Saying somefinn stupid

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We been in chilled-out Byron Bay since Thursday enjoying the hot weather (we're nearly in Queensland), fantastic beaches and rediscovering Mexican food.

The most amazing thing happened yesterday (Saturday). There's a rock festival on this weekend (it sold out months ago so we couldn't get tickets) called "Splendour in the grass" but everyone else was there so we were on a pretty much deserted beach all day. As the sun started to go down we set off up the beach for a walk (spotting skinny-dipping nudists along the way but that's a different story) and then...

Tim: "Look who that is"
Emma: "Oh my god"
Tim: "It's not is it?"
Emma: "Oh my god"
Tim: "No it'll just be some random Aussie guy"
Emma: "Oh my god"
Tim: "Go and ask him"
Emma: "Oh my god"
Tim: "Emma, pull yourself together and go and ask him, and be polite"
Emma: "I can't, my legs won't move"

(a minute goes by whilst the topic alternates between "it is" and "it isn't" before we set off up the beach in pursuit of target bloke and his family)

Tim: "Are you who we think you are?"
Neil Finn: "That depends who you think I am."
Emma: "Oh my god"
Tim: "Are you...Neil Finn?"
Emma: "Oh my god"
Neil Finn: "Yes. Are you here to see the show?"

(Emma nearly faints. The Finn Brothers are playing the concert Sunday night so this is definitely him.)

Tim: "No, we couldn't get tickets"
Neil Finn: "Too bad, if it was our show I'd get you in"
Tim: "We saw the show in Sydney...and in Liverpool last year"
(general discussion about when show was last November, Neil apologising for not coming out to sign autographs that night, visiting Te Awamutu etc.)

(whilst the above conversation is proceeding Emma starts babbling about being a huge fan, liking his music, his hometown being proud of him, NZ being proud of him, Emma being proud of him, the world being proud of him etc. etc.)

(Tim takes photos of Emma with her idol. Emma says "Oh my god" a few more times and then we let him carry on with his walk up the beach)

(After a few minutes we realise we forgot to ask for an autograph, so cut to Tim racing half a kilometre up the beach, journal and pen in hand, apologising for acting like a crazed stalker and obtaining autograph right on the front page of our travel diary)

...

Sunday morning

(Emma still gibbering and babbling)

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Photos

Emma and some bloke
("Oh my god")