On Sunday morning, I was busily organising my family and my mother-in-law to leave for Moeraki, where we were meeting my sister-in-law and her fiancé for lunch at Fleurs Place. Fleurs is an amazing little seafood restaurant in this sleepy little village; fishing boats unload their catch directly at her door, and the food is simple and sublime.
When my mobile rang just after 10am, I thought it might be the restaurant asking us to change our booking. But it was Fleur herself, calling to ask if we happened to be driving up from Dunedin, and could stop by a local fish shop to bring her some live crayfish.
Such a kiwi thing to do, right? Both the request, and me responding like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like I’m called by the owner of a restaurant (a woman who rubs shoulders with celebrities on a regular basis, no less) all the time, asking for supplies. NBD, right?
Only in New Zealand.