Another short Test match, another road trip.

Granted, this one was always going to take place after day five. But with England polishing off the second Test in Wellington – and the series – by about tea on day three, exploration was on the agenda (after finishing all my work, of course).

Wellington is a great city, probably my favourite over here. Picture a glorified version of the gentrified bits of East End of London; cool little bars, cafes and restaurants, tidy music scene, all without the chic snobbery but a hell of a lot of wind. If they ever decide to relocate Lord’s, then my first choice should be to stick it on a roundabout in Dalston.

Inside my first few days of the tour, former Black Caps quick Iain O’Brien got in touch to send me one specific café recommendation – Maranui Café: “Coffee. Food. Views. That place is so good. Especially if you can get the bay window seat.” Naturally, we had to check it out – hey, if it’s good enough Harry and Meghan – and it delivered, handsomely.

As you have probably guessed by the fact that three of the four Wellington highlights listed related to eating and drinking, staying fit on tour is tricky. Thankfully, New Zealand’s space and picturesque sceneries offer ample room for activities.

There are a few runners in the travelling press pack, so we rallied a gang and headed to the Waitangi Park Run, which takes in the beautiful Wellington waterfront for its 5k course. Could have done with it being a little less warm, but everyone finished in good enough time to collect themselves (and shower) ahead of day two of the second Test.

It was a shame to say good bye to Wellington, but a drive up towards Hamilton awaited for the final leg of the tour. To say it was an eventful journey would be… well it would be overstating it. But let’s just say we had a quick word with a traffic cop and then ticked off a general life experience.

Every wondered how many cricket journalists it takes to change a flat tyre? The answer is three. One to take the photo, one (me) to offer wry commentary.

I never had “changing a tyre” down as a life experience, yet alone a bonding one. But I did feel closer to my colleagues. No doubt it will be an anecdote’we’ll share forever, each of us claiming more and more credit with every retelling. You can’t really call yourself a writer if you’re not inserting yourself into a story and embellishing along the way.

Those hiccups aside, Lake Taupo was reached ahead of the sunset to take in some spectacular sights.

As it happens, the town was preparing for the Ironman World Championships, which made more sense. For a moment I thought the population of Taupo was exclusively sinuey 6-foot-somethings. A 5-foot-something lifer, it was the most unwelcome I’ve felt in New Zealand.