New country bumpkin

While I try to pretend to be unfazed by the chap in cowboy boots, pink corduroy coat and a top hat, deep down I'm gawping and can't help but find him extraordinary looking. The reality is that two years of life in Icebreaker-and-jeans-clad rural National Park, with no traffic lights, roundabout or cinema for 50km has turned me into a country bumpkin, wide-eyed at the bright lights of the city. I run around the shops ooh-ing and aah-ing at the variety of stuff, even though when I lived in the same city 2 years ago I found the range rather poor. The combination of city traffic, rain, neon signs and traffic lights on arrival in Wellington even had me accidentally run a red light - one of those rural idiots who should just not be allowed to drive in the city...