Wellington

Blimey, Wellington is a lively little city. I appreciate that we arrived on the afternoon of the last Friday before Christmas but the bars and cafés in the city centre were heaving. Probably no more so than they would be at home but after the relative tranquility of Taupo it was all the more jarring.

If I wasn't sure if the term 'Black Eye Friday' had made it to the Southern Hemisphere before we hit town last night I am now - a bar fight broke out in one if the watering holes and then continued out the door and into the harbour area with the whole bar* emptying out to witness the spectacle. It was mint! 

But, this excitement aside, I've decided that cities are perhaps New Zealand's Achilles heel. They are nice, clean and have stunning backdrops but that's about it. Maybe that is enough for some, but when you compare them to the historical treasures of their European counterparts they inevitably come up short. I could be accused of demonstrating my European bias but it's a difficult feeling to shake.

But I suppose you don't come to NZ for the architecture or the human history. You come here for the stunning scenery. Cities provide an opportunity to restock, take some time out and to reorientate. And maybe that's their purpose?

That's not to say that Wellington, the countries capital, doesn't have a lot going for it - it's perfectly pleasant to spend a few hours wandering around the  harbour area, browsing the shops and maybe sipping a pint of craft beer. If you can find a spot out if the wind that is. And there is always the museums, parks and art galleries if you are that way inclined.

Me? Give me the great outdoors anyday of the week. Which is good because tomorrow we pack up and head over to the less populated South Island. I can't wait - I've had enough of urban life for the time being.

* most of the male contingent with the exception of the author!