28th March 2009, my garden (the photo). 

It is the day after good friday, what ever that is. I’m sitting on a rock ledge, in the middle of a creek, eating lunch.

It is a beautiful day; sunny and warm.

I did have plans to go elsewhere, to walk through the botanic gardens, and check out a cemetary poking out into the Derwent river.

I am here at Sarah’s advice, ‘just keep following Augusta road, it’s beautiful’.

Not far from Wiebke’s, I found a store that sells good food – mushrooms, some ham off the bone, and weird crusty, dark, heavy bread rolls that look as though they belong in Germany.

That’s lunch.

I’m typing on my phone – it has a slide out qwerty keyboard that you use your thumbs with. I’m using micrososft word. I recommend it for writers, who want to record their thoughts wherever they are – I have known such a person, Cat Bat. Or people like me, travellers, who can compose their emails at leisure and send them all off when they have coffee at a café with free wireless internet. Or, just pay for the internet.

I’ve finished lunch.

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