The title is from Allen Curnow’s poem which describes the discomfort of settlers finding their place in New Zealand. That was evident today on the first day of my North Island tour. There were pine plantations and geothermal pipes on stripped-back land. The Esk Valley is still cyclone-scarred.

I’m travelling with a number of Waikato people who refer to the ‘Māori Wars’ – a term I’d thought we’d long since corrected. This probably explains my response to what I’ve seen today.

The first garden at Lava Glass tried too hard to create something pretty.

Trelinnoe Park was much wilder, but crammed with exotics as if recreating something not quite of this place, lovely as it is.

Now we are in Napier where exotic palms line the street and art deco is the theme. Charming though, and our hotel frontage curves to give views of the sea and sunset. Is this how we make ourselves feel settled here?