If your New Zealand travels thus far have been all about wilderness and lonesome, one-horse towns, rock into Wellington for a big-city hit. Art-house cinema, hip bars, designer boutiques, live music rooms and late-night coffee shops – it’s all in ‘Windy Welly’. Wellingtonians are geographically isolated and look inwards for inspiration, a habit that fosters a red-hot arts scene. Everyone here seems to be in a band and looks a tad depleted, like they smoke and drink too much and spend their time molesting canvasses and scribbling poetry….except for the politicians of course. NZ’s capital city manages to strike a balance between creative exuberance and an institutional mindset crucial to the day-to-day running of the country. The city is neither altogether bohemian, nor overloaded with bureaucratic stuffed shirts.
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The Wairarapa is the large slab of land east and northeast of Wellington, beyond the craggy Tararua Range and Rimutaka Range. Named after Lake Wairarapa (Shimmering Waters), a shallow 8000-hectare lake, the region has traditionally been a frenzied hotbed of sheep-farming – there are more than three million sheep within 16km of Masterton (we counted ’em). More recently some brilliant wineries have sprung up around Martinborough and Greytown (Pinot Noir is the speciality), which has turned the region into a decadent weekend escape for Wellingtonians. A vigorous foodie culture has evolved alongside the wineries and restored B&B cottages. All this boozy hubbub doesn’t seem to impress some long-term locals, who remain bound to Bible Belt mentality – highway billboards warn, ‘You have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory.’
With wide, people-free beaches and water just begging to be swum in (depending on your constitution), the Kapiti Coast acts as a summer playground and suburban extension for Wellingtonians. The region takes its moniker from Kapiti Island, a bird and marine sanctuary 5km offshore from Paraparaumu.