A month ago I followed the Department of Conservation for an entire day in Franz Josef, a small village at the West Coast of New Zealand.
At 7am the team was up and about to check the health of 50 kiwi. Making sure they were strong and hydrated enough for their big release in the wild. After being monitored and raised safely on a crèche-island, without predators, they’re finally big enough to go back to their natural habitat.
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7.36am, my phone rings. With my sleepy head I try to reach for it. Too late. Someone left a voicemail. Immigration. My heart skips a beat. I’ve only handed in my dossier last Friday, why are they already calling me? It usually takes up to a month to process. Is something wrong?

