By Carl Wyant
“Sceptical?” piped up the old-timer. Of course I’m flamin’ sceptical ye addlepated mudfish!” –
“Aye, but it wasn’t always so. I was a dour and solemn presbyterian from birth onwards, and bar the whisky, gossip columns, loose floozies and muckraking, a devout one too! But all this changed suddenly in the winter of ’94, twenty years ago, when Auckland was struck by drought.