It's unclear if the Kiwis just can't spell, or whether they are referring to someone other than the great bard. Either way, the park was just the place for a quiet stroll on a Sunday afternoon. It had something of an English feel about it - gentle rolling hills, and of course, as we knew had to happen sooner or later, sheep:
What was less expected was the appearance of some incredibly tame peacocks, including this one, who decided he was most definitely going to `shake his tailfeathers' at us.
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