From a distance, the memorial looks like 16 large metal poles, rising from a grassy hill. But as you get closer, you notice the angled crosses on the top of each one. And as you get closer still, you notice that each of the poles are quite different: some with embossed Maori carvings, others decorated with ferns and fauna.

And, with the accents of other New Zealand visitors around and London traffic in the background, it was a good place to stop awhile and think about other New Zealanders who travelled before us. And those who didn’t come home. And to remember them.

Tash

Today, after work, we had cocktails and a President Obama cake.  I love working in a place where these things matter, are talked about, are celebrated.  Where I wasn’t the only person taking a picture on her mobile phone.

I’m pretty sure the cake was ordered from Lola’s Kitchen, a North London company which specialises in cupcakes.  While the Democrat blue icing might seem a bit off-putting at first, it was absolutely delicious – as was the chocolate cake inside.

I have to admit that cupcakes weren’t something I paid a lot of attention to before coming to London, but there are a few places here that do them very well.  I love the red velvet cupcakes from The Hummingbird Bakery in Notting Hill and the ‘six packs’ of tiny cupcakes which are sometimes sold in egg cartons at the Whitecross Street Market on a Thursday or Friday.

And people say that there’s no decent food to be found in London…

Tash

But, with my early lunch break ticking away, it was on to Haymarket and to New Zealand House.  There was a sign in the window saying that New Zealanders  overseas could vote in the elections by downloading their voting papers and then faxing them back.  That just doesn’t seem like real voting to me.

So, I went in and there were the orange signs and the white ballot boxes.  The girl behind the desk almost gave me North Shore papers by mistake.  To be honest, I’d probably be more familiar with the candidates on the North Shore than the ones in Wellington Central, my current electorate because it’s the last place we lived in.  I filled in my name, address, job title, signed a declaration and then went into the boxes and made my two ticks.  Given our experience with the postal system, I doubt they’ll make it back to New Zealand before the winner is announced – but I’ll be watching the results come in on Saturday regardless.

While I was in the area, I also stopped in at Kiwifruits, a New Zealand store in the Royal Opera Arcade behind New Zealand House.  It was great to see a book by a fellow MA on the New Zealand fiction shelves… but what I was really there for was the Pineapple Lumps.

Judging from the faces of some of my colleagues this afternoon, the bubblegum textured squares of pineapplish goodness covered in chocolate may never catch on in England.  Without a ready supply in the corner stores, we must limit our Pineapple Lump consumption to the packets sourced on the rare trips home, the rather squashed bags that arrive in packages from the parents, and those sold at Kiwifruits.  There the rarity is reflected in the price: £2.75 a bag!

(That said, I still bought two bags.  I did intend to save at least one for Saturday, to eat as I watched the election coverage.  However, that second bag has, somehow, in the time since I arrived home tonight, opened itself and is half empty already).

Tash

This year, I’m content with taking blurry photos through our kitchen window of a display that’s going on somewhere nearby.  Fireworks are a rather unsettling prospect in the London suburbs.  It’s hard to know where they originate from, and the explosions echo between the houses, along the narrow streets.

Still, the fact that I can see them at all, is an improvement from the New Year’s effort.  We made sure we were at Embankment.  We made sure that we had a good position – one with a great view of the London Eye.  We stood there, in the cold.  The fireworks started.  The smoke started.  The smoke mixed with the cold, and became like fog, and after a couple of minutes, our view of the fireworks had become completely obscured.

There were thousands of people there, walking along the strand.  There were streamers and the tubes home were free.

I can’t believe that the end of 2008 is almost here.

Tash

But, as the words on the postcards suggest, ‘yes, we care‘ about the voting that’s going on in the United States of America as I type this.  The BBC 1 coverage doesn’t even start till after 11pm, but we’ll be staying up late to watch.

And of course, equally important (for me at least), is the New Zealand election this weekend.  Apparently votes can be cast by downloading ballot papers and faxing them back to the Electoral Office.  However, that doesn’t have quite the same romance as voting at New Zealand House in Haymarket – so I’ll be heading over that way sometime later in the week, before the polls close at 4pm on Friday.

And then I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed.

Tash

Afterwards, as we looked at a map of Regent’s Park, Matt asked me to point out the route that we ran, and I couldn’t.  I remember a lake and some green elephant statues, but apart from that, it was just a case of putting one foot in front of another and hoping the finish line appeared soon.

Eventually it did, and when it did, I was suprised to see that the clock read something like 28:59.  5km in under 30 minutes – I was pretty pleased with that, as it’s better than I’d done in any of my training sessions.  Matt and Cautney had barely had a chance to get through the food queues between the start and the end of the race.  For me it seemed much longer, and a week later I’ve still got the blisters on the soles of my feet.

All in all, I still don’t think I’m a candidate to run the London Marathon.  But another 5km in a year or so?  When sufficient time has passed so I can forget that last km of suffering? 

I’d consider it.

Tash

This morning, my fellow Race for Lifer, Anne and I took on a new route: running from Putney Bridge to Hammersmith Bridge. According to mapmyrun.co.uk, that’s about 2.75km each way – and I think it’s even further than that, because the Thames Path diverts away from the Thames in places (we had to run around the Fulham Football Club, for example).

The Thames isn’t the most scenic of rivers. At low tide, the brown water reveals brown mud. But there are benches along the path, and a multitude of dogs, and parks, and the bridge in the distance to aim for. It would probably be a nice walk on a sunny day. We ran today, and it rained on us.

It’s 7 o’clock now and I’ve just got home from writing group. I’m writing this, and then I think that’s enough mental and physical exercise for today. Next on the agenda is some couch time, and watching others exert themselves as the last few sets are played out of the Men’s Final at Wimbledon.

Tash

Still, it was great to be there, to be given the official booklet (A Guide to Queueing for the Championships) and the stickers that confirmed we had.  After 5pm, grounds passes are £14, which I thought was okay as at this time of year, there’s plenty of daylight (and thus tennis) left after 5.

Our grounds tickets didn’t let us into Centre Court, but we found seats around Court 18, where we watched the Australian Guccione lose to Bozoljac from Serbia and then the British Mel South lose to Alyona Bondarenko from the Ukraine.  Even after one day of play, the grass on the court was beginning to show a bit of wear and tear.

After watching the two games, we found a picnic table and shared an expensive burger with a bottle of beer and a glass of wine, while watching Lleyton Hewitt (who won) on the big screen.

The weather’s been surprisingly good for Wimbledon this year – though it did suddenly pour down for half an hour on Friday afternoon, as if to remind us not to get complacent.  This is England after all.

Tash

The trouble comes when I go outside. Outside and summer doesn’t agree with me here in London, and I can only manage about 100 metres before my nose starts running and my eyes start tearing up. A couple of hundred metres later, I get a side-stitch, I’m out of breath and that’s the end of it.

So it’s kind of worrying that, in just over a month’s time, I’ll be running 5km in a Race for Life event at Regent’s Park. Unfortunately Regent’s Park isn’t a gym. It’s outside. It’s got grass, and given that it’ll be July, it might even be sunny. If you’d like to support me through this trauma, you can click on the rectangular ‘Sponsor Me’ button to the right here.

Perhaps the fact that I’m not only suffering, I’m also raising money for Cancer Research UK, will help me get through.

Tash