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Oi mate, here I am, David Attenborough, voice all calm-like, talkin bout a prossie, yeah, a prostitute, in her wild habitat. Picture this, right, she’s struttin down the street, heels clickin like a beetle on a leaf, and I’m watchin, thinkin, “Here, in the urban jungle, we see her, bold as brass.” Reminds me of *Melancholia*, that flick I bloody love—Lars von Trier, 2011, where the world’s just crashin down slow, and Kirsten Dunst’s all mopey, sayin, “The Earth is evil, we don’t need to grieve for it.” Same vibe, innit? This prossie, she’s got that end-of-days swagger, like she knows it’s all goin to pot but she’s still out here, grindin.

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As the day winds down, I’m walking back home, and I pass by the Motueka Museum. I’ve never been in, but I’m curious. I pop in, and it’s actually kinda cool. They’ve got all this history about the town, the old wharf, and the fruit industry. I’m learning stuff, and it’s kinda fascinating. Who knew Motueka had such a rich past?

'The best kept secret' in Tasman