Eight days remain...

There are now just eight days remaining until my big ride around New Zealand's South Island. I have all but given up on getting the tent pegs clean enough for quarantine. There seems to be a black fungus of some kind growing on them, and pretty much nothing seems to be able to remove it. I'll be in Brisbane this weekend anyway (house-sitting), so I'll see if I can pick up some replacements at one of the camping stores in Fortitude Valley. As it is, I seem to have lost a couple, so perhaps that isn't such a bad solution over all. I'll save the ones I now have to use as spares on future tours. I think I'll throw in Mt Glorious or Mt Mee as the final substantial climb before I leave the country.

Incidentally, this weekend I'll be at my mother's apartment, looking after her Siamese Fighting Fish (I hope I've spelled that correctly). After having one of these things, it would be hard to go back to owning a goldfish. There's never a dull moment with a fighting fish. I'm told it even managed to jump clear out of it's tank last week (and survived the experience!). These things are also far more aesthetically pleasing than goldfish.



Another point to note: The average life expectancy of a fighting fish is around six months. My mother has had this one for over two years (since Christmas 2003 in fact), which would be the approximate equivalent of a human being living 300 years. I sometimes wonder if the "average" isn't influenced by the people who buy pets, bring them home and then totally fail to look after them. If it has that sort of impact, it must be an unfortunately common practice.