The last way I wanted to start my train trip was an argument with Mike Hosking. Or rather: ranting at someone supremely oblivious to any noise I’m making. But I did anyway, tapping out a denunciation as we glided down Tamaki Drive and over Hobson Bay.
Our warm welcome on the intercom explained we'd be going quietly for the next little bit because of suburban rail traffic but then we’d be opening the throttle.
I was meanwhile opening the throttle on Mike Hosking and why? Because there would be a hole in the newsletter if I didn't, is one answer.
