As I was about to consider taking my place the gentleman to my right welcomed me and encouraged me to be bold in shouting for the Australian team. I looked at him somewhat surprised. Then I noticed that he looked more like Brad Fiddler than Bette Middler.

Unhurried and far from harried, I ordered a bottle of courage from the vendor and took my seat. The men in my very midst were soon up to their chins in chatter. As befits a polite Kiwi I did my civil best to keep my cool. The man to my left looked a very hard man!

He reminded me of a former Australian prop who had had many a battle with Sean Fitzpatrick. What was he doing, here, now I wondered? Could he, perhaps, be a Sydney Morning Herald reporter that had come to New Zealand, solely, to criticise our beloved All Blacks? He wore this serious stubble that made him look fiercer than the average lion you come across at Auckland Zoo. Possibly he was looking fierce, because he just liked to. I'm informed by my more worldly contacts thatin these days of violent behaviour that it's a very "cool" thing to do things this way. I could see unless I was at my impeccable best that the situation was tailor-made for some temporal suffering notably mine.

Struggling with all these distracting thoughts I found it difficult to recall why I was here.

Was it to investigate why rugby, for many, had become the new religion of the land? All this chanting in my delicate ears reminded me of those good drum players that go up and down Queen street with shaven heads, not altogether good memories. I see them even now chanting as if their lives and our lives were hundred fold enhanced by it.

My own viewpoint is that there is much merit in what they are doing. Afterall, all good discipline is to be commended. Here I am, then, in the prime of my life, alright just past the flush of youth, carefully, smart and non-sexually dressed. Did I need to be reminded of my teenage experiences? One thing I've noticed over the years is that rugby players are generally not too small.

Bump into them and they will give you knackered knees. Get pranged by them and you will have to call your mum out of retirement to nurse you back to life.

Alertness was, therefore, high on the agenda. I've always enjoyed singing in unison and the name of Jonah is a name of beauty , is it not? But after several thousand mexican waves and clutching a sore back, even life's delights can be agony. I do not know if left handedness exists in monkeys, but my right hand was so sore that I felt I had better see if I could use my left hand more effectively.

When confusion reigns in the mind one must turn to Scripture. I recalled Psalm 46:10, and began to yearn to demonstrate its truth. How blessed I was to be able to demonstrate, that in the midst of all this noise and clamour, that I could be still before God and feel the warmth of His love on my flush cheeks.

I have always loved rugby and enjoyed playing flank forward with the boys up until the fourth form. One of the abiding memories of rugy has been the haka. Have you ever seen a man dance more aggressively?

Look at a rugy player's high skill level as they open their mouths and waggle their tongues!

Marvel how they stay on their feet when legs and arms alike are akimber. Behold these talented men how their intense eyes can set fire to the serenity of an opposing player's soul.

Are they trying to teach us something? Should we join in? I love all types of dancing. Here before my contact lenses was a big fella with thighs too hard and huge to avoid. How excited I was becoming. Come with me, cherished reader, come with me and together we will explore the exciting world of sheer adrenalin. For a few hours we will, partially, escape from the scrutiny of our own introspection.

So this was the king of Tonga! His hair and eyebrows just had to be seen to be believed. Now do not get me wrong, I adore watching little men perform too. Fiery courage-filled little men.

Did'nt I marry one myself? Former seventies winger Grant Batty played as cheekily as a thrush desperate for the hazel nut spread on a sandwich of an unsuspecting sandwich eater. Yet is it not the big, burly and bruising that attract our attention. Did we not all adore watching pocket battleships like Brian BG Williams?

Yet now before me was a man that provides better entertainment than a charging bull, a runaway bulldozer or a man swallowed by a whale.

As a rule I do not gamble with how God wants me to look or behave! I have not gone in for cosmetic surgery to procure long elephantine ears. Nor have I busied myself to acquire new age nipples. Bells that go off every time my belly button does, whatever it does, do nothing for me. Neither can I boast foolishly of being an owner of peroxide hair!

Remember about me, if you must, that I am from the North, and that Elvis is from the South. As much as you are looking forward to it, you will not see me bounding up and down Trafalgar street, like a kangaroo with inquisitive joey eyes watching for your every action and reaction. I am an ordinary woman! My escort is not an overhead-hovering group of terrorist seagulls threatening to drop dollops of poop.

Wisdom is not whacky! Nor are those with a true desire to teach wisdom. I will be coming to Nelson to speak up against playing lotto, pokies and sport's betting. For this reason, and the above mentioned, I shall not be mounting a penny farthing and setting off to pedal up and down Waimea road; inorder, like a rodeo rider, to round up the unrighteous of Richmond.

I'm off on a true holiday to Nelson city. My time there shall be replete with a relaxed schedule. I love cities like Nelson that appreciate me. Now here is a city, peopled by both the civilised and less civilised. Does any city treat newbies like me nicer than Nelsonians? I'll meet Nelsonians at the Chez Elco. I'll, just, let them do most of the talking, and if the situation turns controversial I'll just adjust my smile to theirs! They will share their reservoirs of wit with me, and together we will climb the steepest ridges of knowledge-seeking without disappearing into the deep. Together, even though testosterone levels rise, we will learn gradually how to rebuke stubborness! Together we will sing like Charlotte Church, and become even more enamoured with Jesus Christ and his peerless perfection of character! Are you just curious about this middle-aged Charlotte Church lookalike, then, bring along some ear plugs unless you are prepared to risk being annoyed, and prepared to risk being upset! I am wearing mine already. I'm setting off, now, on this journey to kindred neighbours, prepared to both be chased by whales and to have a whale of a time. My own wit, and my own winking 'n' blinking needs refreshment that only Nelsonians and Nelson's climate can supply. I set off now, then, to prove and test Nelsonians in my unique way. I set off, now, in search of souls slim on soundness of mind. Will you meet me at the Chez Elco, so that I have insider information on which souls in your city are relying on a healthy t-cell count for salvation? Will your less-than-steady-on-their-feet teenagers meet me at the Chez Elco, so that I can talk to them about the advantages of avoiding the consumption of alcohol? Wisdom is not whacky! Fellow policemen and policewomen, I have a word for you all. I'll not be pedalling up and down your pathways. I'll not be loitering without a license to speak with the unlawful. Should you see me and be in awe of me, just calm down. You will soon master how not to giggle like a goose. Take a deep breathe, law enforcement personnel, and get used to my sparkling personality. I am fighting, afterall, on your side and commend you; for you do well many, many times. I am not a captain Mainwaring! I am not a waring man or a waring woman who wars against himself or herself. I am a modern girl without the messy make-up of modernity. Unlike in Europe, you can approach me without being surprised by a kiss on both cheeks. So now that you have come to the end of yourselves, citizens of Nelson, it is time to seek counsel from the holy Bible. Standing in the rain with our mouths open will not supply us with the water of life, that our soul desperately needs. By all means suck in refreshing rain; for it is clean enough. Yet more than this, desirein the very depths of your heart and soul for a living relationship with Jesus, God's eternal Wisdom. Set your hearts, anew, to drink from Jesus' holy fountain. My confidence is in you cherished Nelsonians. Practise kindness by sharing some of your new zest for life when you see me; then we will always, more and more closely, agree!