My legs are still aching from my long walk with Kit and Tui a few days ago and I’m keen to do something about my lack of fitness. New Zealand is not a country for sitting around – there is too much to see and do here, too much beauty outside to waste any time festering away indoors. Being here has given me a new hunger to explore and ramble, and it is this that I focus on as I rub the sleep out of my eyes and blunder across the car park.

‘Morning!’

Griff greets me from the open door of a coach, a clipboard in his hands and sunglasses pushed up into his tufty blond hair.

I was happily surprised when Kit suggested after our walk that I join him and Tui on this day trip to Milford Sound – even more so when my half-sister started jumping up and down with excitement at the prospect. As it transpires, Griff operates a number of tours out of Queenstown, and he happened to have a few extra seats going spare today. Allie wasn’t able to join us because someone had to stay behind at the stables, and the girl who had covered for her and Kit on the day we’d all played Frisbee golf had the weekend off to attend a wedding. And anyway, Kit added, Allie had seen it all before, whereas I was a genuine tourist, and Tui a big fan of the seals that we were apparently guaranteed to see.

‘Hey,’ I say, glancing at my watch. ‘I’m not late, am I?’

‘Nah,’ Griff grins. ‘Kit only got here a few minutes ago – him and Trouble are already on board.’

Clutching the coffee I picked up on the way here, I head quickly into the cool air-conditioned interior of the bus. Tui, who is sitting about halfway down by the window, spots me straight away and calls out my name, her eyes screwing up in delight as I make my way along to join her and Kit. He taps his takeaway cup against mine in greeting, his expression communicating that he feels exactly the same about the early start as I do.

As Tui chatters away, telling me a story about how Beavis chased a rabbit and got himself stuck in its burrow, Griffin does a final headcount and, with a merry toot, manoeuvres the coach out through the deserted streets.

It is nearing six a.m., and the only people I see as we drive out of town are those opening their cafés or shops for the day. The sky is a faded navy blue, and the sun is tucked away behind the distant hills. It is undoubtedly going to be another scorching-hot day, but for now the heat is quiet, soothed into submission by the damp fingers of dawn.