It’s a minor miracle we even made it to the lakeside afterparty of prossecco and skinny dipping.

Weather is lord above all in NZ and frustratingly looked largely disturbed for the entirety of our trip. Fraser and I had definitely considered that the three-week shoot window could quite likely evaporate without any summit attempts. Leaving us to finish the job sometime before Christmas without the rest of the crew.

The great thing about wild weather in the mountains meant there was plenty of swell about so we bailed to a friends coastal shack, working our way around the south coast chasing waves and generally showing off the country to our visitors. When the swell died we pulled out the thick rubber and got stuck in chasing crayfish. Take a lobster, triple it in size and swap the pincers for powerful and needle sharp legs. That, my salty little friend, is a crayfish. Xavier had taken me spear fishing in France and was super fired up to squirm into some underwater slots and drag out some of these tasty treats. He even conned me into pulling up a few sea urchins and whipped up a beautiful cerviche. Nadine seemed a little surprised by our rapidly changing plans but threw herself into the water to score some of her first waves. Being friendly hosts we may have lied about the lack of large sharks.