At some stage, Alan Duff must have decided French environs were more conducive to writing than Hawke's Bay's.
It's a shame. I missed the chance to meet the man when he was here.
I visited his house once. He wasn't home.
As a younger reporter, I was asked to write a feature on his $3 million Ian Athfield-designed whare in Havelock North. Listed for a handsome sum, it was something. I was warned and sworn to secrecy by the real estate agent marketing the place. "No one can know whose home this is you're writing about."
That was easy. At that time I had no idea myself. The penny dropped when I entered the living room and spied a Duff family portrait.