It was cheap, nasty, and the height of discomfort. Back in 1995, the overnight train from Wanganui to Auckland was a nine-hour endurance test that included grumpy conductors, killer leg cramps and frequent bouts of motion sickness.
Needless to say, the three of us barely slept a minute of that trip. But we didn't care. My best friends and I were travelling to our first concert: Pearl Jam's epic two-night stint at Auckland's Mt Smart Supertop, a gig that has gone down as a generation-defining event for those in their mid-30s.
We'd spent months convincing our nervous parents, and even longer saving our pocket money, but when Eddie Vedder and the boys arrived on stage at the height of their grunge superpowers, bringing out Tim and Neil Finn for that wine-swilling encore, it was worth everything we'd gone through.
It was a milestone moment for me. I loved that concert so much - not just the performance, but the anticipation involved in getting to the venue, talking to fellow fans outside the show, buying T-shirts and moshing for the first time - that the only overseas travelling I've done since then has been to see bands or attend festivals.
