November. Land in Dubai at 5.30am and can't check into our room at the Tower Rotana Hotel until 10 which is a bore. Try to contact Joanna who works in the UAE without success but I have been e-mailed details of where Dhows are built in Dubai so get a taxi to the spot. As we approach what seems like a derelict area piled high with junk broken fibreglass boat moulds and scrap I can just see one Dhow in course of construction but no obvious road leading to it and the taxi drives on past the area until it comes to some dockyard gates with security guards. The driver asks me if I have a pass or who am I going to see. I try to explain I only want to see some boats being built and eventually the guard waves us in. We drive through the yard past lots of offices stores shipping agents chandlers etc and I am now beginning to wonder how the hell we are going to get back from here if I let the taxi go. Eventually we arrive beside the ship repair area where there are lots of big wooden Dhows chocked up on steel trolleys on railway track. I ask the driver if he can wait for half an hour or so and he says "OK. I go and pray" and switches off the meter. M and I wander off amongst the boats looking so completely out of place in our tourist garb and dangling camera surrounded by overalled Indian workmen in hard hats and ear defenders accompanied by a cacophony of beating hammers. Nobody seems to care so I am able to get a real close look at the shipwrights recaulking, replacing planking and re nailing with dump nails. Take lots of photos. Don't suppose they see too many tourists in here!! Our spiritually refreshed taxi driver meets us and starts the meter again to take us to the old part of town where we can get a water taxi ("abra" 20p fare) across the creek to the area of the town where the spice and gold souks can be found. M manages to be hijacked by a very persistent hustler who leads her off through a maze of passages and up some stairs to a small room (air-conditioned) stacked floor to ceiling with handbags of every known designer label (almost all of which are not known to this pair of old codgers) From under the counter he produces a box of gaudy watches - Rolex of course - but quickly gives up on me when I make it clear to him that I do not wear a watch so he then starts on M. She puts up a good fight and eventually I manage to drag her free from his clutches. Having done the souks beating off the approaches of every front man from every shop we wander along the quay where the cargo dhows are tied alongside and the quay is stacked high with boxes of cargo of every description and we make a booking to go on one of the dhows for an evening cruise around the creek with buffet dinner tomorrow evening.

Friday 28th November. Have nothing planned for today but as I am about to start breakfast I hear the word 'Rugby' mentioned in conversation between a couple of men at the next table. Never one to be shy at coming forward I ask if they are going to the Dubai Sevens and they confirm that they are but one of them says that he may not go and asks if I would like his ticket. Now there's a silly question and I finish up paying £20 for a £35 ticket but I have to find my own way to the ground as his mate is leaving in ten minutes and I have not yet had breakfast. All public transport in Dubai appears to be taxis (apart from the mini coaches that run from hotels to the shopping malls) but they are building a high level railway which is due to be opened in a year or so. I try to bum a ride with some other people outside the hotel who are going to the rugby without success so have to take a taxi on b my own thinking it will only be a fiver or so. Three quarters of an hour later we are still burning up the motorway across the desolate arid desert and the meter is reading £25. Finally we arrive at the stadium built in the desert with nothing else in sight. The stands are built with scaffolding. No seats but the boards are covered with plastic 'grass' for sitting on. The pitch is immaculate - like green as can be velvet and there are four 'outside' pitches for the junior games. The programme of games goes on until 8.00pm so I am not able to stay for all the games but do manage to see all the major countries play at least one game. I do manage to share a taxi for the return trip into town in the company of a well oiled Glaswegian who is convinced that we are being given the run around by the driver and is very forthright in making his convictions known to the driver. Very entertaining. The evening trip on the Dhow was fun and we had a good view of floodlit QE2 recently arrived in Dubai where she is going to be converted to a floating hotel/appartments. The mini-bus ride back to the hotel at the end of the evening was a thrill a minute with M's knuckles a ghostly white and feet hard on the brakes all the way.

Saturday 29th November. Flight home is without incident but I suspect that word has reached the crew that we are a crusty pair of codgers as we seem to be singled out for attention and I have had an e-mail from Emirates in London to tell me that they have heard our complaint in Australia and are looking into it.. We have a very helpful and thoughtful driver of the courtesy car who drives us home and so ends the Codgers Perambulations. A fantastic trip. I hope dear readers that you have found something to amuse. I doubt if I would have had the will power to keep up the blog without your feed back in the comments. Many thanks to you all. You are of course welcome to view the gallery of photos that has accumulated. Guaranteed cure for all insomniacs. Adieu Hackers.

Proud farmer. The homestead and a big boys toy.

Am now at Christchurch Airport waiting to start the journey home so this will probably be the last posting. Will be stopping in Dubai for a couple of days but that does very little for me unless I can get to see the old arab who builds big wooden boats on the beach.

Monday 24th November. On the drive up to Mark & Sue's farm at Happy Valley near Methven we stop at Bob Lynn's house to collecta signed copy of his book "Woodwork - My first seventy years". Found him in his workshop so took lots of pictures. It was very difficult to get away from him as he is stone deaf and wants to tell everybody of his life history. Dear old fellow and could have spent all day with him and learnt a lot if we had had the time. Drive on accross the Canterbury plains with dead straight roads for about 30kms. Find the farm without any difficulty. Mark takes us on a guided tour of the farm. 1600 acres. Beef Sheep (thousands) Barley Wheat and lots of grass. Unlike many of the farms on the plain he does not irregateand relies upon the slightly higher rainfall that occures close to Mount Hutt.He has linked two adjoining farms that occupy the terraces beside the river Rakaia. The terraces have been created by glacial action and it is an intriguing landscapeOver the millenia the top soils on the north side of the river have been blown by the prevailing wind and deposited on the terraces on the south side of the river. Mark has a hydroelectric power plant at the bottom of the farm which is powered by water in a 66KMS canal built in the depression. The electricity company sellswater to the farms through which the canal passes for the irrigation of the plains. Mark has just concluded a deal with the company that will facilitate the extension of the system. He has three working dogs and runs the whole show with the help ofjust one employee - a 70 year old Malayian war veteron who can't stop working.He also employs two men in their 60's for two months a year to do just fencing. The farm looks to be in very good order but a drop of rain would do a power of good to improve the growth of the grass for silage. Mark and Sue left Sussex to come out here 11 years ago since when they have managed to create a very successful farming enterprise out of farms that were very run down when they bought them. They have had their set backs from time to time such as devastating hail storms and snow storms. Sue'smother Heather is staying with them at present. H and M were friends as teeagers so had plenty to talk about. We stayed the night with them and Mark and I were able to put the world to rights and compare notes on farming today compared with farming in the thirties when my father and his grandfather farmed adjoining farms at Rogate in the very bad old days of farming. A blessed rain in the night and the river is running very high by the morning.

Tuesday 25th November. Our last whole day in NZ. Say our goodbyes to Mark and family and drive to Akaroa on the most extraordinary volcanic peninsular South East of Christchurch named by Capt Cook as Banks Island (He did not realise then that it is not an island) after Banks, the botanist he had onboard Endeavour at the time. Akoroa was founded by French settlers on the side of the flooded crater making a wonderful sheltered harbour. There is a strong French flavour to the place. Very picturesque. main tourist attraction is boat trips to swimwith or look at Dolphins. I watched a fishing boat unload its catch after three days at sea. Soles, Flounders and Brill all very good size. The boat trip was fully booked as the morning trip had been cancelled due to high winds soM not too disappointed as it would have been 'tippy'. We are booked into a self contained studio flat in a private house half way up the mountain side with a great view out over the village and harbour. Spend a lazy afternoon looking around the little local museum and doing some retail therapy. Cant get a table for dinner until 8.30 so the Gin o'clock hour gets extended during which time a good foundation for dinner is laid down particularly as we have to finish the gin tonight. We have to share a table in the restaurant with a couple of young chinese students on holiday from Sidney University and we enjoy eack other's company. The girl tells M that she reminds her of her mother! they are fromShanghi and get no grant from the Chinese Govmt. so we conclude that they must have wealthy parents to be able to support them at Uni and to take holidays. They are only children of course. The mealwas very good indeed - one of the best of the whole trip - and we share each others dishes. The place has tons of atmosphere as every bit of space on the walls and the ceiling have been covered with graffiti by customers over a period of 12 years. Most comments complimentary. There is a chef proprietor and his wife does all the waiting (32 covers -double sitting) and they only have one other in the kitchen. Not too expensive but the wine prices a a triffle high.

Wednesday 26th November., Drive toairport via Lyttleton - the old port of Christchurch and still used for commercial traffic. there is an interesting "time ball" here which was used in the olden days to signal to the ships in the harbour the exact Greewich meantime once a day. Breath a great sigh of relief when able to return the hire car without a scratch.

Our day playing with engines.

Sunday 23rd November. Again we start the day with no particular itinerary in mind except to drive in the direction of Christchurch to meet up with Mark and Sue on their farm tomorrow. First stop just outside Twizel at the bottom of Lake Pukaki where there is a big dam built as part of the Hydroelectric scheme built in the 70's. There is a fine view across the lake to the snow capped mountains but Mt.Cook still has it's head in the clouds. Alarge canal has been built to connect the two lakes Pukaki and Tekapo. No evidence of narrow boats on it!! As we approach Lake Tarpo we pass a sign to Mt St. John Observatory so decide to have a look. Wonderful all around view of the plains and lake from the top but the price of the coffee was eye watering. Decide to spend the night at Ashburton and on the way into town we come across a Steam Railway Restoration Society who are having an open day so stop for a ride. All the volunteers are very excited because this is the first day that they have been able to have two of their engines steamed up at the same time and they have brought out a third (smaller) engine for a photo shoot. The ride on the train is only a couple of miles but fun nevertheless. There is also a woodworking museum with a fantastic collection of wood working tools and lathes. In attendance is the 94 year old founder who is very keen to tell us all about the exhibits many of which he has made himself including a model of a staircase made when he was 10! Can't resist buying his book and getting him to sign it.

Pictures of Bungy Bridge, a"Wheel Nut's" unusual garden fence, Wild lupins and the Wilderness.

New driver for the Kingston Flyer