As those of you that have moved overseas will know, about three weeks out from D-Day you start doing a series of lasts. Last time you’ll see so-and-so. Last bus ride somewhere. Last Crunchie bar being guzzled in the depature loungue in Auckland. Fitting in with this theme, last Friday night was the last time in a while that the four Keenan girls would go out in Wellington. Joined by some other friends, we had a very fun and Wellington-esque night out. There was Indian food. There was the Big Kumara. There was dancing. And of course, there was karaoke.
There were also sightings of the Blanket Man, and subsequent asking each other “Doesn’t he get cold?” The bucket fountains also got a visit.
We also hung out with the plastic tuatara on Cuba Mall. Is it just me, or does he look incredibly smug?
Last of all, there were kebabs. It wouldn’t have been a proper Wellington night out if it had ended any other way, I suppose.
We also hung out with the plastic tuatara on Cuba Mall. Is it just me, or does he look incredibly smug?
Last of all, there were kebabs. It wouldn’t have been a proper Wellington night out if it had ended any other way, I suppose. 
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