A brisk tapping at the driver’s window roused me. “You OK? I drove past 15 minutes ago and saw you, and now you look like you’ve slumped even lower. You haven’t had a heart attack or anything?” I reassured and thanked my would-be saviour. In Auckland if someone thought I’d had a heart attack, the car’s wheels would have been gone by now. A new thought struck me. “Are you a local?”