I’ve been lumbering up New Zealand’s relentless hills for the last hour or so. As the ground finally levels off, three figures, one dressed as a king, one a queen of hearts playing card and another, a nun, come into view.
It’s like I’m in a fever dream; I’m tired, my thighs are on fire, my face is ripe tomato red and I can’t work out a cohesive theme between the costumes. A deck of cards? The Mad Hatter’s tea party? If so, why is there a man dressed as a nun?
