My friend Sophie invited a group of friends have a spring craft retreat at her parent’s house in Diamond Harbour. This was great news, because I had been dreaming of using a rigid heddle to weave a mandolin strap with a backstrap loom, but procrastinating because I knew it would take ages to warp. Here was my opportunity! It was also great news because it was in Diamond Harbour, the beautiful little village where we celebrated our wedding, and because sparkling spring weather had started and I could bike there.

I thought I could bike by the long route, over Gebbies Pass, but I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to. I mentioned it to several people until I felt like it would be cowardly to go the shorter route so I simply had to commit. For the first time since returning from India, Turkiye and China, I filled up my frame bag with some snacks (Nigella’s muesli slice, very good), attached my handlebar rack and filled up my panniers.

It seemed improbable that I needed so many things for an overnight trip where I wasn’t even camping. Of course, that was because one pannier contained a mostly finished handspun jumper, a dinosaur colourwork cowl (intended for biking on chilly days), lots of sticks I’d whittled for the backstrap loom, two heddles I had laser cut at the library, the book with loom instructions, a notebook for diagramming the weaving pattern, and lots of types of string. “I bet no-one else is carrying handmade weaving equipment,” I told myself, as I was repeatedly overtaken on Dyers Pass. Shreyas had disappeared into the distance because the gearing on his road bike didn’t allow him to go at my speed.

At the Sign of the Kiwi, we turned right. There’s almost no traffic on this section of the Summit Road, and we admired the mountains and plotted Banks Peninsula low carbon adventures. On the list:

• Biking over Gebbies and down to Old Taitapu Road and Lincoln (apparently there is a good cafe)
• Camping on Ōtamahua (could we borrow kayaks for this?)
• The much-vaunted historical churches bike tour of Banks Peninsula (a job for this week is plotting this potential route)
• Biking to Gebbies, locking our bikes up, and running or walking to Sign of the Packhorse
• Using some free Gondola tickets I was given, getting the gondola, walking down the Bridle Path and having dinner in a nice restaurant in Lyttelton.

We stopped at Sign of the Bellbird to read some signs, jump on some stone fences, put some more warm layers on for the wind and eat some muesli slice. Then Shreyas turned home and me and my craft-filled panniers headed onwards.

There are some sweet little climbs on the way to Church Bay. Conveniently, I was cycling around the harbour exactly on high tide. In Charteris Bay, I saw a little beach, and the sun politely came out from behind a cloud. If that’s not a sign to swim I don’t know what is! I pulled out my convenient bikepacking skirt to get changed under and went for a brief swim, then ate two Fruitbursts until my feet were dry enough to brush the sand off.

Once unexpected bonus of getting married, which I didn’t consider at all at the time, is that it invests a particular place with a sweet nostalgia of happy memories of being loved and loving. All the spring flowers in Diamond Harbour really affirmed that. I paused near the hall where we had our reception to send some low-carbon adventure zines at the post box (why not go on a low-carbon adventure for mail delivery!?) and got to Sophie’s.

The weekend was lovely: lots of progress was made on the strap, I saw Rachel’s birthday card envelope process (inspiring), Laura’s watercolour mountains, Halee’s exquisite spinning, Rose’s dogged swatch efforts (one day soon we will have matching vests), Sophie’s incredible cabled vest (and her complaints about a particular yarn store employee with BAD ADVICE), Haley’s crochet blanket, we ate lots of bread and cheese and talked about skiing, we jumped into the harbour again and then stayed up late talking even more. What a miraculous gift it is, to be friends with all of these people, to live in this place. I am so privileged and so lucky.

After more knitting, bread, cheese, croissants, juice etc., we went home. I wheeled my bike down to the ferry with Rose and Sophie and I was almost tempted to get the bus home with them. But Evans Pass is a lovely gradient to bike up, and I knew that I would be sitting down all week. It was cold and windy and the weaving equipment was, indeed, weighing me down. More men at least double my age zoomed past, as did two huge petrol tankers heading for the port. But the waves were frothing at Sumner and I felt strong and happy. On the busiest section, where all the hot tub show rooms are, a bikepacker was going in the other direction. He saw my set-up and we exchanged a nod of mutual respect.

And then the weekend was over! I unpacked the remaining food and showed Shreyas how much strap had been woven. In return, he showed me the tool wall he had been working on with Rachel’s husband Rob. The boys deserve a projects weekend too! I continue to feel so amazed at how much there is to do in our backyard, and how bikes and ferries and buses can get me there.