After two weeks travelling around the country in a campervan that looks and drives like a pregnant fridge, I can report with certainty that National won.
I'm writing this just before the polling booths close, so if I'm wrong, it means I have totally misjudged the mood of a nation. I do have a history of reading people the wrong way. I believe my wife when she says "that's fine". Often it is not and apparently I should have noticed. Tone is everything.
I've been interviewing voters for the telly in all sorts of spots. I consider myself the only election researcher polling voters face to face. My sample has been low - around 10 people per day. The people with the calculators and furrowed brows at Colmar Brunton would probably have my margin of error at around 80 per cent.
I found Emma in the politics section at Unity Books in Wellington. She'd been listening to talkback radio and lamented how uninformed people are. One caller said Phil Goff had never had a job; she told me with pride he was once at the meatworks. Only in New Zealand could a career at the meatworks be a political badge of honour.
In Opotiki they were not so much undecided as can't-be-bothered: turnout in East Coast was 65 per cent last time. That's low.