We woke having had another cold night and it took us a while to get going. When our body temperatures were up and running we made the short journey to Rivendell! As expected it was barely recognisable from the film but we used our imaginations, with some help from the sign boards, before getting back in the Enema for the drive north.

The road was initially exhilarating but soon gave way to vast acres of flat sheep country. At the centre of this ovine metropolis was Masterton, home of the annual 'Golden Shears' competition. We decided that we should embrace the wooliness and went into the wool museum. It was an amazing celebration of all things sheepy and I learned a lot of new terms, namely that a lambs were called plum jam and that a well sheared sheep is a 'pink-un'.

We headed on and after another 200km came into Hastings. A brief wander around was all we needed to summarise the town before settling for a coffee and hot cross bun stop.

We made some excellent onward plans which involved driving on to the coast and out towards the southern most point of Hawkes Bay, at Cape Kidnappers, then planning an early start to Nelson the next morning. Our campsite sounded beautifully remote, and it was. Having left the acres of manicured vineyard we ran out of road, quite literally, it had been taken by the sea, and in its place we had a very small strip of verge and gravel to squeeze down. We made it and after checking in the lady showed us to our spot on the back of a knackered old moped, which was very fitting for our gypsyish surroundings. We walked along the small strip of beach which was showing and decided that a team run was in order.

Suitably sweaty we returned out of breath and set about preparing steak, potatoes and avocado, feta and tomato salad. We ate it as the sun set, looking across Hawkes bay to where we could see Napier lighting up. A toffee pop and cup of tea for pudding and we were ready for bed with the sounds of waves crashing very nearly underneath the enema's nose.