Back again....the Belle

Another day another season... that's Wellington!

Am again at the Belle with a filo pastry spinach roll which is quite good, and their version of my coffee which they call a 'versato', long black with hot milk. Have visited NZAF to talk World AIDS Day next week with R and L. Last year we collected more than $1600 dollars, mainly at the New World Supermarket. Wellingtonians are very generous, and more so, apparently than their Aucklander counterparts.

Cancelled French this morning as I don't want to make it a die-hard habit with J as it is not something to set into concrete when I know I am outta here in eight months. My excuse is the meeting I went to which is very valid. It will be a decorated Christmas this year in Wellie as the city rebelled against the sombre non-display of last year's Christmas in Wellington. The city is very pretty but it still needs to be lit up for Christmas fare, not that I celebrate it at all. It is a city run by the Chinese and the Indians to boot, although the vast real estate wealth of course lies in old hands  inherited from the colonial days.

Young and generous Maori athlete winning the Man of the Year Award

Filo and spinach...

A sample read at Belle...

My outlook....

...and a large place for smokers!

Am gearing up for a big weekend with a 70th birthday bash on Sat arvo at Beth's followed by a Long Hall talk on the history of the Opera House on Sunday arvo and then afterwards the big Concert for Interfaith. Dancing is cancelled on Sunday night. Oh, I forgot, Friday night concert of Peer Gynt at Michael Fowler courtesy of Fir who gave me her ticket which she was unable to use. So a big weekend, but it is amazing how much I can fit into life in this town, possibly because of its casual mid-speed pace of life....just cruises along.

Last night, for example, with no Scottish Dance, I caught a movie at the Lighthouse. An excellent French comedy with Maggie Smith starring with Kristen Scott Thomas and Kevin Kline in a just managed English spoken French movie. Subject of course, American in Paris, infidelity, mystery of fatherhood, and two f***** up kids being reunited as possible lovers after a lifetime of tragedy. Typically written and made by a Jewish writer who knows the trauma of a bad childhood. It was called My Old Lady and Maggie was indeed, a great interpreter of the role of a ninety two year old woman.