Elisabeth Easther talks to the head of of tourism at Weta Workshop.
I was born in Suffolk and when I was two my parents moved to Germany to teach the kids of the forces posted there, which meant we went on some amazing holidays. We had an old Austin Maxi and we'd drive overnight and wake up in Pisa or somewhere in Greece.
It was about the journey rather than the destination. The special excitement of being woken early in morning, being put in the back seat in a sleeping bag and the anticipation of waking up in a new destination. Where are we? What can we find to eat? Can we speak the language?
We did lots of camping holidays. I remember going up to Scotland and camping in Glencoe in a really rustic campsite. Walking up Ben Nevis but being too young to make it to the top and being really upset that my brother did. Or going swimming in the hills above Glasgow where they've got these little lochs, and we'd dive into every one we saw. They're freezing even in the middle of summer and we'd have a competition to see who could stay in longer.
When I was 12 I went on my first ski school trip and I fell in love with skiing. In European ski resorts like 3 Valleys you can get lost, and you have to ski with your passport because you can ski into another country. As I got older my parents would say "see you later" and I'd set off with my Walkman and my bum bag.