But during Tim’s and my utterly enjoyable weekend jaunt there, it instead calls to mind an attractive English village: compact, picturesque, and steeped – like a good cup of tea – in heritage.

Not to write it off as quaintly ancient. For example, if you’ve anything approaching the level of Twitter obsession that I have, then the free wi-fi on Main St will be well-received.

Friday, 6pm: Tim drives our noble steed, an enormous farm ute with neither air-conditioning nor power steering, cautiously across the Rimutakas. Though filled with sharp turns and dizzying heights, they really are beautiful – especially now, in the early evening, caked with gloomy cloud, the greyness of which makes the green trees and bush simply glow. And even with this slow crawl round the mountains it’s a surprisingly swift journey from Wellington – we arrive at White Swan Hotel barely an hour later. Read full article