chapter takes place mainly on the South Island of
New Zealand, where I spent most of January 2010. My journey continues along the same,
code-numbered pattern with unusual discoveries.
10. Sensation - saison
My year 2010 started
watering our garden. Because of the continuing drought
Adelaide's gardeners are allowed to water, holding a hose
for five hours a week; but not to use a sprinkler. Our
Premier does not trust us with attaching a sprinkler to
the hose, which would not use any more water, if done
first day of 2010, as I stood watering, I listened to our ABC
Radio. I had heard many strange lyrics, but that morning
I learned of a Paul Kelly song, written about his home
town Adelaide. One of Australia's most popular
singer/songwriters ends his song with:
"All the king's horses all the king's men
wouldn't drag me back again to Adelaide, Adelaide,
Not an encouraging song for Adelaide residents. Next, Kel Richards in his
segment informed listeners of the heated debate, which had
been raging in the New South Wales town of Jervis Bay.
What is the correct way of pronunciation - Jervis or
As if the average Australian had nothing else to
think about on the first day of the new year. But then, I am also one of
those citizens, definitely not average, who insists on getting things right.
In the afternoon I rewarded myself for having published
the two previous chapters, almost
on time. I took my GIANT (bicycle) for a ride through the beautiful hills
around Adelaide, the city which Paul Kelly is no fran
As my legs were turning the pedals, my mind kept
flooding with thoughts. Readers by now will not be
surprised at the trivia, which my mind occupies itself.
However, the timing of this trivia, the discoveries I
make, seldom seize to amaze me.
Grinding my way up Ansteys Hill I was thinking about the
letter* 0, which many times had played centre stage in some of my
strange tales. It's twin, the letter 0, is the
15th letter in the alphabet.
(*correction - should read: number).
Moments after thinking this, reaching the top of the
hill, I took a photo. I had seen a little magic, that
day's date, in the number of the arterial
road I had just cycled up - A 11.
A is letter 1. I added 0 and
it became the date 1.1.10.
At the tiny village of Houghton I stopped for a rest at
the lovely town square, a tranquil place. I just
sat on the steps of the war memorial, enjoying the
sunshine, admiring the lush green, well kept gardens all
around. The little stone church opposite silently
witnessed it all.
Before leaving I read the names on the bottom of the memorial.
One name, which
looked like it had been freshly engraved, took my
attention. There was another name, very similar, engraved
on the metal plate, just above. There was a discrepancy, which bugged me. Take a look:
A 11 to Houghton. I had not
cycled up there in many months or years? On 1.1.10 I
DJ HAMEISTER and F.HAMIESTER.
It is quite possible the two are
related; and somebody changed their name, for whatever
More than the similarity in name,
I was bemused by the possibility of applying two of my
codes (plus e... and ...a to o) to create Homeaster,
pronounced like home master (Meister = German for Master).
- - - - - - -
Only the day before writing, another
oddity crossed my P/C screen. Things didn't add up, I had to speak
out. I was searching the SAPOL
(South Australian Police) website in preparation for the
Neighbourhood Watch Newsletter, of which I am the editor. One item of breaking news
caught my eye:
"Missing Person - Amy Louise S...
[full name was supplied)
Holden Hill Police are concerned for the welfare of
Amy Louise S... (16 years) who went missing from her
Golden Grove home at about 8.20 pm on Tuesday 3 February
I saw two reasons to speak out, emailing my thoughts to
the contact address on the police website. One, February 3 was a
Wednesday, not a Tuesday. Two,
the not so little girl had barely gone missing twelve
hours. Was it not a little early to raise an alarm? Had Amy-Louise been a six-year old girl, I could
But then, the numbers 272 and 468 (both of which I
searched out via the phonebook, plus the word Milford, may be
see clues everywhere; too many, perhaps?
- - - - - - -
Cycling back from Houghton via Tea Tree
Gully I passed a church on Milne Road. I had been praying
for a sick lady, who I only met once. When I noticed the street
name Magnolia Ct, my antenna went up. A famous street, in my
writing, is named Magnolia Ave. It's located in Riverside,
Just opposite Magnolia Ave (in Tea Tree Gully)
was another hint at the US, a motor
vehicle's registration plate - 553. (The address of the US
consulate in Melbourne). For this reason I
decided to visit this church two days later, Sunday
For some unexplained reason, unless it was
planned by the ONE who knew best, I arrived 1/2 hour early
for the evening meeting. Why waste the time, I took my bike
for a ride along a picturesque road, which borders Ansteys
Hill Conservation Park.
A kilometre along that road, on the ground was a piece of paper,
about half the size of a postcard. It had $10 written on it,
probably a price tag from a garage sale. From
experience, as my mind switches to another frequency, I take a look at the
immediate surroundings. if there is something I should see.
The paper lay just outside a
driveway, where three cars were parked. In a flash of a
second my brain arrived at the number 10. All I had to do,
deduct registration plate 900 from another in the same
driveway ...910. (Please note 0 9 1)
The third plate consisted of the numbers 3
and 5; too familiar to simply dismiss. For this reason I also took a
closer look, right there, at the hand-written note on the
telegraph pole. Jesse (a bird) had gone missing. If found,
please phone 04 ... I had not found any bird, nor seen one
like Jesse, but I still took note of the
phone number - it contained 15, 228 etc.
I could not resist sending a text message to
the sad bird lover: FOUND JESSE YET? Surely, this would encourage
her or him, that there is another concerned citizens in
the world, who takes an interest in the welfare of our
two-legged feathered friends?
Back at the church the service was due to
start. A young
couple, Alison and Craig, made me feel very welcome, even
though I was almost old enough to be their grandfather. The
church pews had a shelf for hymnbooks and bibles. As I
casually picked up a bible, a brand new NIV King James
edition, I noticed on the back, engraved in gold, the number
Since the number 910 was fresh in my mind, I
immediately rearranged it as - 900 10. (With words and
letters they call this rearranging anagrams, read on). I really
enjoyed the DVD that screened that evening. A modern
approach, presenting the Gospel - Tomatoes 022 is all I
- - - - - - -
While I am dealing with a nine, an
interesting variation of that number appeared that same
evening 3.1.10 on
the ABC's religious affairs program Compass. In the very
first scene, a well know, former ABC Religious
Affairs reporter, John Cleary, was
walking along a street in Brunswick, Melbourne toward his old *Salvation Army Citadel.
(*Most weird, as I edit right here,
a brass band on Southern Star Radio, New Zealand is
playing: Onward Christian Soldiers - I can't confirm
this, but my guess, it's a Salvation Army Band - 9/2/10
- 5 PM Adelaide time).
East Brunswick was the location of
a memorable church service I wrote about in Book 7, Chapter
6. I paid attention. Right at the beginning of the program,
as John was walking along the street, a parked
motor vehicle showed up on the screen, very briefly. It was long enough
for me to see its registration plate - PIX 500.
= PIX D = P 9 D (On editing I see the word
- - - - - - -
At the end of Book 7 I failed to
amazing 96 link to Townsville (the town with 96 000
inhabitants). It came to me during the New Zealand
holiday, after visiting a church service in ...ville.
(Full story to come).
The first 4 letters (VILL) are Roman
Numerals. Take LL as 100 (50+50) and VILL turns into
(A few years back, a long-running, Australian TV serial
had that name -
- - - - - - -
(Back to Adelaide, Sunday Feb 7th, 2010)
Why would I come home from church, remove
the sock from my right foot, fire up the computer and
produce a jpeg on my scanner - my sock, together with Hymn No.
342? (The Hymnal for
Worship and Celebration - Word Music, Waco Texas).
Judge for yourself, if my my thoughts are
reasonable, or it's all co-incidence or crazy or what?
Getting dressed for church I chose the red, plain, short-sleeved shirt. It looks just right for
church, I thought. After I had put on fresh socks, I noticed
a dark spot, most likely grease from the bicycle. It wasn't large. I couldn't be bothered looking for
another pair. Who would notice? (Somebody took notice, read
Sitting in church minutes later, crossing my legs,
as men do, I noticed that dark spot. Most likely the lady
behind me may have seen it too. What a dilemma - a worshipper
with dirty socks! It didn't bother me. Why try to hide
anything. God does not look on the outside; the stain or holes in
our socks. No matter who we are or how we're dressed -
HE accepts us as we are.
Next came the magic, or madness, think as
you may. The brass band played a wonderful rendition of a
popular song (take note): Just as I am without one plea,
but that thy blood was shed for me ..."
The words were displayed on the screen. I
could not help thinking of the red shirt I was
But it came better still, a connection in
that same hymn to my spot on my sock: The preacher, to
conclude the service, had asked the brass band to again play
Just as I am... It had been a wonderful service of
re-dedication to Jesus.
Had the band not played the hymn again, I may have missed it altogether. Singing the second
verse along with the band I had to smile, as the
lyrics appeared on the screen: "Just as I am and
waiting not, to rid my soul of one dark blot..."
Here it is, Hymn 342
(Forgive me for the fun with the
lyrics and mathematics - 3+4 2 ...
it happened on 7 Feb)
There really was one dark blot ... on
After taking off my sock to
scan this, one could say, I was literally ...
blessed out of my socks!
A vague thought emerged, after
scanning this. Did I not attend a Salvation Army
church service in chapter 8 - where I just came as I
was, sweating and wearing cycling pants?
But there was more, otherwise I may not
have bothered you with my dirty laundry. The time for the
church service was such that I just arrived home for the
second half of the BBC's long running religious TV program
'Songs of Praise'.
As soon as I heard Pam Rhodes talk about Billy
Graham and the Mission England Campaigns of the 1980's, I
thought immediately of 'my song'. Every evangelical Christian
of my era immediately links 'Just as I am' with Billy
Graham's hugely fruitful crusades. I knew this Episode of
Songs of Praise
would not be screened without playing this hymn. I hoped
it had not already been played.
my magic morning ended in listening to these three songs:
One day at a time, sung by George Hamilton, followed by
'Just as I am', concluding with a hymn that expresses just
how I felt: 'To God be the glory, great things HE has
Those on a journey with God regard even
the little cookies in life, as great things HE has done. I
notice little things around me constantly. I see God in
everything. This is what it means to walk with the Lord.
HE will show you in little things how interested HE is in
YOU, in the very minor details of all our lives. Even the
hairs of our head are numbered.
- - - - - - -
At this point, after celebrating a delayed birthday lunch, two hours after
having written the above about "Just as I am"
I tuned into Southern Star Radio (New Zealand).
I am listening to their lovely,
relaxing Christian music. Amazing, within minutes of
tuning into Southern Star I heard a male voice sing:
"Just as I am ..." Music
to my ears, tears in my eyes.
What a wonderful birthday
- - - - - - -
Before travelling to New Zealand a brief
update on the sad news about my imprisoned friend Peter Liddy. As
I write, he must be the loneliest man in the world. In
January 2010 his mother passed away. Mother and son had been very
close. They wrote letters to each other several times each week. How he
will miss those letters from his mother, who never gave up
Since my return I have again written (via
email) to the media about the case, with a copy to the
Attorney General. Months ago, after sending the 'weighty
piece of evidence' (Book 7, Chapter 26) to the new
Opposition Leader Isobel Redmond, I received this reply:
"Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.
An investigation is under way." I have learned
to take these short letters for what they are, short
letters, containing very little.
Sometimes the postage stamp of these
letters is more interesting than what comes out of the
envelope. Like this one I received on a letter from a
Member of Parliament in November 09.
Postage stamp: praying mantis
And it's for 55 cents. Don't you
Seven years ago, when I was much more
politically active, I had tried to draw attention to various
matters. Already back then, the reaction to my whistle
blowing was no different. It must be a standard trick of
politicians - just tell the informer, an investigation is
under way. This, so they think, makes the troublemaker go away.
Considering the damning evidence I
presented, in black and white, I really had hoped some
authority would wake up and take real action. But no (to the
best of my knowledge). It appears
corruption is not only being covered up, it is a booming
industry in South Australia.
On the day of writing our Adelaide's Sunday
Mail Newspaper (P.3) reports the surprise resignation of
District Court Judge Marie Shaw. The lady had rendered her
resignation for no specific reason. According to sources
(a phrase, which gives the writer a blank cheque to write
anything) her decision
revolved around 'job satisfaction'.
The author of the article, Nigel Hunt,
further reports that another prominent
Adelaide lawyer, Michael Abbot, QC (QC = Queens Council) had
made the same move some time earlier. He has joined forces
with Marie Shaw to form a new legal team in Adelaide. Nigel
Hunt further writes that defence lawyer David Edwardson QC
welcomes the move (e.g. Marie Shaw returning to the bar
The article briefly reviews Marie Shaws career. What Mr. Hunt failed to
report, perhaps because it was not one of Mrs. Shaw's
successes, that she was the defence lawyer for Peter
Liddy nearly ten years ago.
Nor does the Sunday Mail reporter mention that
QC Edwardson was the defence lawyer for Eugene McGee, who
together with his brother Craig is on trial for the alleged
hit-run accident in 2003.(Read on)
The public had never been made aware, to the
best of my knowledge, that Eugene McGee, right from the
beginning of his saga, was Peter Liddy's lawyer.
To me the resignation of Marie Shaw would
make sense, if she had witnessed the weighty piece of
evidence in favour of her client. It was not available in
the 2001 trial. Perhaps, she made
moves toward putting right that which clearly is a dark spot
on Adelaide's judges? Perhaps she now really believes that
her client Peter Liddy has been saying the
truth all along, that he is not guilty of any of the
Perhaps Mrs. Shaw believed it, after ... she
If only I could turn her and two Isobels* into
believers! One Isobel says there is an investigation under
way, but she didn't tell me what is being investigated.
water quality of the Murray?)
The other Isobel is so content with life,
she never investigates anything, but finds a one-word
explanation for everything, even the most bizarre twists. To
her it's all co-incidental.
One co-incident happened moments before writing this. It involves
*her name and that of 'de Jesus'. Flicking through the TV
channels I happened to land on the SBS Channel, which
broadcast the TVE Spanish News. Two names popped onto the
screen within seconds - a lady Isabel Carpio and and man
?... de Jesus.
It reminded me of a Carpi story, which I had heard on an
overnight talkback radio show. I thought I send it to the Spanish TVE international
network in an email:
and de Jesus
understand it, but could read two names on the screen,
here in Adelaide, via SBS Television.
If Isabel Carpio
inserted the o to make Isobel, she
becomes Isobel Carpi.
Did you know
what a lady once did? On her GPS in her car she wanted
to drive to Capri. By mistake she typed in Carpi.
Instead of arriving at the beautiful island near
Napoli, she ended up in Carpi near Bologna.
an important matter? Para el mundo - on your
website - sounds so nice, if only I knew
what it meant. I should learn Spanish and French
and Italian and Hebrew and ...
from Adelaide, Australia
wife's name is Isobel - only need to change alpha to
I had no idea what para el mundo meant. I had read it on
their open index-page, while typing my email. I recognized
para,- since we
live in Para Hills.
Out of curiosity I googled what para el mundo means.
It's means: for the world.
WOW - something out of Para
Hills - for the world? Love it.
- - - - - - -
On the front page of the same Sunday
Mail (7/2/10), is a photo and story of a lady, who had revealed
a sexual relationship with our Premier Mr. Rann. She now
had passed a
lie detector test and wanted the Premier to know the
outcome. He still denies
everything and says: Wait for the court case!
Makes me wonder, why he places his
hopes in the outcome of the court case? Wouldn't it be
better to put your trust in the truth? Lawyers and
judges may let you down, unless, perhaps ...? (I better
keep this thought to myself).
every time I read the name of that lady, a staff member,
who had worked in the Parliament Restaurant - Michelle
Her first name is that of my
daughter. The surname sounds like: See IT a NT
& LOIS. (An incredible 'Lois' story happened
on my last day in Christchurch - read it later).
- - - - - - -
The occasion for our family's travel to New
Zealand was the wedding of my daughter Michelle. She and her
husband Darin, born in Christchurch, finally had decided to do
the right thing: Tie the knot. Apart from my
wife and I, my mother-in-law and my three sons, two
accompanied by their partners, all travelled across the
Tasman Sea (separately). My wife, her mother and I flew in on January 5th.
The happy couple, who actually live
in Adelaide, had travelled 10 days earlier to make preparations. Both
met us at the airport and later took us to a BBQ in a
southern suburb of Christchurch. We met the groom's family
for the first time. It was also Michelle's 33rd birthday. It
was a low-key affair. The wedding four days later was on
During casual conversation between the two
grandmothers, who had also met for the first time, a spooky
fact emerged. It came out that both ladies had lost their husbands
within a day of each other. One on 24th March 1981, the
other only the day before.
- - - - - - -
Aerial view prior to landing in
Christchurch, Jan 5th 2010
Top: I took this photo from the
plane, not knowing that later I would cross this river
by bicycle, cycling between Sheffield and Methven. (It
certainly looks like the Rakaia Gorge).
Bottom: The morning after arriving
I took a ride on this bicycle. I had no particular
plan, but ended up here on the corner Salisbury /
Montreal / Victoria Streets. I picked up a lavender
coloured (discarded) CD and an empty V-drink
The three street names at this
corner are interesting. A real [t] man from Salisbury loves travelling to
Victoria. (I did 5 times in 09).
A moment after taking this photo an
ambulance raced by, sirens flashing.
The tower on the right shows the
Diamond Jubilee Tower. If the sky had come out a little
more blue, I would have commented on the colours - blue,
yellow, red. They are very appropriate, since
Christchurch is a sister city to Adelaide. (Hey, my bike
- - - - - - -
The next morning the first item on the
agenda was ... shopping. Since
we stayed in a self-contained apartment, we needed supplies
before anything. I dropped the ladies to the nearby shopping
centre (near Barrington Street). Women seem to thrive among
the shelves of supermarkets, while I have little
patience for shopping. I decided to go for a walk.
Totally unexpected, my 45 minutes jaunt filled
two pages in my diary. Studying the map, I wandered off,
through the cemetery to the river. I crossed a little
footbridge. At a residence, number 24, I turned back
and walked along the little river and turned into a long road called
It was a beautiful, mild summer's morning.
From some distance away I could see a bundle of papers had
been strewn all over the footpath, and was blowing onto the
roadway. My instinct
wanted to pick them all up, but at first I walked on. Why
should the tourist clean up their street?
Between the corner of Darley and Moana
Streets I had already picked up a piece of paper, a sheet from Princess
Cruises, addressed to a gentlemen named MUGFORD. I really didn't want any
more trash. When I saw the name of the street opposite, Rose
Street, I became weak. I turned back and picked up all the
It was a real estate magazine, which had
come apart and had been blown around a bit There was quite a
mess. But the bigger the mess, the
more satisfaction when you see it all cleaned up. Before discarding all
the papers into a nearby bin, my eyes fell on an address:
No. 518 ....Rd. The property for sale was in the suburb of
Brighton. Later, I took a ride to Brighton.
Car registration plates on that
first day in New Zealand bothered me somewhat. A parked
vehicle in a driveway made me think of number 96: MR VIC.
Even the plate of our hire car, a
Mazda Demio (IM DEO) smelled of 96, if you put 1 and 8
together ... 186.)
Picking up my ladies at the shopping
centre, I was walking past a TV monitor. I could hardly believe
my eyes - in the middle of the day a Christian TV program. I
could see a choir singing; the sound had been turned off. In the background was a
huge banner - 'Jesus is Risen'. Loved it.
From the little I had seen and heard in New
Zealand so far - Christian radio all
day and night, Christian TV in the middle of the day,
interesting car registration plates and
lots of trash on the road - what place had I come to - not
Talking of Christian TV, on the day
of writing, (Sunday 7/2) I rose again at 4 AM to
watch my programs. For the first time in weeks I was
following Dr. Michael Youssef's message, half-awake. He made mention of (I can't recall in
what context) ...a pedestrians getting bitten by a
dog on the side walk.
That's funny, I thought. Exactly 35 hours earlier I had been
walking along the narrow footpath on Prospect Road, Prospect.
I caught up
to man pushing a pram, and his little girl. She was holding
leash of their little Schnauzer. As I passed by the dog took a
leap toward my foot and bit me. The girl was too slow to pull him
back, despite her
father yelling at her.
The little ankle-biter gave me a
fright as he went for my white sock. (Did he see a black
spot on it and reacted?) It hurt enough to cause
pain for some time afterwards, but not enough to run to
a doctor or lawyer.
- - - - - - -
On Wednesday 6th January 10, our first full
day in New Zealand, the newspaper printed an alarming news
item. Alarming, if you were a cyclist in New Zealand. I had
planned to do some cycling there, but I ended up doing much more than
anticipated. The article on 6.1 in THE PRESS, was on page 3:
The Press, Wednesday 6/1 - Page
woman, 19, on a cycling holiday in New Zealand died
after a collision with a truck in Manawatu yesterday.
The accident happened just before noon on State Highway
3, 4km north of Bulls, Sergeant Marc Clausen of police
central communications said. The woman died at the
scene. The truck driver was not hurt.
Her name online is given as Mia Susanne
Pusch, 19, from Fulda. (I recall having read a
different name, also a German, female cyclist killed)
I noted the name Mia,
similar to AMI, the name of the main Christchurch
stadium I would be visiting later.
What do I make of the surname Pusch?
...killed while riding
a pushbike near Bulls near the Neuman (new man)
intersection in Man.aw.atu? Or the name of the sergeant:
CL AUS EN? Australia between CL and EN?
FULDA also has me worried. Removing L D
leaves AUF, which in German means up, off.
- - - - - - -
Friends, I can't help but think: How easy
would it be to create a fake identity, even start a
face-book page for some non-existent cyclist and report
anything about them - even their death! Maybe, I am again thinking too
far. But with the
McGee hit-run crash fresh in the news, I am still waiting
for answers to some very valid questions.
Stop Press: On the morning of
publishing this chapter I went into Adelaide's Samuel Way
building in Victoria Square and followed proceedings in
the McGee trial.
The two brothers Craig and Eugene are
charged with conspiring to cover up the alleged hit-run
death of cyclist Ian Humphries. I arrived at 10.35 AM, hot
and sweaty after cycling the 15 kilometres in extreme
heat. There were not many in the courtroom, considering
how one reporter had described it last year: the court
case of the decade! (Classic example of media hype).
A young lady, the prosecutor, was
questioning at great length a professor (of Psychology?)
She asked the expert about puny matters, obviously with
the aim of convincing the court that the two brothers set
our from the start to conceal the matter.
The trivialities of the matters this
female law expert kept harping on, led to nowhere. As she
asked question after question I thought how much all this
is costing, how much this woman is paid per hour to carry
on with this bulldust.
No doubt, if she were to challenge my
thinking, she would argue that her highest aim is justice.
This is why everybody was present in that court room this
(Maybe, even the former Member of
Parliament, a barrister and solicitor by profession, who
arrived just after me, and who promptly sat right beside
me. I was wearing a red shirt, made sense).
I couldn't get over the sensation, this
was just a show trial, just as the Kapunda Royal
Commission was, to demonstrate to the public how much
importance our system places on justice.
What about truth? During the break I asked
a grey-haired gentleman, what his interest was in the
case. He said he just wanted to see the two brothers
brought to justice. I said to him: "There is a lot
that the public does not know. Did you know," I
whispered in his ear, "that the dead cyclist was
working for the police communications (or police
He was surprised, when I said that. I
further told him that Mr. McGee used to be Mr. Liddy's
lawyer. He didn't know that either. Did you know, that the
main accuser of Peter Liddy, was a criminal with a long
criminal history? They brought him in from Queensland, out
of a jail, and promised him a lesser jail sentence, if he
testified against Peter. He didn't know that either.
He started to become uncomfortable, after
I said plainly: "The problem is not so much the
courts, it's the police investigations, which were not
carried out properly. I think drugs (note the word)
that's what's behind it all; and police corruption. Maybe
the whole hit-and-run was staged?
Hearing that he excused himself and made a
bee-line to ...
I didn't return to the court room. On my
way out I briefly faced Eugene McGee. I didn't know what
to say to him, so I told him just that. When I asked if
his mother was in the courtroom he said she had passed
away. I told him Mrs. Liddy also had passed away.
I jumped on my GIANT to cycle home.
Adelaide's heat, coupled with high humidity, felt very
uncomfortable. But I loved my ride home, which I took via
Prospect Road, the same road where a dog bit me on Friday
A strange thought-pattern, a chain of
related thoughts developed. It lead to the word drugs. It
all started not far from the corner Regency Road. A group
of business people were standing outside a photo-copier
shop. Immediately, my brain went back about five years to
the time when I had photo-copiers.com registered as a
website address. When I sold it I made a bit of money out
This took my thoughts to the story of the
lucky fellow, who in the early days of the internet saw
that nobody had registered drugs.com. He did. His $ 75 or
whatever he paid for it turned into nearly 1 Million
Dollars, paid by the drugs company Pfizer.
With these thoughts, turning my pedals, I
passed a Chemist in Kilburn. I can't say which I saw
first, the police car parked right outside, or the sign
Chemist. In a nano-second my brain registered Chemist -
drugs - police...drugs ...
I really wanted to cycle on home. It was
hot. But I was curious and didn't want to miss anything.
The next side road was Le Hunte Street. I turned around to
check out the police car. The registration plate 254 at
first meant nothing. Then - 25 X 4 = (you) C?
It did not end there. Behind the police
car was another registration plate - 944. Do you see it
now? 1044 - April 14th - at Angaston. (Book 3, Chapter 3).
I continued toward home on my GIANT.
- - - - - - -
The LD in the heading of this, Book 8, has already
brought some surprises. An LD surprise came in New Zealand
on the first Sunday I went to church there. The road from
our apartment to the Linwood church took me via ALDWINS
Road. The Minister's name was Allwright.
Is this another LD clue?. Take a look at this
Did the artist mean to highlight the letters LD?
LD - is a significant
combination, 50 500. (Love IT = SHS).
In Luke Chapter 7, Verse 41 Jesus
begins a story with these two numbers: "There
was a certain creditor, who had two debtors. One owed
fivehundred dinarii, and the other fifty."
Jesus in telling this story tries to convey
that one who has been forgiven much, loves much. More so
than one, who is less aware of his sin,
who considers themself having lived a good life. This
person may feel less passionate about the need for forgiveness.
Ken Cooper, the face behind the LD, appreciated
God's forgiveness very much. He not only had to thank
God for forgiving his bank robberies, he also was
forgiven 30 years sitting in jail. Ken loves very much. It shows.
(His story is in Chapter 1).
- - - - - - -
(Back to New Zealand)
While my mother-in-law and wife were
sleeping in, I took my bicycle to Brighton, Christchurch's
seaside suburb. It was a cool, cloudy day, but no rain.
Quite unexpectedly, at Buckley Street I came across a large
shopping centre. Considering that exactly a week earlier I
had published a Chapter, titled The Eastern Gate, you may
understand my amusement, having by accident discovered THE EAST GATE shopping
I could take this further and deduct East
Eastern Gate to arrive at ER N, but there is Buckley's
chance .... Another name, this time a restaurant at
Brighton, took my fancy - SALT on the PIER.
On the way I had
stopped at a Thursday open-air market on Pages Road. I
couldn't resist a bargain - a perfectly good, red-and-white
striped umbrella for 2 Dollars NZ. You don't buy a coffee
for that, and a coffee you can't keep as a souvenir.
I had not forgotten to check out the address
(No. 518) at Brighton, the property I had seen for sale in
the papers I had collected. Surprisingly, there was no For
Sale sign posted outside. Why on earth was I here for? Was there a clue I was meant to see?
Opposite, as if trying to hide, I noticed a 4 WD vehicle
parked behind some bushes. There
were people sitting inside. Why they were there, I did
not know. I did not care. There was nothing illegal
about looking at a house, through the open gate into the front
Artwork inside front yard - couple
Had I come to the right
place? Just in case, I took this photo:
On the front lawn outside the house I saw
some trash. I picked it up for the diary later. It was an
ice-cream wrapper or something similar.
letters I read: See a L Star.
Sounds OK, but...
... I must not get too carried away with
my letter-ology. In my inbox, the day before writing,
came a circular email. A very clever brain had put
together some anagrams (letters re-arranged to create
Here are the most amazing ones:
- MOON STARER
EYES - THEY SEE
MACHINES - CASH
LOST IN ME
RESULTS - LIES LET'S RECOUNT
DECIMAL POINT -
A DOT IN PLACE
and my favourite
PLUS TWO - TWELVE
- - - - - -
It was Friday 8/1, the day
before the wedding. I was cycling round town early in the morning
to check out some pipes I had seen stored in Montreal
Street. There were 4 yellow pipes, secured by 8 orange traffic
That morning, after seeing
a poster on an advertising cylinder, I began contemplating an extended stay in
Christchurch until Jan 30th. I had known that my Adelaide
football team was
playing in New Zealand, but it only really sunk in, that it
was actually playing in Christchurch against Wellington.
I took a photo of the
pipes and a registration plate beside them. This is what I
Bottom right: Pipes
in Montreal Street. The registration
plate 3615 are my date
of birth (30.1.50) plus a 6. My 60th was coming up.
opposite the pipes was house number 305. The
letterbox only shows 05.
Add 305 and 5 = 310 or deduct
05 from 315 = 310.
noticed after scanning: Take 3615 and add the date of my
birthday 301 = 3916).
Top right: Poster in Manchester
Street, advertising the big match on my birthday. A red
bus passes Red's player, pin-up boy Scott Jamieson.
Would I spent
my 60th birthday in Christchurch? Something inside me
said: "I AM", when I noticed the name of the venue
of the football match - AMI
- - - - - - -
9th January was the big day, when
my daughter Michelle married her partner Darin at the
Clearwater Golf Resort, Belfast, about 15 minutes from
Christchurch. It was wonderful to meet our new relatives for
the first time, and friends, some who had especially flown
in from Sydney, Queensland and other parts of New Zealand..
I met my daughter and the
bridesmaids at the flat in Linwood, where they were staying.
good friend of the bridegroom, who had also flown in from
Adelaide, was the chauffeur. Until then I had mainly my
speech on my mind, when it gradually dawned on me, I
would have to walk down the isle, arm in arm with my
daughter. I felt a sense of pride, the right kind, and
enjoyed the experience, all two minutes of it.
Both the ceremony,
conducted by a marriage celebrant, and the reception were at
the same venue. It was the choice of the groom, who wanted
to get married in his hometown. Looking back, I am glad he
did. Otherwise my wife and I would probably not have visited
this beautiful country. Neither would I have had all the fun
that was waiting for me.
Resort, Christchurch, New Zealand, January 9th 2010 -
Wedding of Darin and Michelle.
my pretty daughter, leaving Linwood for the big
occasion. The apartment block was called Harmony, (please note).
(left) flew in from Canada, just for the wedding. Kathy,
from Adelaide, has been a close friend since their
University days. (Photo:
Rick are close friends of the groom. (Photo:
A brave woman and a
In the background
the picturesque lake and golf course of Clearwater
On the morning after scanning
these photos, on 9/2/10, the BBC London broadcast a
brief item regarding public speaking. In the
introduction the presenter said: "We all have at some time or other give a speech in public. Be
it at a family wedding ..."
Well, I had done just that exactly one
month earlier. Even though I had had some training at the
public speaking club Toastmasters, I was still a little
nervous. I applied some principles, I had learned: speak with
a loud voice, clearly; structure major points; reading notes
are OK, but never read the speech; keep it interesting, make a
point in concluding. My point was - harmony.
Some years earlier I had written a little
poem, based on a true story. A couple was driving overnight
from Adelaide to Melbourne. The wife was asleep and had not
known that her husband had made a U-Turn to refuel. He felt
tired, so she took to the wheel, promptly driving almost all
the way back to Adelaide. The last line of my poem, which
concluded my wedding speech, was some simple advise for living
together, in harmony.
It goes to show, that silence, arguments,
struggle and strife,
Create a barrier between people, not just
a husband and wife.
Learn to respect, to forgive, speak your
mind from the heart,
You both move forward, not finish right
back at the start.
(Reading my poem*,
another little twist. One verse concludes with this
phrase: "...we women are brave." Just what I
called my daughter in the picture above).
text at *Two
Talking to some wedding guests during
the evening, made me realize that now we did know some people
in Christchurch. We had relatives living there. The bride-grooms father runs a
50 kilometers from Christchurch - breeding, breaking in and training horses for racing.
I suddenly saw an
opportunity to stay back for the football match, and make
myself useful at the same time. It worked out perfectly.
- - - - - -
day after the wedding, on Sunday January 10 / 10 the weather
looked a little wet. It rained. Maybe in church they should
not have sung the song: Holy Spirit rain down. But they
did at the Linwood church I went to. Just as I was getting on
my bike to ride home, via Aldwins Road, it started to rain.
morning, because of the wet, I didn't ride, but took an early
morning walk instead. Had I cycled I would have missed a
little 10 / 10 magic, shown here on this billboard:
on Opawa Road, opposite Mary McLean Pl.
he can do it so can you.
Mitre 10 hardware stores have as slogan - Mitre 10, 10 I 10.
only time I took a morning walk was on Jan. 10th, or
10.I.10. I thought to include this item, because the day
of writing is 10.2.10.
the footpath in Opawa Road I noticed firstly a white piece
of paper, neatly cut into a P. Next, the sole of a shoe,
pointing across the road directly to the above
price tag from the scene is also glued into my diary: $
21.99 for C L/L Knit Short, Navy.
21+99 I created 120 - or 2 10. (Hey, that's today's date)
I ever wrote a daily bible study, it would not be called
Our Daily Bread. How about 'Our Daily Date' or 'Dating
Jesus every day' ?
Mitre 10 NZ slogan should only be applied in two contexts
- If you insist on painting your house with a roller,
wearing only underpants, or if you are a follower of
Jesus, who said:
tell you, anyone who has faith will be doing what I have
been doing. He will do even greater things than these,
because I am going to the Father". (John 14, 12 NIV).
In short - If he can do it, so can you.
- - - - - -
travelled this great distance, my wife, mother-in-law and I
took the opportunity to tour around the South Island, before
and after the wedding. We had the hired Demio for
the whole of our 11-day stay. We chose a sunny, but cold day
to drive the 77 kilometers to Akaroa, a historic
French-flavoured tourist village. Many streets have French
The road to Akaroa, which leads to
nowhere else, took us approx. 1 1/2 hours. In parts it is windy and steep. The scenery is unlike I had ever
seen. Just before the town, climbing over a hill, aptly named
Hilltop, the view of the deep blue harbour and the green hills
around it was just like in the postcards. I should have followed my intuition and filled up
the car in
Christchurch before leaving. Luckily there was a Shell Service Station at
During a brief walk on my own - when
you travel with wife and mother-in-law, you need these to
keep sane - I took a look at the war memorial in Akaroa. It's
a square, grey-brick structure with writing on the sides.
Each side had something inspirational about those who died in war.
I walked right around and read the last inscription: They
loved duty more than they feared death.
Only a few metres away came a rather
sombre, visual reminder of death - a dead bird together with
a branch of a palm tree, and the nest that fell down with
it. For a moment I was surprised. It looked like it had been
there for some time, right by the war memorial, but nobody
bothered to remove it. Neither did I. (Mother-in-law may
have seen me, and I fear her more than death ... just
an easy, but spectacular drive away from Christchurch. The
town is situated on the bay in the centre of the picture
on the right.
Just noticed this
little twist: Minutes before editing this section, I
delivered our Neighbourhood Watch Newsletter (Para Hills
504) for distribution. In the quiz I had asked this
question: What does Para mean? Answer: Little River (in
above picture, just before Akaroa.)
During mid-summer, with clear skies,
daylight in Christchurch lasts until very late, even ten o'clock. This gave me the opportunity for
evening exploration tours on
my Firenze, the Italian name for Florence, the brand name of the bicycle I had
been supplied with.
Another bemusing little twist: The gentlemen, who we rented our
apartment from, who kindly lend me the bicycle, was a Mr. Read. To reach Mr. Read's
house the shortest route from Christchurch was via
Wordsworth and Shakespeare Streets.
Walking around the centre
of Christchurch, the city which has been described as the
most English city outside England, you inevitably find
Cathedral Square. It's were everything happens, the open-air
preaching, the daily markets, the entertaining buskers and the
tourists, who just sit and soak it all up, while sipping a
coffee at Starbucks.
One evening I took of
those strolls around the square, taking in the atmosphere.
On the ground in the middle of the open space, I spotted a
small piece of paper, half the size of a postage stamp. Obviously it had been the price tag for an item
sold in the markets, which had long been cleared away. The
stick on price tag was for $ 27.
Looking a little more
carefully at the location, where I had picked up the 27 I
saw that it was right between two buildings. Starbucks was on one
end of the square, the CAMELOT (Lover of truth came) Hotel on
Friends, take this as you
will, I write it as it was, without bias or whitewash. One
morning, after I had broken the news to my wife that I wanted
to stay on and celebrate my birthday in Christchurch, I went into the city to enquire how
much the change of flight would cost.
I first dropped my two ladies to
do their shopping, parked the hire-car and walked downtown,
hoping to find a Flight Centre. I could have looked up an
address, but I knew, sooner or later, I would see one of
the familiar red signs.
As I was walking through Shades Arcade, I prayed
this thought: Lord help me to find a Flight Centre and don't
make it too easy to change flights, if you don't want me to.
Less than five seconds later, as I exited the arcade,
reaching Christchurch's main pedestrian shopping mall, I saw
the familiar red sign of a Flight Centre right there.
Reflecting on it, I hadn't
been desperate. My
prayer wasn't about a passionate subject, on which my whole
future would depend on. Yet, God placed the thought into my
mind, just at that time, to make HIS presence felt, to tell
us how He loves walking with us, guiding gently. HE is a
(Shades arcade bring to
mind a verse in the psalms: ... the Lord is your shade
at your right hand. (Psalm 121, 5).
that many believers only pray when they desperately want
something from their Heavenly Father, rather than letting HIM be part of,
and guide them through their
Changing my flight cost an
extra NZ $ 120. Two Dollars for every year of my life - not
an expensive birthday present. I had determined, if it were
more than two hundred Dollars I would not have gone ahead
with the change of plan.
Canterbury, New Zealand - January 2010.
and her mother, relaxing in the famous
Botanical Gardens. For her age, 88 years, Mrs.
Newton is doing rather well undertaking such a long
Christchurch is a Mecca for visitors from around the world.
This couple finds relaxation on a gondola on the Avon River,
which winds its way gently through this city.
looking toward the Canterbury Museum; the Arts
Centre on the left. It's early morning, otherwise
the place is filled with tourists, who catch the
tram from there to Cathedral Square.
On the far left an
advertising cylinder. Germans call it
Litfa-saeule. There are still many in
After a great week, having
enjoyed a beautiful city, seeing our daughter getting
married, it was time to leave and to travel south. We had
booked another apartment in Queenstown, a five-hour drive
through the southern Canterbury region into Otago.
I love driving, even great
distances. In recent years, however, the joy of motoring has
somewhat been spoiled by the fear of
being caught speeding, unawares. During the 2000 kilometers
we travelled in the Demio the fear of a speeding fine was
even more acute. The contract by the hire company stated an
extra administration fee was payable, if a traffic fine had
to be dealt with.
I am not one for speeding.
Likewise, the vast majority
of mature drivers wants to stick to the speed limit. But
sometimes, in Australia and New Zealand, these limits are not
posted clearly, or they are unreasonable. Especially in towns
and cities, where it could be 50, 60, 70 or 80 I had to ask my
wife often: "What's the speed limit here?"
Thinking logically, some roads are
built to comfortably drive at 130 km/h or even higher. Even
the most basic 4-cylinder car is engineered to ride
comfortably at that speed, or far higher. Why on earth go into all
that trouble, then not allow mature motorists the freedom to
enjoy it - if need be at 130 km/h?
I know the answer. It's
two fold. One, Governments can't make a law that one must
act maturely, when driving a motor car; neither can they
legislate against stupidity.
Two, governments love the
money they rake in, millions each year. To simply install a
$ 50 000 camera and reap that same amount from it every month for
doing very little, is like having your own ATM (automatic
teller machine) on your kitchen wall.
The rules and regulations
that spoil my motoring have nothing to do with road safety.
The main game is revenue
raising. To receive a huge fine after accidentally driving
a few kilometers over the speed limit, because the driver
genuinely was unaware what
limit applies, does nothing for road safety. It only turns an otherwise responsible,
mature motorist into an angry one.
The road safety idea I
had years ago, painting every 10th white line in the centre
of the road a different colour (as a reminder to motorist
what limit applies on that section of road) has fallen on
deaf ears. Fewer drivers would be caught out, less money for
This confirms, without
a doubt - the main game is not road safety, it's money
Lately I've been
thinking: Am I getting really fit, or more paranoid about
speed limits? Even when on the bike I hear myself asking:
"What's the speed limit here?
- - - - - - -
Soon after leaving
Christchurch on National Highway 1, the skies brightened. We
ate a sandwich in a sunny spot in the town of Geraldine. There
was time for a brief look through the small, free entry
museum. Leaving Highway 1 we turned toward the alpine country,
tall snow capped mountains, towering above huge lakes,
bordered by extensive forests. Not to forget the sheep, sheep
and more sheep.
We stopped and took a photo at the
famous Church of the Good Shepherd, beautifully situated on the shore of Lake
The window above the altar overlooks the lake with Mount
Cook towering at the far
end. It's probably the most photographed church in New
Zealand. In the Maori
language Mount Cook is called Aoraki (Cloud piercer). It
rises 3754 m above sea level.
photographed church, Good Shepherd Church, Lake
Tekapo. Well fitting scripture, looking toward Mount
will lift up mine eyes unto the hills' is
the first line of Psalm 121. The day before writing
I attended a funeral. The Minister read this psalm
in his introduction.
most important buildings from the old gold-miners'
settlement, Cromwell, founded in the 1860s,
have been re-erected as Old Cromwell Historic
Village in Melmore Terrace. Entry to this little gem
horse on the right is not real, but made of
concrete. The ladies on the left are real. I know
the two ladies are real. They watched my driving,
constantly reminding me of the speed limit. At those
times I would have preferred the concrete horse in the car
After having sat in a
motor car for several hours, arriving in Cromwell, my natural urge was for some
vigorous walking. I took one of those strange walks. My
diary specifically mentions what I was thinking: Often on these occasions,
just going for a walk, something magical happens,
without expecting it. What if I did really expect something?
Would nothing take place then?
All I knew is that many
times God lead me to the most unusual places, doing most
unusual things. I don't class myself a robot, but at the
same time I know that God can and does lead
his followers, as if by remote control, using HIS Holy
Spirit as driver.
My walk in Cromwell took
about 20 minutes. I liked Cromwell. The name starts with C and
ends well. IT came in Molyneux
Street. (A close friend in Adelaide has this surname).
Looking on the ground I saw a twig in the shape of a C. Had
it been any other shape I would taken no notice. I picked it
up and looked around. Was this a clue? Did I need to see
Right across the road was a real estate for sale sign. I
continued my walk, but made a point of checking the sign out
on my way back. Two young people were walking by, watching me
take this photo:
Real Estate For Sale
in Cromwell (House No. 47)
I created a piece of
art, A LIST ART.
In the chapter
The Eastern Gate I had only 12 days earlier written
"Until looking at this ULP number I
never saw 2 1s and 2 5s make 5 to 12."
When I saw the
blank space behind ID#, and 11 55 right above it, I placed the little twig
I had carried under the sign, and
took the picture.
Here is a
suggested slogan which would fit Cromwell very well:
C L, C well
- See Cromwell.
I'm glad we
But there was more: In the
driveway beside this address were two motorcars, side by
side. The two registration plates were: LG
5710 and LM 5995.
I wasn't looking for
anything, but 95 minus 10 made 85 in a nanosecond. Would 85 lead to 185?
It did. 5995 - 5710 = 285.
My little twig C (-100) squared it all up (no, down).
But wait. Earlier in this
chapter, on my first morning in Christchurch I had had
fun with real estate for sale. Remember, the statue of a couple
embracing was in the driveway). The address was 518.
Remember 185 was also the
number associated with the unusual story surrounding the
Playing the letter
elimination game (the L's cancel each other out) the
registration plates above (LG LM) result in MG.
MAGIC? Remove the letters
MG = C AI.
Let me finish this chapter
with an email I sent only hours ago to the German TV Program
Journal (DW TV). I had watched it on the day of writing
(9/2/10) for the first time this year, because I had been
away and the timeslot had changed.
One item in the journal
that morning really brought home the
madness that exists in our world - the huge gap between rich
and poor. It was reported that two
billionaires were spending huge sums of money (one invested
500 million Euros), building a hi-tech yacht to win the America's Cup
mind boggles as to how much money this is; more so, how much
good it could do in the world.
I expressed this thought
in the email I sent in English: (In the PS is a little
riddle, a simple one, which fits Chapter 10 perfectly).
to Deutsche Welle TV Journal, Date 9/2/10:
against hard work, which results in success and wealth.
But to spent it on a *selfisch endeavour to win a trophy
in yachting, is madness.
only a fraction of the money spent on yacht racing,
motorsport and other selfish ambitions were channeled
into providing fresh water in every African village - it
would make a good start to make the world a better
after the egos of ambitious, selfish men has been
satisfied, the cries for food and water, for justice,
will still be heard.
On a lighter note, a riddle: How did 10 become
the sensation of the saison?
the spelling error was unintentional. I only just saw it
on editing. The people of Cromwell will love it).
the German word for season. The newsreader on DW TV had mixed up
the two words sensation and saison. Sensation is German. It
also means sensation.
I seldom use two words in the English language: absolutely and
sensational. But what God has done, and is doing in the world
every day, is absolutely sensational.
be the glory, great things HE has done ..." Let's give HIM
ten out of ten.