It was like the end of Moby Dick

This evening saw me sitting astride the gabled roof of my flat’s Chapman-Taylor studio extension in a rainstorm, viciously battering the blocked guttering with an eight-foot length of unused TV aerial, trying to dislodge enough pohutukawa needles to reduce the sheet of water coursing down my porous bedroom windows.

Try doing that in any other country in the world.


Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: