Haven't blogged in ages but so much has happened on our Antipodean adventure, and much of it without the aid of the internet. Since my last post, Mr Grigg and I have been Waltzing Matilda in Sydney, driving up the coast to Brisbane sampling the delights of the Hunter Valley, looking at the Richmond Valley sugar cane fields through the expert eye of a Somerset farmer who emigrated out here in the 1940s and exploring the sub-tropical rain forests.
And the highpoint? Finding remnants of my great-uncle's life, with a TV series of his adopted town in the offing. Though, sadly, not from my pen but the creators of the Australian version of TV's Heartbeat, who obviously spotted the potential of Rappville, north New South Wales, before we got there. A one-horse, one-track, one-railway track town screaming out for a movie based around it. And in the screenplay I will never write, my great-uncle will be played by Eric Bana. Anyway, more of that later.
Today, Mr Grigg and I are are in New Zealand. And we have just been to the wedding of the year.
Today, the son of our dear neighbour and friend from Dorset, Mrs Bancroft, married Wonderwoman, an all New-Zealand girl with the grace and teeth only the superfit Kiwis seem to possess.
Lots of beauty, sunshine and joy. And here we are, from deep in Dorset, sharing in the happiness of Mrs Bancroft, who Mr Grigg and I love like a member of the family. There are others around the world who shared that joy with us, and I hope I will be able to capture some of that with these pictures.
And do remember, these come to you after copious amounts of alcohol and very high heels from yours truly, coming to you courtesy of a brand new dongle from a Vodafone shop in Auckland.
This blog has taken ages to write: people are splayed out on easy chairs and a post mortem is going on about the night before, which isn't even the night before yet. I've been trying to concentrate, with an ear on the conversation around me, with an iPod mix featuring Elvis Presley and Cilla Black and Martha Reeves.
My main concern is, of course, Mr Grigg, who is lounging around in boxer shorts being worn back to front to avoid embarrassment, and our dear friend Mrs B, who is a bit tearful after her only son's wedding. Her late husband would have loved it.
A few photos:
My feet ($25 shoes from Adelaide. I'm such a sucker for high-heeled shoes):
The lovely Mrs B's shoes:
And here comes the bride:
That's about it.
Love Maddie xx
They say that good things come in threes... Well, two good things have just happened to me, writing-wise. There's a feature about my...
The Beetle’s trundled more than eighteen hundred miles across Italy and France, with cars and lorries tooting both in frustration (it takes...
As I write, it’s a mad scramble to get things done before heading off on the annual weekend trip to North Devon. In years gone by, there w...
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was a child in a meadow with a woodland circle of beech trees around me. And there was clover growing i...
Once upon a time, when I was fit, I cycled up to the most wonderful place on earth. It's in West Dorset and, when you get to the to...