Dear Diary,

I don't have a great relationship with time. Organizing things in time is not my strong point. But when I first touted this trip to my Mum and Stepdad, Murray, over a year ago they seemed keen to join in. Not so much for the cricket but more because they live in Cairns in north Queensland and "It's stinking hot up here at that time of year and we'd like to explore New Zealand where it will be cooler."

Plans were hatched, loose itineraries made and tightened up and I kept them informed of every movement and flight times every time I added a new one keeping everything in line so as to avoid any misapprehensions over time, times, or timing.

So it came as a bit of a surprise to me when, two days before I was due to arrive in Christchurch at 5am (in the morning) a casual email exchange with Mum indicated that she thought I was due to get in at 5pm. (sigh). I resend her the itinerary again highlighting that I leave Melbourne at midnight and arrive Christchurch 5am (in the morning).

I receive a reply the next day saying that they won't pick me up at the airport after all (too early even for those early risers) but it becomes clear that she thinks I'm leaving Melbourne at 11:55 on the 12th of Feb and arriving in Christchurch at 5am on the 12th of Feb.

well, at least I know where I get my bad relationship with time from!

A day of dehydration illness sees me unable to reply in plenty of time and I board the flight I'm still unsure if my Mum even realises that I will actually be arriving at 5am (in the morning) on Friday the 13th.

Upon landing in Christchurch I get a taxi to the hotel and find Mum awake and pleased to finally see me. She explains they spent most of yesterday morning doubling between the airport and the hotel hoping I would be somewhere before rechecking the itinerary and figuring out that unless I'm a time traveler I wont be arriving for a while yet.

My dehydration illness has subsided enough to let me stomach a cup of tea but I keep to dry toast for breakfast just to play it safe.

It's been over a year since I last saw Mum and we chat for hours before Murray (Stepdad) appears and even more hours before Mase (effectively my sister from a completely different mister), whose flight arrived after midnight, climbs out of her bed to join the conversation.

It's not the most conventional family reunion but it is a Quality one and laughter abounds especially as we all struggle to make our mobile phones work in New Zealand.

An afternoon drive to Akaroa in the Banks Peninsula sees plenty of cricket chat on the way. The general consensus is that Scotland have no chance of making the quater finals but I bravely fight our corner with great heart explaining that if we pick up a victory over one of the big nations (hopefully England) and beat Afghanistan (like we should) and Bangladesh (like we can) there is a mathematical chance we could progress ... but scepticism rules.

Akaroa is nestled in the remains of an extinct volcano and on the drive home Murray tells us all about the geology of the area. I'm asleep before he can point out the second "interesting" rock and when I wake up we are back at the hotel where I'm surrounded by a sleeping Mum and Mase who were clearly as interested in talks about rocks as I was.

A quick dinner and an early night is called for, after all, tomorrow is a big day of cricket and cheering as the world cup opens with New Zealand V. Sri Lanka.

my prediction ... New Zealand to win.