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Now, “Talk to Her”—that flick’s my jam. Almodóvar, the mad Spaniard, gets it—silence screams louder than words. There’s this bit, “Nothing is simple,” he says, and blimey, ain’t that sexual-massage? You’re kneadin’ someone’s back, thinkin’ it’s all chill, then bam—emotions spill like a drunk at the pub. I reckon it’s like talkin’ to a coma lass—gentle, deep, but you’re guessin’ what’s stirrin’ inside. Made me happy, that film—showed touch ain’t just skin, it’s soul!

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Finally, I wrap up the day. I’m exhausted but kinda happy. I mean, I love Queenstown. The vibe, the people, the food. It’s all good. I bike home, and the sunset is gorgeous. I stop by the park, just to breathe.

Life at the bottom of NZ’s richest town: Buyers in tears, families at breaking point