``When I moved here in the 1970s we used to run to the window if we heard a car. Now we run to a window if we don't hear a car, because it means something has happened on the Crown Range.''
As Curtis locked the gate a car swerved into the driveway.
``Do you remember me?'' a woman shouted.
``I'm Julie Pasco - you played at my wedding in the old Wanaka Town Hall in 1992. You had all the guests doing a barn dance and they still talk about it today. I brought my 17-year-old son to your folk festival here last year and he loved it, and this weekend I'm bringing both him and my 87-year-old mother to your concert.''
Mrs Pasco pointed to her mother Maire Pasco, who was getting out of the passenger side and whose face lit up when she recognised Curtis from more than 20 years ago.
``I've got a big fan base in that age group, 80-year-olds and primary school children,'' Curtis said dryly.
For the next few minutes Julie Pasco and Curtis reminisced about the old Wanaka Town Hall and its understated beauty.
Understated is a great way to describe Curtis.
Born in northwest London, the young Curtis got his A-levels.
Instead of going to university he went straight into a job as a French, German and Spanish translator for a bank, ``but it didn't suit me at all''.
He worked for a few export companies. Curtis shared a flat with an Australian who used to travel the world for six months a year ``and I decided I wanted to do that''.
He had met his future wife in a North London local Youth Hostel Association group a few years before, where he had organised and led weekend expeditions around the UK.
In the late 1960s Curtis and his now wife Kay spent time in Iceland, including four seasons working for adventurer Dick Philips leading 14-day treks across the country's interior, Europe and Israel.
In 1970 the couple migrated to Australia, where Curtis first started performing at folk festivals in Perth. After six months they drove to Alice Springs, where he started a folk club and ran two folk festivals while living at Tennant Creek for two years.
Another season guiding and trekking in Iceland followed a two-month holiday in New Zealand, where they ``were really taken with the mountains''.
He was offered a partnership in the Iceland company ``but by then we couldn't get back to the southern hemisphere quick enough''.
He landed a job with the Youth Hostel Association running the summer overflow hostel in Dunedin followed by two weeks managing the Tekapo YHA before being sent to manage what was a very small youth hostel in Wanaka's Upton St.
``When we arrived in Wanaka in 1975, I thought it was paradise. We'd only been in town about an hour and I walked up to the only hotel in town, the Hotel Corporation hotel, which was really high-class, and asked if they had any jobs. The assistant manager asked if I could steward. I said yes, and he said `start tonight' and I was the cocktail barman for the next three years.''
After three months in Wanaka, Curtis opened a horse-trekking business in Cardrona. Cardrona Alpine Resort founder John Lee offered him a cottage ``as long as I ran the school bus service and I did for the next 30 years''.
By 1998 he was the school bus driver, rural mail contractor for the whole district, cocktail bartender at night, horse trek guide (if there were any bookings), a contract gardener cutting holiday home lawns, singing at schools, folk festivals and concerts as well as raising three boys.
``We never intended to stay in Cardrona, but after John opened the skifield he needed our cottage to accommodate his staff. But he sold us the 10-acre block where we live now and we've been here ever since.''
Curtis' first big musical break was in 1982.
``I'd written four or five songs about Cardrona and I thought I'd like to do an album, so I hired a studio in Christchurch. The main song was Gin and Raspberry, which was about the Cardrona gold mine and it's since been recorded in America, Canada and Britain and Germany.
``I've been told it was probably New Zealand's best-selling folk album ever.''
He toured with the late Phil Garland (often referred to as the godfather of New Zealand folk music) for several years in the 1980s.
He met Graham Wardrop, acclaimed as New Zealand's finest finger-style guitarist, at a folk festival in 1988.
``I don't know why, but we just clicked. We teamed up to do recordings and concerts together and we've been friends now for nearly 30 years.''
Where the Peaks Meet the Skies would probably be his last album.
``I can't afford to do it anymore. This one will cost me about $5000 and I'll be hard-pushed to ever pay it back because CD prices keep going down. I'm going to keep performing as long as I can, but I have a bit of arthritis in my hands now and my guitar-playing is definitely going downhill, although audiences say they don't notice it. But I do and it throws me out.''
Mountains have been an inspiration for Curtis' music and mountaineering has been a part of his life for decades - he spent his 70th birthday on the summit of Mt Aspiring.
In 1997 he made his first trip to the Himalayas, trekking to Everest base camp with Adventure Consultants, and has returned to the Himalayas regularly since.
In 2004 he began his love affair with the Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan, a place he had wanted to visit for some years. He now takes walking and cultural tours there every year.
``It's still Tibetan Buddhist, really without the Chinese occupation and influence. They don't care whether you're Muslim, Christian or whatever, so long as you're a good person. The Way the World Should Be - that's one of the songs on my new album that I wrote for Bhutan.''
At the age of 73, Curtis is showing no signs of slowing down. On Wednesday he drove to Christchurch for a Thursday night concert and this weekend he flies to Bhutan.
His 2018 bird-watching tour is already waitlisted.
In September he will embark on a North Island singing tour, returning in October for the Cardrona Folk Festival.
Curtis says he will keep running the festival but with everything else he does, he ``actually wouldn't mind if someone else took it over''.
