New Zealand Listener

Smells like Paradise

I have seen Paradise. I went there as a boy in the back of my dad’s Holden.

One autumn nearly half a century ago, the family packed up our car and drove for hours from Invercar-gill to find Paradise at the end of a dusty, metal road. We didn’t need a prophet, or the Good Book, or signs in the sky to show us the way, just a gas

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