Maybe one day you'll be here too. We'll load up a car or a campervan with big, old quilts, sunscreen, cameras and film. The chilly bin will be packed full of home brew, strawberries, cherries, and ice coffee. The days will be so long and the sunsets so showy and the nights so sparkly with stars that you'll think you've landed in some idyllic pastoral painting from the Renaissance and all you need is a dusky maiden in a cotton dress falling all off her shoulders, some sheep and a lute. And I'll promise you this. We'll drive through picture postcard after picture postcard. The hills and mountains will roll and tower and loom. They'll be snowcapped of course. Pink and purple lupins will border everything you see like trimmings on linen. The water will be the colour of a peppermint sorbet and rocks will magically skip along more times than you've ever managed before. Yeah, you'll be tired. And grumpy at times. All that driving and those long walks in the middle of the afternoon take a lot out of you. But moods like that won't last. For there's dolphins and whales and keas and seabirds to spot. Mince pies, chips, cheese rolls, and lamingtons to scoff. You won't want this to end. Though it must.