The Blue Ringed Octopus

The Duke of Wellington, on hearing that a General Erskine was being sent out to him, wondered at the decision, as he had "generally understood him to be a madman." The Military Secretary at Horseguards replied that "no doubt he is sometimes a little mad, but in his lucid intervals he is an uncommonly clever fellow; and I trust he will have no fit during the campaign, though he looked a little wild as he embarked."

Nutters, the eternal problem. Hostel dorms are always a laugh. If it's not some loon staring at you and giggling to himself, it's a Japanese mother's boy who insists on closing all the windows in an eight-man room on a 20C night, and then farts all night like a bilious wildebeest. I booked a special treat in Auckland, a four-person dorm. Merely three other bodies to contend with! Of course, the Fat Camel hostel, noted for its modern conveniences, neglected to mention that my room had no windows, not any other means for air to enter.

I lay on my bunk measuring the air as it grew rancid. There had to be a moment of equilibrium, I thought, a time came when the air could not grow any denser. I thought, this is it, the worst things are going to get, and I'm not choking on it yet. I was wrong. My top bunk was occupied by a guy with a special condition: whenever he fell asleep he started thrashing around, more and more wildly until the whole bed rocked violently, or until he banged his head off the wall and woke himself for a minute. Some sort of epileptic I thought, hope he doesn't hurt himself, or die. Two hours later, I was still lying there, staring upwards, and murmuring under my breath, die soon die soon

Lurid Nightmare

And then, of course, the sun came out. Auckland was transformed. I went for my morning run across the bridge to the Domain, past the Winter Gardens and the museum through the trees, breathing in the clean air of a city that knows nothing of the fumes of the congested world. Downhill, weaving through the trees, along silent roads to the waterfront. The sea glowed azure under the forest of silver masts.