I blame Bill Bryson
You are being treated(?) to a supplementary post here, but it’s a confessional piece. No, I’m not seeking remission from sins (though I have many) but from fear.
We all know that NZ has a completely different eco-system to Australia, including the fact that there are very few bugs and beasties that can actually do you harm. The infamous sandflies are merely a nuisance. Well, not so in Australia. Just across the Tasman Sea, Australia has the greatest number and variety, of any country in the world, of creatures that can cause you serious harm, even (dare I say it) death!
Now I don’t want to be too melodramatic about this point, but I have elected to camp throughout most of this trip, and I might be accused of making a cardinal error when I chose to read Bill Bryson’s eminently readable account of his trips to Oz in his book Down Under.
I like Bill Bryson, but I didn’t need to be reminded of the myriad vicious and poisonous creatures that are lying in readiness everywhere to have me for lunch…….
Do you remember as a child looking for the bogeyman underneath your bed? So now this is me, looking for the unwelcome visitor to my tent as I crawl inside it after dark, and in the mornings, I find myself shaking out the tent with unusual enthusiasm, before I pack it.