Tournaments excepted, the N.Z.U.S.A. Congress at Curious Cove is the sole opportunity which N.Z. university life provides for students of all colleges, together with a handful of Australian visitors, to mingle, meet, and talk. Congress has an advantage over tournament in that no set standard of attainment is demanded as a prerequisite to participation. The only requirements—and these are merely desirable, not compulsory—a body that can endure ten days' exposure to a Marlborough midsummer sun, vocal chords that will not crack under incessant song (the repertoire ranges from "Adeste Fideles" to "Roger of Kildare"), a constitution capable of halving its slumber quota without undue hardship, and most of all a mind not so submerged in the specialised rut of its university course as to be totally indifferent to everything that does not return an immediate dividend in the examination room. Most students, by definition, should possess all these qualifications; they should consider very carefully whether they can afford to miss the next congress.

Firstly, Curious Cove itself. The most overripe adjectives of the traditional steamship company's World Cruise advertisement can scarcely do the spot justice. "And so as we glide away from picturesque Picton, down the limpid waters of lovely Queen Charlotte Sound, jewel of the South Pacific—" etcetera. To abandon the Fitzpatrick manner for the more economical style of the A.A. Handbook, Curious Cove is eight miles by water from Picton, and inaccessible by land. The camp was built about 1943 as a convalescent station for the R.N.Z.A.F. The cabins are comfortable, commodious and soundly constructed; the most testing moment occurred one early morning last February when 54 people in a four-man hut all gallantly attempted to reach top C—the building shivered and survived. The food is good, and there are no domestic chores associated with Congress—all kitchen work for the last three years has been done by a squad of C.U.C. girls. If overcome by such inertia that you feel incapable of making your bed (usually one blanket), you can always (a) sleep in the open (b) bring a sleeping bag (c) dispense with sleep anyway.