My first trip to New Zealand taking in both North and South Islands. A memorable place to see! I would almost rather live there than Britain!

The house now has one more mammal dwelling therein. On Saturday we drove to Corley Service Station north of Coventry and met up with Clare from Telford. Clare was giving up one of her Ragdoll cats which wasn't coping with the other cats in the household. It had become reclusive, hiding away in kitchen cupboards. And the ragdoll rehoming group had offered it to Virginia and me as we were quiet people with a quiet house. So we returned home, and set down the carrying basket in the kitchen. Opened it and the cat (which we've renamed Tabitha though I doubt if the cat really knows) got out. Wandered around like a prisoner at Colditz checking out the escape routes. And vanished under the kitchen cupboards. She wasn't really seen for two days. Food disappeared. The litter trays needed cleaning. But the cat itself had disappeared even better than the Cheshire Cat. Yesterday she did emerge, and slowly gained confidence in us. As a lap cat she is a little boisterous. All the toys Virginia got aren't attracting a lot of interest - the crinkly tunnel seems to frighten her. Someone coming downstairs will send her fleeing towards the safety of the kitchen and its recesses. Tabitha is a vocal feline. She makes a very odd deep growling noise (apparently when she's happy.) At 6.30am this morning she was making plaintive miaows outside the bedroom door (as a guess because she was out of food.) But it is impossible to work out what she means some of the time.

My thanks to all those who came to my 50th birthday celebration at Histon Baptist Church Hall, and particularly to Virginia who put so much effort into it all.

Virginia and I have had a week on the Isle of Wight, staying at a B&B in Shorwell. I think she enjoyed it more than I did. We went and saw Osborne House where Queen Victoria liked hanging out. The excerpts from her diaries in various places made her seem almost like a normal person... the overpowering opulence and movie set nature of the place counteracted that. For me the monarchy has had its day.

"Atlantis 2: Beyond Atlantis" is the second game in the Atlantis series from the now defunct French game developer Cryo. The story is written by Jehan K. Robson who blends different cultures while yet honouring them. There are three worlds wherein you will play most of the game. You will be an Irish monk on an island trying to resolve issues for the pre-Christian deities. You will be a Mayan soldier trying to avoid the Jaguar God becoming supreme, and ushering in an age of bloodshed. You will be a Chinese scholar trying to find an immortal to help deal with a monster. The places you will travel to are literally out of this world, you are tripping out. The imagination and artistry of the game developers is stellar. What you have to do in each situation makes sense from the cultural setting you are. The puzzles are traditional Adventure game puzzles, no action or timed puzzles though the spider web may feel otherwise. Some of the puzzles are off the wall to put it mildly. Some of them can have a high frustration value - the crossing the Rainbow bridge did for me. I needed a walkthrough. A beautiful game, a shame they don't make them like that any more.

It was a long drive from Cambridge up to Northumbria. The A14 was crawling, and the A1 around Newcastle was bad, but apart from that plain sailing - if a journey of 6 hours can be plain sailing. Saw the "Angel of the North" just south of Newcastle - what an ironwork statue erected not that long ago there is called. Not overpoweringly impressive to me. Stayed in the Victoria Hotel Bambrugh which was fine. That like much of the area could date from Victorian days if not earlier. It was stepping back in time a little. From my room I had a good view of the castle in Bambrugh. Dined at the hotel - just simpler - and breakfasted. On the Saturday I felt guilty as I got downstairs at 8am sharp and the staff were trying to have an early morning rest. I had gone up to Northumbria to go on a birdwatching day on Holy Isle. My bird watching is of a low-level, so by eye the kestrel perched on a telephone pole was an anonymous shape. Even with the binoculars I brought it could have been any bird to my eyes. In the telescope the guide had brought you could see the kestrel resplendent. The Saturday dawned very misty and stayed misty, making crossing the causeway from the mainland to Holy Isle more adventurous. This was my first time in the area and I had pictured Holy Isle as a rocky outcrop - instead there's an expanse of sandflats and marshes to cross before you get to rolling sand dunes then gentle hills where sheep roam. Part of the attraction was to see Holy Isle - a castle on a high mound, a walled garden seemingly in the middle of nowhere, the eroded walls of the Abbey, tea rooms in the High Street. We did quite a bit of walking between beaches and harbours and bird hide - saw apart from the kestrel fulmars and teals and grebes and guillemots and cormorants and eider ducks and goldfinches and meadow pipits. I wouldn't be able to tell them apart by myself even now!

Virginia and I spent a long weekend in York, an old city with Roman / Anglo-Saxon / Viking and Norman pasts. York is haunted by old buildings and walls and ruins and history. Ghosts too to judge by the number of "Ghost Walks" on offer.