I was immediately drawn to the compact nature of this little building in the main street of Ruatoria and the way the trellising suggests a nose and a pair of eyes (for me anyway). It was a quiet Sunday morning when I drove into this small, remote (largely) Maori settlement in heartland Ngati Porou territory. Everything was quiet. One man walking with his daughter said hello; two hunters with fierce pig dogs on the back of their ute drove slowly past me; and a lady wearing her pyjamas and dressing gown wandered up the street and into the local dairy. It was 9.15am.
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