Timaru to Christchurch

April 13, 2026 – Left Timaru in the rearview. The road back to Christchurch wound past Farmers Corner, where sheep and alpacas roamed like they owned the place. David – who’d left San Francisco jacket-free, trusting his iPhone over both common sense and his wife’s reminder – started to feel the flu close in, and finally surrendered to a merino-possum sweater from Marinomink. His first. Well-earned.

Lunch in Lyttelton, a slow drift along Te Ana Marina, then the city. With David and Alfred both under the weather, we checked in and declared a rest day. I slipped down New Regent Street alone and landed at Gin Gin, cocktail in hand, the afternoon dissolving into evening.

Simple, unplanned, perfect.