This garden was the highlight today – the last day of the tour. Note there’s no apostrophe in the name. Perhaps that’s because both husband and wife garden here. Thirty years ago there were only bare paddocks. Melana Bradley said her mother-in-law took her to a garden centre to explain the difference between annuals and perennials.

It is the most formally organised of the gardens we’ve visited and it caters specifically for weddings.

There are some quirky elements.

The gardens are designed to accommodate weddings and other gatherings.

This horizontal punga trunk is supporting new life.

We were treated to carrot cake and tea in china cups.

In Te Kuiti there were spring flowers in the public loos, a statue of famous All Black Colin Meads in the main street and the railway station is now a restaurant where I had lunch.

Today we went over the Rimutakas to Aston Norwood Gardens to see the blossoms.

There were fairy houses for children to play with, and a cream tea for us.

We drove north along the transmission gully road and were entertained by the puns on bulls in Bulls.

We’re staying at the Powderhorn Hotel in Ohakune which looks as if a whole pine plantation was used in its construction.

Here’s the aftermath of our dinner at the Maple Leaf restaurant. Like the hotel, it’s all beams and rustic fireplaces.

Longbush Cottage Garden is delightful. Just ten years in the making so far, its owners returned from London, bought the bare paddock and derelict cottage and set to work.

There are chooks and a marvellous garden shed. Dotted about are places to sit, including a gorgeous glasshouse with a chandelier.

Greytown is full of delightful wooden cottages and boutique shops. The bookshop is divine as is the shop with beautifully displayed Pashley cycles – and locally made gin. An interesting combination!

It was a beautiful day; Wairarapa at its best.

An early morning walk on the Napier waterfront refreshed and revived my spirits (bit grumpy yesterday!)

Behind our hotel, up on a hill – some character homes.

It was a good start to the day which included a visit to a biodynamic garden which produces creams and health aids and a wildlife reserve where the highlight was seeing two kiwi.

At Mt Bruce Pūkaha Reserve we saw kaka, kakariki, weta, wood pigeons and kiwi.

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?

Of the two, Cambridge and Raglan, Raglan is my favourite.

Cambridge has some street art and curated antique/second hand shops and tributes to the horses bred there.

Raglan has heart and soul.

The Bridal Falls near Raglan are pretty spectacular too. The sun came out to reveal a rainbow in the falling water.

What a lovely experience – as everyone had said it would be. My brother reckoned I’d move into the wee house you can explore. I nearly did!

Every detail delightful, even well-used (you would think) hobbit toothbrushes.

I often crop my photos, but not these. Such clever crafting in everything you see.

We were each given a mug at the end as compensation for the interruption caused as they construct a venue for a wedding on Saturday.

Here are a few of my favourite photos – I took nearly 100!

As a bonus, there were lambs on the hillside.

I was so absorbed that I realised, when we finished the tour, that I had forgotten all about yesterday’s misfortunes.

This was the lovely sight from the shuttle to the airport this afternoon. I was beginning to relax at that point after a fitful sleep and busy morning. Felix disappeared at the time I was to take him to the Cattery. My sister and I took Mum to the doctor for a pre admission check up, then to her respite care provider where we settled her into her room. There seemed to be multiple forms to fill in some of which we were sure we’d completed before. Watching the clock, we headed home anxious to see if Felix had appeared. At a set of traffic lights we got the fright of our lives when an SUV in front of us reversed suddenly. That’s the first time I’ve used my car horn.

At home, Felix was curled up on Mum’s bed. He was shoved into his cat carrier and we made it to the Cattery in time.

It seemed easy from there: tidying the house, switching things off, locking up. The airport shuttle was on time.

At the airport I discovered my flight had been cancelled. I could have wept. All those months of planning. Pulling myself together, I negotiated a flight to Auckland, despite being offered flights the next day via Wellington. That’s the hard part done, I thought. Now all I need is a rental car from Auckland to Hamilton. But no, you could only rent a car if you returned it to Auckland.

I was on the plane before takeoff wondering what I could do. Then I heard a woman across the aisle telling another passenger that their flight to Hamilton had been cancelled – as was their flight the day before. I joined in the conversation and the upshot was I made it to Hamilton with them on a shuttle they had ordered. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Yesterday my Auckland cousin asked if I’d be up their way on this trip and I said no, not this time. Little did I know. All I saw of the city were lights and motorway in the dark.

So here I am in my hotel in Hamilton, almost as planned, and extremely relieved that I can (fingers crossed) proceed with my plans.

This kiwi author’s experience of working at Facebook moves from ambitious optimism to nightmarish horror. I guess we know that Facebook (now Meta, but we all still call it Facebook) has difficulty preventing some of the terrible things which are posted across the world, and the data collection and selling, but the extent of it is made clear here. Worse, it is, in fact, usually preventable. Think Myanmar where there were no controls on how Facebook was used. Think the 2016 US elections when most of Trump’s campaign money came from Facebook, Wynn-Williams claims, and disinformation did its work. Apparently, those at the top of the organisation simply don’t care – hence the title. The organisation also has the ‘usual’ issues of overwork, ethical slippage and sexual harassment.

The book is almost like a novel at times and becomes tense and suspenseful. The author has survived a number of medical misadventures – the book begins with the shark attack she survived as a teenager – and these incidents seem analogous with her workplace conditions and challenges. With her diplomatic background it is part of her job to promote Facebook to world leaders by arranging strategic meetings for Zuckerberg and to brief him beforehand. In the end, it seems the rather dumb and very rich boss doesn’t care who is damaged as he strives for power and as the money rolls in. The part where Barack Obama gives him a piece of his mind is very satisfying to read. It is also heartening to learn that the author, post Facebook, goes on to work in more ethical ways to develop policies for AI and other tech developments which we struggle to comprehend and contain.