In 1957, my brother Richard and I travelled on our 59cc NSU mopeds from our home in Wimbledon to central France to spend our summer digging in the cave of Arcy-sur-Cure.
Last weekend, after some intense strategic planning as part of my day job, I finally managed an entire night under the stars at my new observing site out in Middlemarch.
We spent this weekend up a ladder cutting the hedges at Pūrākaunui. They had grown huge, lumbering, pushing over the smaller trees in front of them, forcing them to bow in subjugation.