We post up some ads for Pearl and wait for the calls to flod in. And wait. I know every man and his dog us trying to sell their car here, but Pearl is great! Surely everyone can see that! Apparently not. Geoff (and I actually ) are getting a trifle twitchy after two days of nothing. We visit the botanical gardens and the huge plaground as well as the remains of the old cathedral and the new ‘cardboard cathedral’. Personally, though I didn’t mention it to anyone, I thought the cardboard one was much better! Light and airy, with bright, beautiful windows and light, welcoming colours inside. This God chappy,  if he (or she for that matter) happens to be around, would be well pleased with this new, lightfilled offering. So, after listening to a spot of yodelling inside, we head back to the playground to twitch a bit more. Geoff phones a couple of ‘butyourcarforcash’ places. They inform him, in sorrowful, apologetic voices that that car like that would be hard to give away, but they could take it as a personal favour. Geoff is pacing up and down now. He’s become quite fond of Pearl. We decide to slash the price. This results in one call. We hotfoot it back to one of the hostels to show this chap the car. He seemed a little surprised that my name wasn’t gingercarotte on the phone, and came towards me clutching our ad. I reintroduced myself, and he took a cautionary step back, pointing at the ad.  ‘But it says gingercarotte here’ he says. I agree that it does indeed, but that that is my e-mail, and looking at the ad I laugh heartily and explain that I have forgotten to put my name on it. This does not appear to reassure him. ‘ oh yea? ‘ he says. This does not sound as hardbitten as it does with the English accent. It is softer with the new Zealand slant, but he edges away non the less. I slide into the sideline and Geoff takes over. The chap seems much more at ease with now, and shuffles around the car saying ‘oh yea?’ At intervals. We hang around the hostel, crisping up nicely in the midday heat while pearl is taken on a test drive. An age passes and pearl reappears looking a bit green round the gills. Geoff totters out. An indifferent driver it would seem! A longish saga follows involving the following: interest show (though we all agreed he played his cards close to his chest. Main vocabulary being ‘oh yea?’) He gave us his driving license as security and agreed to come to the campsite for a second look. However, upon our return to the campsite we found he had left our contact details in the car. Geoff leaves them at reception at the hostel and we wait. No sign next morning at 9. We hang around until 11.30, by which time we are all twitchy as no one else seems to be jumping about in excitement to buy pearl….we head off to look for the chappy.  He’s gone out. Get back to campsite to find a note saying he overslept and will come this evening. The long story wears on, but it concludes in a trip to the bank (which involved the chap having temporarily lost his card and the cash machine breaking down, all of this doing a power of good to Geoffs nerves). We celebrate, after a sad goodbye with huge ice creams and a yummy feast each. R had roast,  G had teriyaki, I had rahman and E had mac!  And so ends our New Zealand adventure.