the tash groweth

Well well. Its seems that my stories of amusing people and drunken moments in New Zealand are not enough. Since sending you pictures of my tash, I've been inundated with requests for updates. Well, I say inundated, Sean, Sue and Jon seemed interested. So I enclose updates. As you can tell, the handlebars are now in almost full blossom and getting quite a lot of attention. Mostly by men dressed in Indian outfits, builders, policemen or anyone else in the Village People.

Not to be outdone however, Gareth decided it was time he joined in on the Facial Hair Tour 2006 and sported this magnificent effort I have also attached. He was twice approached to join the elite band of Muskateers. Embarassment got the better of him, however and the offence was removed just a day later.

All else is tres bien as they may say in Namibia. I'm not sure of this, and feel I should probably look into it some more as I've just been offered a two year posting there!! Woo hoo. From what I can gather from your last emails, nobody really knows much about it except the capital (thanks Nick, can always rely on capital knowledge - Lesotho?) and that its Weirdly beautiful. NOt entirely sure what that means, but sounds like my kind of thing.

Still considering my options for things to do until then and this can be the subject of any replies - suggestions of things to do over the next few months. I've heard that after a few troubled months, George Michael may be on the lookout for a look-a-like, and I feel I may be an obvious frontrunner for the post at the moment.

Auf wiedersein

Don't go to Invercargill. And don't tempt fate. Ever.

Throughout our travels in New Zealand, whether or not to go to a town called Invercargill, in the far South of New Zealand, has been the source of much debate. It shouldn't have been, of course, nobody we have met thusfar has had anything remotely nice to say about it. But in a perverse sort of way, that just made the pull even stronger - to see whether a place can actually be that bad.

It is. But thats ok, we were just passing through, stayed for about an hour and left sighing a breath of relief as we drove away. Or so we thought...

And this brings me to my second part of the sermon. If you do find yourself unfortunately in Invercargill, say nothing until you get to your next place. Phrases such as "My car is driving about as well as it has since I bought it" (Gareth) and "I hope I never go back to that place ever again" (Me) are only going to wind up the demons of fate. And so it was that our car spectacularly sh*t itself (sorry mum) and we were towed back to, yes you've guessed it, Invercargill.

It not all that bad though. As the place provides no entertainment, we had to find some of our own. I draw your attention now to attached photograph which I've entitled "Ant with a handlebar moustache and 80's sunglasses when you have nothing else to do in Invercargill". If you look closely through the window you'll see "Southern Shearing" which is actually the proposed main attraction here. I kid you not.

I've actually grown quite fond of my new facial growth and may keep it for a while. In fact I had breakfast with a pleasant Canadian chap this morning who sported the BIGGEST beard ever, which you just couldn't keep your eyes off. We were blatently both staring at each other thinking "what the hell's going on with his facial hair?"

And in other news. New Zealand is still good. Penguins, rugby matches, walking (tramping as its known here) and other fun things like that. And I have applied to go to Namibia in September.

Request this week therefore are funny facial hair stories, or anyone who knows anything about Namibia. Thank you