Like a Longfin Eel

It was utterly coincidental I think, but wonderful, that the next step of lockdown easing which allows church gatherings came about in time for Pentecost Sunday.  For the first time since I arrived here, the church across the road (pictured below with daisies) pealed out over half an hour of bells. The church I wanted to check out is only a couple of blocks away round the corner - so the bells serve as a good "Yo, get out the door" reminder.  The quote above is from Acts 2, and the sermon from the Pastor this week was beautiful, drawing together themes of togetherness and of the holy spirit, which never left any of us no matter how zoomed out and disconnected from church we may have felt.  She had dutifully punched out handfuls of dove shaped paper confetti, and at one point, with us all socially distanced and masked, she encouraged us to throw this confetti over ourselves. It was ridiculous, and sweet and wonderful. (Her point was, like the flutterings of tiny paper bird...

I think its been a week now of good and proper homesickness - a feeling I had forgotten about and how illogical yet overwhelming can be. I have vague rattling memories of being at Uni in a hall of residence and realising only after the Easter break, that everyone else on my floor had felt much the same as I did, but we all were trying far too hard to be cool and grown up to admit it. I remember also, feeling homesick half way through some really big adventures back in 2012, when I went to Bangladesh for a 3 months, with a trip to Albania afterwards before carrying on to many other locations. The forward propulsion helped then, but also the randomness and wonderfulness of finding myself in a backpackers in the middle of nowhere (Berat, actually) and finding myself with 8 other kiwis. One of them was named Duran (after the band Duran Duran) and was from Hamilton. I often wonder where he is these days. He was doing travelling right - had been in Albania for a while, and paid for hostel st...

I didn’t get a photo of myself but should have.   Again the kindness of my housemate drew me out to the magnificence of East Devon - on a walk that starts in the cusp of the Jurassic Coast and passes buttercup covered hills, an old water mill with a blacksmith sneaking a smoke by his fire, more wild garlic with its scent filling the air and remarkably tame gorse quivering in the sea wind; throwing out whiffs of pineapple into the air too.  The ocean round Devon after rain gets very red from the iron rich cliffs around. The famous white cliffs are a bit further east and north from here.  I am becoming a Devon ice cream cotnnesiour- they are for the most part, rich and sweet - although the serving sizes seem small, you wouldn't want too much. Our walk ended up in beer- a town of 1400 that I can’t help trying to imagine what may have been like during the dark depths of lockdown. The waterfront, instead of being blocked by posh houses, is a hillside of allotments; leeks ...

A s the next lockdown easing step unfolds; people can now meet inside.  https://www.theguardian.com/world/2021/may/10/end-of-englands-hug-ban-highlights-confusion-over-law-and-guidance https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-57136140 I confess I snuck up to London before that, after my second vaccine; in a gap in my roster and with my mask with a filter, on a high speed train from Exeter. As it happens; I caught the only high speed train that went from the south west that weekend... or going back, but more on that later. I had gone 63 days without a hug, beating my last record by 40 days; and getting to the point where I didn’t really notice it anymore. My next of kin here; a friend from my second year at Uni, lives with her husband and three kids in a sourdough* paradise in south London in Eltham. Like the Eltham in Taranaki, I experienced vast amounts of most excellent cheese. ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eltham,_New_Zealand ). (*KD's sourdough starter is from 2015, pre lockdown. Sh...

As you might imagine; my job as a gynaecoglogist involves some fairly uncomfortable procedures; but I’ve always been grateful that (unlike when you go to the dentist) people are able to talk back and you can generally build up some good chat as distraction from pain or discomfort.  I made the mistake this week of bringing up, halfway through a procedure, the topic of changing the name of the Exeter Chiefs. This caused the woman more distress than what I was doing, and clearly dropped her trust levels in me by several notches- “Oh no”, she cried, "Robbie wouldn’t have any of that. We’ve given up our mascot, isn’t that enough?” For background - the logo of the chiefs is quite a majestic profile of what looks like a Sioux Chief. It’s grown on me as I see it around on shirts and cars and hats, and hand in hand with this is a lot of appropriation of Native American culture. The mascot,  the pub names, the fans.  T he club was promoted to the  Premiership  for t...