New Zealand: Windy Welly and the Wines of Napier

It is remarkable how human behaviour mirrors that of sheep. What the first does, the remainder follow. As we rolled off the ship - first off behind the trucks - I nearly went wrong only for every other Herbert to follow. Descending from the ship into Wellington, having been surrounded by relative solitude in the South Island, it is hard to regain the focus required when driving in a city. Traffic lights, other cars and even people have been pretty rare encounters over the last few weeks.

The Westpac Stadium the first to greet you. Steeped in Lions history and playing host to many All Blacks' games gone by - this filled me with excitement. I can’t really explain why. After all, it is just a building, I can’t even see the pitch! I suppose it is the story in my mind that is the powerful creator of excitement - the knowledge of what has happened there and seeing it in the flesh enabled me to envisage what it must have been like the day Sam Warburton captained the famous red shirt in this rugby loving city.

Wellington is a seriously cool fragment of this country. Think shoreditch but City wide. Eclectic vintage clothing stores line most shopping parades, skate shops and surf stores plug the gaps. Pedestrian streets cater for the best baristas to do their thing as locals cruise the streets with portable coffee cups.

The main draw for shopping - Cuba Street. Colourful boutique shops are numerous and the masses fit the artsy feel of the place. Having blown two weeks budget - the pools were calling us to get out of the shopping district. A brisk walk along the impeccably modern waterfront - we found our way to the Wellington Pools. At the head of the harbour - this recreation centre is a state of the art example of what a leisure centre back home should look like.

It is hardly surprising that one of the most active populations in the world are afforded some of the best facilities. In every town we have passed, however small, has a sports centre at its core. Be that a rugby club, a recreation centre of a fantastic pool - New Zealand has got the art of sticking sport at its epicenter bang on! Perhaps that is the answer - why they have the most prolific and successful team on the planet, transcending all sports.

These pools - unique. A gym overlooking the splashing swimmers, spa goers in the hot tubs over looking the breaking waves - this all glass piece of architecture just out in the bay. There can’t be too many places in the world where a leisure centre is a suggested highlight - but having visited this place I can firmly see why.

Refreshed, endorphin filled and ready for some food - we headed into town. Burger Liquor was the choice and a good one at that. Well priced and with a cool vibe the place was packed. A fine feed and blessed with awesome company - we finished the night with a drink at Wellington’s coolest roof top bar ‘Dirty Little Secret’. After a long day of exploring this city - the pod was calling for a bit of shut eye.

The patter of rainfall woke us early. The masts of yachts swaying in the wind behind the van and the roaring of the wind through the less than right seals on the windscreen - it was time to rise.

Rainy days are perfect in Wellington for the Te Papa museum is truly outstanding. Being rather keen on the outdoors, anything sport related and activities which least resemble museums - I was rather reluctant to head to this establishment. However, with rain at play - it was the most sensible course of action.

Built into the coastline of the city and set across 5 floors - Te Papa is home to some of the most wonderfully intriguing artifacts, exhibitions and displays. The first floor is dedicated to the tectonic activity and history of the country. Fascinating models and displays pay tribute to past events as well as helping to educate people on the threats these events pose. Walking through earthquake simulators and creating your own tsunamis - a thing of beauty and a real highlight!

Upstairs and equally as amusing - the history of the Maori culture. It is becoming increasingly apparent, the world over, that the worlds people have been interfered with, hassled and cultures destroyed by The English. I have always wondered why my grandmothers hatred for the English is so rife and deep routed. But - having read and engaged with the history of the Africans, the Americans and now the Maoris - it is more obvious that the English took advantage of weaker tribes men the world over - to conquer land masses which most appealed to them. An arrogance, an ignorance - history might just be repeating itself in the political situation we find ourselves in today.

In any case, in the 1800s it is stated that the English arrived on these shores and enforced Maoris, who could not speak their language to give up their land. The vocabulary used was to give up the ‘sovereignty’ of the land - a concept alien to the tribesmen. As such, with much confusion the Maoris ceased their land - thinking they were achieving much higher stakes of the British monarchy. Alas, they were not and in a sad state of events the population of Maori reduced to 5% in NZ.

Unlike many other parts of the world, where racial segregation and inequality continues to simmer beneath the surface - there is an acknowledgment here that kiwi culture and heritage lies at the feet of the Maori. Thus, street names are in Maori, place names are relatable to the folk tales of their culture and the language is being brought back in to schools. Furthermore, arguably the most iconic part of kiwi culture is rugby and their world famous All Black team - just have a think how they show their heritage on a. global stage before each and every game? As with many other facets of kiwi life, New Zealand is demonstrating to the world how wrongs can be righted.

Having touched in with some of New Zealand’s cultural and tectonic history - it was north to Napier. The drive there is pretty sensational. Cruising through the finest vineyards in New Zealand and alongside the coast, it is hard not to stop on route. However, when you reach the final destination, Napier is a little beauty. An Art Deco town, like a dwarfed Brighton welcomed us for the night. Pulled up on the pebble beach, we did the customary walk along the coastal path into town. Locals push strollers and don their latest Lululemon gear to do their daily run. Youngsters gather in the coastal car park, taking in the setting sun whilst they chew the cud of the day. Fish and chips galore and resembling an upmarket seaside town - if they exist - the walk round the town itself was brief. There wasn’t really too much too the place - but what there was, we liked.

Lonely planet suggested picking up some fish and chips and enjoying them by the beach. That’s what we did. Suffice to say, whoever was responsible for writing this chapter clearly didn’t encounter the army of seagulls we did. The wretched things flooded in and wouldn’t let us be until they had a bite of the cherry. Like a game of what’s the time Mr Wolf they continued to edge closer. Despite the setting sun - these little feathered rats made the occasion a little less enjoyable. Fish was fresh as though and the chips top notch if your prepared to fight the aerial battle!

Morning and coffee calling, we took the little trip to the Marina, north of downtown. Whislt locals stripped out of their wetsuits following their morning swim and others walked purposely with their loyal hounds, we headed for the cafe. No wetsuit prevented us from being too active in the land of the fish! Milk/Honey cafe was rated as top dollar on Trip Advisor, so that is where we had to go of course. Surrounded by high brow business meetings and farmers trying to shift their livestock, we felt we might just have navigated off the tourist path. The perfect flat white and a little smoothy had us well set up for the rest of the day. Make sure you make the trip here when the arty streets and cool vibes of Napier drag you here; to this little portion of the south seas.