Christchurch, New Zealand

I can't believe it was almost 7 years ago that we sat enjoying the autumn sunshine in Cathedral Square, Christchurch - sitting on a bench outside the beautiful cathedral, watching buskers and street performers, moving every now and then as the sun sunk lower and the huge shadow cast by the spire crept towards us.

We were staying in a hostel opposite the cathedral, and spent the days roaming the city - taking the tram to the art gallery and wandering around its lovely little bead shop. We walked miles to find a little vintage shop where Cara bought a lovely deep green velvet blazer and Bridget a fantastic '70s green and white polka dot dress. We walked for about 40 minutes one evening out of town to a cinema to watch "Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban". I bought the book - I picked it up again the other day. It made me smile to see the inscription I'd written on the title page: "Bought in Christchurch, New Zealand - the perfect place to Potter. 15th June, 2004"

And it was the perfect city to potter, with its old Hogwarts/Oxford/Cambridge buildings - pretty much the only old stone architecture in NZ. It had a wonderful, friendly atmosphere - probably due to our meeting up with Hannah (old friends of the family, she'd moved there when she was younger. I hadn't seen her in years but it was like nothing had changed) and the warm friendly attitude of the locals...but maybe also due to its familiar English feel and that fact that, after nearly 3 months traveling around the country, we were nearing the end of our trip. As much as I loved the place, I was looking forward to seeing home, familiarity again.

A few days later we took a small internal flight from Christchurch to Auckland, and from there a flight back to the UK. I swore I saw Orlando Bloom in the airport. I jiggled my legs the whole journey - a nervous flyer, a nervous everything - but as the plane rose above the clouds the view was breathtaking: a blanket of cloud with the snow-capped Southern Alps a line snaking away into the north.

All I can seem to think about now is that evening, sitting outside the cathedral. I have a photo somewhere of us sitting on the bench, Bridget perched on the top wearing her polka dot dress. That bench is under rubble now - the spire of the cathedral collapsed during the quake. I remember the little old ladies that worked in the cathedral visitor centre and I hope they got out before the whole thing came down.

Such a terrible terrible thing - and strangely, almost shamefully, I feel more shaken and upset by it than any tragedy before, because I feel like I know that city.

If you can spare anything, please please donate to the Red Cross NZ earthquake appeal.