The newest dance troup to hit Wellington (we call ourselves ‘Interpretive Spears’), went on a road trip last weekend to the lovely, slightly less freezing Wairarapa for a day of vineyards, shared lunches and chocolate.

Apparently we are all going through a quarter life crisis and some of us wound up heading into town post-return. Do not ask.

Wellington city has a fascinating array of bars. They all look slightly different but at 12am, every single one of them is full of girls almost ten years younger than us, wearing next to nothing. It is hard to bite back from dispensing advice about sensible clothing and footwear. We figure that despite our age (when did all these people get so young?!?), if we couldn’t beat them, we would join them.

The experience is something you would probably not be able to handle without a healthy 6 hours of wine tasting behind you. It is a shock to the system… The noise, the crowds, the crying girls in the bathroom and those boys who prowl around attaching themselves to anything with two legs.

It is a brilliantly non-subtle and hilarious sub-culture. I’m not sure if you could find it anywhere in the world outside of NZ?