pimp my face up ...

It probably goes without saying, but I feel a bit of a plonker walking around like this.

I suppose at least I should be grateful I'm in a country where outlandish facial hair is regarded as the height of good taste. Almost as much as in Belgium.

All the cities we've visited in New Zealand seem to have their own unique character and the capital Wellington is no exception. Life here really does revolve around the numerous bars and cafe's, so much so that the city actually gets busier at 6pm and parking spaces far more difficult to come by.

It's been really nice just to relax for a couple of days and we didn't do much other than paying a visit to the impressive "Te Papa " National Museum which covers all aspects of the nations natural and cultural history. One of the more interesting exhibits is a room in which you can experience a simulated earthquake.

Of course my new facial hair has not gone unnoticed by the local females.

Mind you, I don't think Mel has too much to fear from the shop assistant who attempted to flirt with me as I was buying a new pair of shorts. After asking where I was from, she said "Oh nice! .. we have UK shoe sizes here". Eventually she broke my stunned silence that followed by saying "Hmm, that's not very interesting is it?". I didn't like to say.

Full credit to her though, she carried on trying with insightful followup questions like "So what does UK stand for then?" and of course the ubiquitous "So, is Leeds near London then?". After I'd put her straight she attempted to explain her ignorance by giggling and saying "Well, I was never any good at history".

Confused, I ventured "Do you mean geography?", to which she replied "Geography? God no, I was terrible at that ...".

I still don't think she had the slightest idea what I was talking about.