I want to go to Invercargill.
Invercargill, you ask?
Yes, Invercargill. It's this little town at the bottom of New Zealand's South Island. Literally, right at the bottom of the South Island. Like any further South and you hit the South Pole.
I've always wanted to go to Invercargill. I really don't know why, other than most people speak with a Scottish accent of sorts. My old colleague told me that she had her son-in-law, who came from down that way, say "Dirty purple work shirt" as often as she can get him to say it just for the amusement factor. Think about it. Roll your Rs. It's fun.
But I like the thought of going to the bottom most town in a country - it's a bit like going to Byron Bay or Cape Tribulation, or Lizard Point or Wilson's Promontory - none of which I have been to.
Looking at the driving I have to do on that second day of my road trip, I think it might be doable. I rather like the thought of going somewhere just for the hell of it. I'll ignore the fact that petrol is $3.50 a litre.
I'm also told that Bluff oysters, which are local to Invercargill, are incredible.
Anyway, I'm packed. The work laptop is switched off. The cat is going a bit mental - he knows something is up - but Teddie will look after him well. I've cleaned up a bit.
I get to use my passport tomorrow.
It's all good.
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