My mum sent me a "Royal Tour Survival Kit" one week out from the Duke and Duchess of Sussex arriving in the country.

I didn't wear the tiara or string of pearls but the lemon biscuits and peanut butter energy balls came in handy during the four-day royal itinerary.

The crowd in Wellington was by far the most vocal with thousands screaming and cheering when Prince Harry and Meghan arrived.

Media coverage of these public walkabouts tends to focus on the hysteria, like the girls who are left crying and shaking after meeting the royal couple and can hardly string two sentences together in interviews afterwards.

What you don't often hear about is the kids who've lined up for eight hours, buzzy bees and personal hand written letters at the ready, only for the couple to walk past them.

Obviously Prince Harry and Meghan can't speak to everyone in the crowd but the tears of disappointment streaming down young faces is rather heartbreaking.

When I went through security to board my flight from Wellington to Auckland for the next leg of the tour, my hand luggage got held back because of a "strange object" the x-ray machine picked up. It was my microphone stand.

The flight was packed with international media.

A videographer I was working with overheard them chatting about a bus scheduled to take them from Auckland Airport to Sky City and we managed to hitch a ride.

We woke up to rain and as it hammered the top of a shuttle taking us to the next engagement beside Carol Whaley Native Bush, media on board joked about making a pact to skip it and stay dry.

In reality of course there was no chance of that. Especially not when the glamourous couple were throwing gumboots!

The Duchess managed to navigate the muddy field much more gracefully than me.

I was among several other journalists slipping and sliding around as we roamed aimlessly to find cellphone reception to send our stories through.

By the end of it my black ankle boots had turned brown and by satin trousers had mud sprayed up them. That evening in my hotel room I took to my shoes with makeup removal wipes without much luck.

For me, the highlight of the whirlwind trip was the final day spent in Rotorua.

Firstly, it wasn't raining.

But more importantly the pōwhiri at Te Papaiouru Marae was absolutely outstanding. I've been welcomed onto a few maraes growing up in New Zealand but I've never experienced anything like this.

The strength of about 250 voices sent chills up my spine. I watched as a huge smile spread across Meghan's face when the ceremony got into full swing.

Prince Harry's pronunciation of Te Reo Māori during his address in the meeting house was impressive. He did a better job of it than a lot of Kiwis I know could.

One of the glorious things about working in radio is early morning live crosses can be done in your pyjamas while tucked up in a hotel bed sipping on a cup of tea. I was particularly grateful for this when I was asked to do a 5.13am slot the morning after the tour had finished.