Windy Wellington
"Scotty, I need more power to the shields."A scene from Star Trek? No, a scene from the top of a hill in Wellington. The tent behind us was already in orbit and we were next. "Set coordinates 90 mark 0. Engage.""Captain, I'm giving ya all she's got. I can't hold her together much longer. The wind is breaking her up."
We set up earlier today on the only plot of land in the city where tents are welcome, the back of Rawena's Hostel. The wind was so strong that our normal five minute assembly job was lengthened to twenty. As quickly as I could catch the tent corners, the wind stole them away again. By late afternoon the wind had whipped up to gale force. By early evening Mother Nature was tossing in a torrent of rain. It was all so cozy -- sleeping to pelting rain and wind blasts intent on tearing down your walls! Our blue rip-stop nylon was enduring crushing the force. I kept throwing my hands to the ceiling expected it to cave in. By morning, my arms were noodles and my eyelids were as saggy as the tent.
Of the twelve tents that were there when we went to sleep, only three were standing by morning. Windy Wellington? They weren't kidding.