Deciding at the last minute to attend a lunchtime address by Lord Monckton, the demonised climate-change sceptic, I hurriedly travelled to Auckland from my distant holiday house.
I arrived at the Northern Club with minutes to spare, leaving no time to change from my faded jeans and somewhat bright blue
Nike trainers, apparel verboten under the club's dress code.
Discreetly entering the dining room, packed with the usual soberly attired attendees, I hoped to find an unobtrusive place at the back of the room. To my horror, I was led to the head table to join the guest of honour, Lord Monckton, and local dignitaries, including Don Brash and Dame Rosanna Meo.
The Lord accepted my dress apology with grace - possibly a case of one eccentric recognising another. For his part, Monckton displayed a large silver antique crucifix on his shirtfront, unusual ornamentation when combined with a silk Hermes tie and bespoke clothing.
I was tempted to ask him about the Christian icon, which appeared at odds adorning the chest of a scholar and former journalist whose lucid rationality on climate matters would have led me to presume he would follow in the philosophical footsteps of Christopher Hitchens, noted for stating "religion poisons everything".
