Today is the sort of day which, as vouchsafed in song and fable, Wellington is difficult to beat on.
According to the temperature gauge in my car (which never lies) , it was 33.5 degrees down on the ashfelt on Oriental Bay at 3.20 this arvo.
Took my first dip of the year. There was a time, only a few years ago, when I did a circuit from the beach beside the Freyberg, across to the fountain and back. It’s a kilometre there and back and when the sea is choppy its a damn good workout.
Not up to that at present but am quietly working on it.
The capital is settling down again after the Sevens Invasion which began on Friday. It was pretty ugly, and most of the country has now seen the Sevens fans running amok in Borat-like scrotum-bulging costumes.
The hell is now over. Mind you there were some very nice young women in short skirts around the place. Well, it was hot.
I did watch some Sevens, but that was in about 1991, I think it was. Sevens is only rugby in the sense that a minnow is a fish.