Here's a funny story. I was touring in NZ in late December-January '96-'97. Though I didn't want to camp, I shlepped camping gear with me because I was afraid that due to peak travel season there, there might be a night or two when "backpackers" or other inexpensive accommodations might not be available. BTW, I had toured in NZ once previously, mid-nov to mid-dec, and accommodations were never a problem at that time. Anyway, there was indeed one night in early January when I was in the middle of nowhere along the East Cape when I had no choice but to camp. I went to a motor camp and set up my tent. Shortly after my tent was up, I noticed several folks taking down their tents and departing. It was almost sunset! I walked up to some folks taking down their tent and ask them why they were leaving. They told me that cyclone Drina was headed toward us. Well, it was too late for me to leave and besides, I was exhausted. I listened to the forecast on a radio and it sounded like things would be OK until 9 or 10am the next morning. I got up well before dawn the next day, quickly packed up, and headed north in the darkness (with flashing warning lights front and rear) to the nearest town with a backpackers. I made good time and checked into the place by 9am. The cyclone had slowed during the night and it didn't get bad until the afternoon. There were several other cyclists holed up there for a couple of nights. After the skies finally, cleared, I set off with another cyclone cyclist refugee from Japan and we fought a horrible headwind the next couple of days that Drina had left in her wake.