The story of a place. Whangaroa. Hakaroa. Akaroa. But my tale begins millions of years before names, when two mighty volcanoes rose from the sea. Flows of lava spilled down their flanks, forming land. Over time my fire ceased. Wind and water ground down my vast volcanoes. The rising ocean flooded my extinct calderas, forming the harbours of Akaroa and Lyttelton. My island became a peninsula, connected to Te Wai Pounamu by rocks and sands washed down from the Southern Alps. The land and the sea The essence of Akaroa Many have told my story. But only one has distilled the essence of this place to make poems that run over your tongue. Songs that sing in your mouth. Akaroa Craft Distillery - Tales of the harbour told in gin