Having written about various parts of the world over the last year it’s time to write about our place, Wellington, New Zealand. It’s where I was born and where I have lived since.
After every overseas trip or holiday there has always been a feel of welcoming as I have flown into Wellington airport sandwiched, as it is, between the harbour and the rugged southern coast.
The landings always have that added excitement that comes from the wind – either blustery northerly or persistent southerly. It is part and parcel of living in a city on the edge of Cook Strait – where wind funnels between the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean.
Wellington is a city built around a harbour and the harbour defines the city. The tall buildings of the city centre stand close to the water on flat ground while behind them and beside them houses are stacked up the hills like boxes, desperately clinging on, living in fear that a strong gust of wind will dislodge them.
The best place to appreciate the scope of Wellington is from the top of Mount Victoria. It’s only a 10 minute drive from the city centre but the panoramic views are spectacular. North across the harbour to the Hutt Valley with mountain ranges as the backdrop, or south and east across Evans Bay to the airport, the south coast and beyond that – Antarctica.
Yesterday evening I took my trusty Nikon to the Mount Victoria lookout and tried to do Wellington justice.