So I'm in my little conservatory in one of the Eichardt's Hotel cottages, sitting on the cane sofa with the squashy cushions, feet up with the Sunday paper, a G&T and some - frankly - inferior crisps (bought from the liquor store, before I discovered the English Lolly Shop round the corner, which sells WALKERS) with the sliding doors open onto my terrace, the narrow road beyond, then the lawn by the War Memorial Gate, then the pebbly beach and the lake with little waves breaking - maybe 30 metres from where I'm sprawled. There are people walking past from time to time, but that's ok because if they look my way, it's with envy. And now the dear old TSS Earnslaw has just returned from its trip to Walter Peak Station across the lake to collect its sunset cruise passengers. All's well with the world.
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