North by Northeast

I should have written my article while in Seacliff. Although it was only a few days ago, it's difficult - from here in noisy North Dunedin- to recall the stillness, the seaside scent, the sunlit leaves of chestnut trees (are they of the edible variety?).

When I talk to my parents on the phone, they'll ask the following two questions, every time: First: "Have you been keeping up with your studies?"

The road into Seacliff is skinnier than the footpath along Tamaki Dr, and certainly narrower than a single lane of a main street in Invercargill.

To contextualise this column, perhaps you should be aware that I'm writing while dressed in a rabbit costume. As I write, I'm picking away at a large chocolate egg.

I loathe the George-Frederick-Pitt-London Sts intersection. You know the one?

I've spent the evening hoping I'll think of a better topic than pens. No, that's not entirely true. Pens are intrinsic to student life, and they deserve to be mentioned.

As I sit to write this column, I'm very aware that the current relationship between university students and the Dunedin public may be in a delicate state.

Things to do: 1) PACK FOR DUNEDIN: The predictable essentials: Clothes, shoes, toiletries. How much clothing? How many pairs of shoes? Which coloured face-cloth? Oh, year after year, such questions plague me.

According to Aristotle (and others), humans are creatures of habit.

The fantastic thing about writing is that it can be done from almost anywhere. Last fortnight my article was produced in a bach in Kaiteriteri; today it is born in the Hanmer Public Library.