I hate snakes. I hate them so much that when I was 38, I learnt to surf, jumped out of a plane (Point Break style) and crossed the Gobi desert with just one can of coke. Ok I might be exaggerating about the can of coke. Despite my feats that year, I couldn’t eat one of those jelly snake lollies. (Although I did eat a squirm – no big jelly head.) So when I land in Queenstown, New Zealand where the scariest thing is a hungry bird called a kea, snakes are nowhere in my thoughts. That is until I meet Adam at Aro-ha.