South of the Stour, Like Really South

So I went from nearly 34,000 steps on Wednesday to less than 10,000 on Thursday due to, of course, several hours of sitting on a train.  I woke up Friday and the tracking app gave me a novel message after the two day “sprint and sit” if you will.  It read: “Call an architect! Your readiness just blasted through the roof!  You’ve put yourself in a great spot with your balance of rest and activity—so what do you have in store for today?”

 

What we had in store was a 40 minute walk to the Bohemian Bakery where the coffee is superb and the carbohydrates overflowing.  I can’t detail my consumption.  Oh, OK, I can.  A delectable Italian fennel sausage roll in puff pastry AND a cinnamon bun.  Fortunately they rate consumption in NZ by kilojoules.  And a kilojoule is only .2 of a calorie.  So less, right?

 

After so much sitting on a train yesterday, we set off on a walking route deep east towards the Pacific.  The city is in the process of completing a “city to sea” pathway from the CBD through to the ocean, in a suburb called New Brighton, which follows the banks of the Avon.  Not Stratford-Upon-Avon, Christchurch-Upon-Avon.  Although not finished-finished (that’s scheduled for 2027), the majority of the path is passable.  We didn’t make it the whole way to New Brighton, the eastern end, but darn close.  And back.  And it was gorgeous, rather serene given its city centre route, a birder’s haven, and a mix of cultivated gardens and feral bush.

That was pretty much the day.  Stephen had risen early, done two loads of laundry before I’d even realized what city I was in, what bed I had woken up in.  We did a full day of activity.  We took a break in the hotel gardens, freshened up, and walked back into the centre for dinner.  I think they call it Friday.

 

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