(We) are now by the lake in impossibly picturesque Queenstown in New Zealand's South Island. The nearby hills have an icing-sugar dust of snow on their smooth sides. Beyond, black mountains rise to razor-edged whitened points which pierce the low cloud. Tourists with albatross-like cameras around their necks and brand-heavy trainers walk the lakeside. They fill the restaurants with careless laughter. Rooms are warmed by friendships, relaxation runs through the town like an epidemic.
Outside it is cold, the air clear. This is a safe world, for us one of comfort and pampering.
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