White Nights, grey skies and a Gayle shower
Our correspondent returns to familiar surroundings down under and learns that you need to pack mittens, even for the New Zealand summer

The colours of Melbourne's Queen Victoria Market • Getty Images
Raindrops on runways and travel bug bitten. Heading to summer so no need for mittens. Heavy laden suitcase almost tied up with strings. These are a few of my favourite things.
Most of Christchurch has been razed to the ground. In the developing world, construction sites are a norm for us; in the developed they stick out, suggesting something has gone wrong. Not on New Regent Street, though. They call it the loveliest lane in the country, and with charming pastel coloured buildings and quaint balconies, it's easy to see why.
Remember that thing about no need for mittens? Scrap it. New Zealand is too close to the Antarctic and I should have known better. Swirling winds, rain and 12-degree weather greet me and South Africa. In the makeshift press box at Hagley Oval, the gusts cause the tent to shake and rattle. On the field South Africa hold firm to beat Sri Lanka in a tense chase. It's only a practice game but we all know how important that could be.
Finding the soul of a place when it's stripped bare can be stirring, and a walking tour of Christchurch confirms as much. We start at the stunning Botanical Gardens, which our tour guide Kelly explains became a sanctuary because they were untouched by the earthquake. Alongside flows the Avon River, an underappreciated part of the city, on which a boardwalk development has begun. Our 4km stroll takes us to a containerised shopping village, which was one of the first projects embarked on following the quake, past several buildings whose façades are being propped up while their insides are redone; the Cathedral, over which there is much debate; and the haunting 185 chairs, a memorial to those who died. Christchurch is a place of resilience and I salute it.
Hamilton-bound. It is the first time I am returning to an overseas destination on tour in my time as a cricket journalist. I consider myself a "homie" in this town, I've even booked the same hotel as last time, albeit that it goes by a different name. Le Grand on Victoria Street is now the Hamilton City Oaks but they have changed nothing, not even the carpet, which is still in need of a good scrub.
Begin my day with a run along the Waikato, a cathartic experience. The last time I was here, I was a huffer and puffer, a pretender who was taking baby steps. Now I still huff and puff, but I make it all the way home. I wish I had a Hawk-Eye-style comparison between then and now but memory will have to do.
The Soweto Gospel Choir, who saw South Africa off with a moving rendition of the national anthem in Johannesburg 11 days earlier, are in town. They performed at the Hamilton Garden Arts Festival two nights ago, and although they will not be popping in at the match, they are giving a free concert in Garden Place two hours before the start of play. Considering the tickets are NZD$59, this is an opportunity that cannot be turned down. To my surprise, I get a front-row spot and my view is unrestricted among both South Africa and Zimbabwean fans, who bring a little bit of Africa to Middle Earth.
Australia may just be across the ditch from New Zealand but the ditch isn't as small as it sounds. A lengthy trip to Melbourne culminates late in the afternoon, when traffic is teeming. Wander down Hardware Lane in search of dinner and remember why bright lights and big cities have always been my thing.
South Africa have the day off, which provides me a rare opportunity to go look beyond the boundary. Zimbabwe's Solomon Mire spent time in Melbourne, so I seek out people who knew him. Swan Richards, the co-founder of the Crusaders Cricket Club is one of them and he delights me with tales of Mire's rags-to-riches story.
Going to the market is among my favourite things to do back home, so when I hear the Queen Victoria Market is open once a week at night, I have to go. It does not disappoint. From vintage clothing to a food stall specialising in grilled peaches, it has everything. The queues go around corners, which makes buying anything a pretty arduous task but as a community space it's a winner.
The MCG. Been to the concourse before but had not been in it. Everything about the experience is larger than life. Walk past the Federation Bells, cross the William Barak Bridge and hear the chime. Inanimate objects are not supposed to talk to you in that way. Then enter the "Colosseum" and hear the silence.
South Africa are in hiding. The Indian media contingent is roughly four times the size of their own and much more aggressive. South Africa don't put up their usual player-a-day for a chat. I can sense an uncomfortableness about them, which sits uneasily.
There's nothing like that when I meet my colleague Melinda Farrell for the first time. We click so easily it only takes a few words and a nod or two for us to decide we will shoot our first Polite Enquiries show sitting on the World Cup hashtag outside the stadium. How cool are we?
Almost 87,000 of them are at the MCG and most are cheering India. It is intimidating. Full stop. Among the few who are not is Graeme Smith, who knocks on the press box window to say hello.
Grey skies greet the final morning in Melbourne and it begins to spit at the airport. In Johannesburg, we call it drizzle. In Melbourne, it is considered enough to close the airport for three hours. Eventually we are off to Canberra, where a real storm arrives. The thunder rumbles with the anger of a hungry bear and sheets of rain splatter from the sky. Now that is rain.
Chris Gayle plunders the first double-hundred by a non-Indian batsman in a one-dayer and Zimbabwe are shell- shocked. I haven't seen him bat like this before: The first half is studious, the second sensational.
In Sydney, South Arica are unconcerned, especially when Gayle does not turn up for training the day before the match. They have their own injury worries with Vernon Philander ruled out and JP Duminy injured but they are wounded and I expect them to fight hard.
The Victor Trumper stand is like Centurion's grand stand is at that stage of a Sunday afternoon when the beer has been flowing for a few hours. Afrikaans is the only language I hear until the cries give way to "Ole, Ole." South Africa's campaign is back on track, and although home is still a month away, at the SCG, it seems around the next corner.
Firdose Moonda is ESPNcricinfo's South Africa correspondent