I slowly become aware of my continuing existence on this mortal coil.  Limbs seem to be unhindered , for the moment my gastric processes seem sound . But my head. God . My head. There is a bastard behind the eyes. It feels like a pig shat in my head. What do you mean we came all the way out here without aspirin ?!

I scrape myself together. I drink water. I make tea. I drink a whole pot of that. I lay longer. Then shower, then lay some more. If yesterday I had forgotten the ills of the world today they are all to clear and present in my thumping angry mind.

At 10 am when we were to be meeting Leeanne at the brewery for breakfast  Michael pokes his nose through the mail flap on the door of the retreat. “How ya going? , far off?”

10 minutes later , I told him 5, we load my bag into the van and head towards the brewery. Leeanne is making use of the cold snap to put down a bonus spontaneous brew. When we arrive the space is full of the smell of the mash, they are boiling small portions of it in a side pot. Turbid mashing and Belgian tradition in action.

We drink strong coffee. I find a pew to hide in. A literal pew.

We go next door to a café. I shout breakfast. They will take no filthy lucre from me so I pay for last nights beer and cheese in breakfast . Works for me.

As we leave to go to breakfast I step through the mini door in the large rare barndoor to the brewery. The twisting movement of heading through sideways results in me tearing something in my knee. Getting old is a trip, getting off is not an option I’m keen on, staying the course can be annoying. I don’t’ let on to Michael and Leeanne but from here on I christen myself “Shuffling Jesus” a lot of walking I had planned in Dunedin just went out the window. At midday I bid them farewell and take the coach in the reverse direction to yesterday.

In Dunedin I stay in The Leviathan. It’s an old hotel, its central , its got ghosts, its got character. The Leviathan sits in the middle of State Highway 1, it’s south facing ‘wedge’ end has the north bound lanes to one side the south the other. My room has a good impersonation of a blood stain on the bathroom floor. If a murder hasn’t gone down in your hotel room it hasn’t really lived. I stayed at a hostel in Sydney once that had an outline of a body with a huge bloody stain on the carpet of the foyer floor. I don’t know if they were taking the piss but no one was laughing.

I’m booked into a fancy Scottish Restaurant for a whisky matched degustation that night. Nothing like a severe hangover to prepare one for a night of whisky and food. I tell Shannon she can have Rubes if this destroys me. I survive. The whisky matches are fantastic and considered. The desert courses in particular are amazing. Check out Bracken if you are ever in Dunedin and in need of a whisky and food experience. Don’t do it with a hangover.

After my meal I am done. I hobble to bed and pray for nocturnal absolution for last night’s sins.