Tag Archives: Cityscape

Wending our way to Windy Wellington

4 Replies

Wednesday 25 February 2026 – Our next stop would be Wellington, the capital city of New Zealand, which is some four hours’ drive from Napier. Because they’d been such excellent hosts and made our stay at 415 Marine Parade so comfortable and convivial, it was almost a shame to be leaving; but we had to move on. Because we’d drunk quite a lot of theirs, we gave them a bottle of one of our favourite gins, Drumshanbo Gunpowder Irish Gin. Perhaps it might be enough to get Esther back on the gin….

It was a long drive, but a pleasant one.  Since the weather continued to be wonderful, the scenery was, of course, lovely, as is typical of the North Island, particularly as we approached Wellington.

Napier is in Hawkes bay, which is world famous for its wines. We passed several vineyards, which, unlike those seen in Europe, are level, rather than being on a slope. The plants also seem to have a much denser leafiness than is familiar in Europe. Some of the vines were in their nappies (Nappy Valley…?)

actually netting to keep the birds off the ripened grapes. Hawkes Bay is also, according to Pete the gannet driver, the fruit bowl of New Zealand. We passed lots of apple orchards, for example, and some kiwi, fig and olive plantations, too.

We also passed the first wind farm that we’d seen on our travels here. Our road wended its way between the turbines, which was a bit surreal.

We had a serendipitous encounter with a charming village not too far south of Napier, in our quest for a coffee stop. Jane noticed that there was a cafe in Norsewood, just off State Highway 2. I thought that the name might just be, well, just this name, you know? But I was wrong – the village is actually the site of a Norwegian settlement from 1872. We parked up in front of a very quirky building

 

and Jane went into the Information Centre

where a couple of ladies were on duty. She asked them what the story was about Norsewood and they both started to tell her, each interrupting and correcting the other, which was a comedy moment. Long story short, that period in New Zealand’s history saw a decline in people from Britain immigrating and so the government turned to the Scandinavian countries for a source of hardy people who were familiar with forest management – the area was called the “Seventy Mile Bush” but was actually dense forest. So it was that Norsewood came into being on the back of Norwegian immigrants. About 20 years ago a heritage museum was set up to celebrate the history of the place, and the village itself retains some Scandinavian quirks.

There’s also a replica of a Nordic Stave Church. Those of you who followed our Arctic trip will know of the delight with which we discovered these gorgeous churches as we travelled in the Norwegian midlands, and, indeed back in Oslo. This replica was tiny, and not actually constructed at all like a real stave church, but it looked the part from the outside.

It was part of a garden called “Johanna’s World” which is also dedicated to the memory of these early Norwegian settlers. After taking a coffee in the very pleasant cafe, we exited Norsewood (via Odin Street and Hengist Street, incidentally) and continued towards Wellington.

We had chosen our route to Wellington because it took us near the Hutt Valley. Living there is someone whom I last saw in 2006, when we both attended the same music summer school, played in the same orchestra and drank with the same disreputable members of the brass section. Through the tendrils of Facebook we had stayed in the sort of light contact that platform is actually extremely good for, and Andy had got in touch when he saw on FB that we’d be visiting New Zealand; so we arranged to meet. One is never quite certain how these things will turn out, but it was a pleasure to meet him again and find out what had led him from the UK to become a resident on the other side of the globe. He and his partner, Teressa, suggested that we take lunch in Petone, on the outskirts of Wellington, and so we had a great time over a meal in Speight’s and a subsequent drink in the Sprig and Fern. Like our encounter with Jess and Ian, this social aspect was an excellent leavening of the travelling routine.

And so we came to Wellington, where we’re staying at the (very posh) Bolton Hotel. Our accommodation has some kitchen facilities, including a sight to gladden my heart.

These things are important, you know.

The hotel had included some clear, unambiguous and easy-to-follow instructions as to how to use the washing machine, with pictures an’ everyfink, the result of which was nevertheless that we failed satisfactorily to complete our laundry before it was time for bed, so we left it, in the hope that it would have unlocked itself by morning, and got our heads down.

Thursday 26 – The machine had not unlocked itself by morning, but switching it off showed it who was boss and we were able to get our clean and really quite nearly dry laundry out, thank goodness.

Our only scheduled activity for the day wasn’t due until the evening (and you’ll have to wait until the next entry in these pages to find out more about it), so, the ironing done (because our seeking of enjoyment is relentless) we had the bulk of the day to our own devices. Yesterday’s fine weather had rather deserted us,

so we donned rain jackets and we went for a walk. Obviously.

We hadn’t got a huge amount of time to spare, so Jane had mapped out a route that took us round local sights – the government buildings, cathedrals, the waterfront. In general, the area we were in was what you might call typical capital city architecture.

The main parliament building is quite an impressive edifice

faced with a rather fine grey marble. Next to it is another government building, called “the Beehive” whose form is reminiscent of a skep, a traditional woven form of beehive. The building houses the offices of the Prime Minister and other government ministers.

 

Opposite the Beehive is a lawn with sculptures which look like a banana, a mushroom and a carrot

but which are, apparently, supposed to represent a bird’s head, an altar and a canoe. No, really. There is symbolism in this choice: the location is near where the original (Polynesian) canoes landed, where an altar of stones was built. Birds are seen as messengers or links between heaven and earth. So, moving swiftly on….

The next building we passed looked somewhat churchy

but is the government library. Just beyond it is a real church

the Roman Catholic Cathedral. Its interior is rather restrained for a Catholic church

and in a side chapel there was one of those Adorations going on

so we left quietly so as not to get told off again.

Not too far from the Catholic Cathedral is the Anglican one, the new St. Paul’s, which is a vast edifice with rather Art Deco overtones.

 

The interior is light

and has several impressive features:  the mosaic at the far end;

some lovely stained glass;

and a very nice bit of carving in the marble, a tribute to the building industry of New Zealand.

Also, up a side corridor, is the Lady Chapel, which is very handsome, with a magnificent scent of the wood it’s made from.

It was originally built in 1905 as St. Paul’s church in Paraparaumu (more of this town later in an entirely unrelated way), and moved here in 1990.

Having seen the new St. Paul’s we then walked around the corner to the old St. Pauls, which has definite overtones of stave church in its overall appearance.

A board outside makes quite the claim

which is

absolutely justified. It’s not huge, but it is magnificent. The stained glass here is lovely, too

Our next target was the waterfront, to get to which one passes the railway station.

The walk took us past what was very clearly the working part of the waterfront towards the more gentrified part, with some attractive buildings

and water-based sculptures.

Some kids were disporting themselves in kayaks, playing a game which appeared to involve them shouting aggressively at each other and the tops of their voices

and several of them had taken to pedal carts and appeared to be racing each other.

There’s a decent view over the harbour towards Petone, where we’d been the day before, and Lowry Bay.

There’s a lagoon called Whairepo Lagoon, where the Wellington rowing club has its HQ. It’s encompassed by two bridges, the Love Lock bridge

and, rather more interestingly on the other side, the “City to Sea” Bridge

which we went to investigate, but not before having a spot of lunch, at a decent eatery called St. Johns. There’s a rather intriguing entry to the bridge on the left hand side as you see above,

and the whole thing is the basis for 1993 artwork by Para Matchitt. There’s a lot of it, and it’s difficult to capture photographically, but I hope this gives you the idea.

Our walk back to the hotel took us past the Wellington Central Library, with its striking supporting pillars. There’s a lot of work going on around there, but I bet it’ll be lovely when it’s finished.

Back at the hotel we had time for a cup of Twinings Finest Earl Grey before we had to strike out again, and I’ll tell you all about that…..some other time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taking a Deco at Napier

6 Replies

Monday 23 February 2026 – Astonishingly, our legs were up to the task of getting us out of bed and heaving us about as we packed and set up our departure on the next segment of our trip – destination Napier, the Art Deco city.  But we didn’t head off directly, as we had two things to do beforehand. The first was coffee and, handily, Waimarino’s railway station

has a cafe, which serves damn’ fine coffee.

Fortified, or at least caffeinated, we headed off in the general direction, not of Napier, but of Horopito, some fifteen minutes’ drive away, because we had one of those assignations that come about through serendipity. Bur first we had another couple of rail landmarks to explore, starting with the Makatote Viaduct, built between 1905 and 1908, and, at the time, the tallest viaduct in New Zealand – the last construction on the North Island trunk railway.

Just up the road from the viaduct is The Last Spike Memorial, which marks the location where the “last spike” was driven in 1908 for the completion of that North Island Trunk line.

Then, on to Horopito for our serendipity-led encounter. Here’s how it came about:

  • Forty years ago, I lived in Sweden, and, at the exceedingly popular Stockholm pub, the Tudor Arms, met Karin, with whom I have been in contact ever since.
  • Three years ago, Karin walked the Camino de Santiago from France to Spain. Not too long afterwards, Jane and I did the same, adding that significant activity to the bonds between us.
  • One year ago, Karin walked the Camino de Santiago again, and met Jess, who lives in Horopito.  Jess became part of Karin’s Camino Family, sustained through the medium of WhatsApp (as well as drinking and eating in Spain).
  • Two weeks ago, Jess hiked the Tongariro Crossing, just as we had a couple of days ago.

So the various tendrils of internet connectivity and social media reached out between three disparate pockets of people and Jess and we had agreed to meet. The original plan was to get together the evening after we had completed our Crossing, but we were utterly knackered, and thus completely incapable of socialising; and so we deferred until yesterday, which worked well, since Horopito is pretty much on the route between Waimarino and Napier.

We had a really lovely time meeting Jess and her husband Ian at their wonderful place, which is sufficiently far off the beaten track that the road to it is not quite sealed all the way. They showed us around some of their 15 acres, and particularly introduced us to their alpacas, which had been brought in as lawn managers (and had just been shorn).

After that delightful encounter, we headed off to Napier.  We passed a signpost to Horopito’s motor museum

but we’re not sure that it’s actually in operation as a museum, as such.

Heading east to Napier, there is a choice between two routes – the main road, which means heading back through Taurangi, or the direct route across the hills in between, a road which Ian had insisted we drive for the scenery and which our Tongariro guide Simon said he thought was “probably sealed” (i.e. tarmac as opposed to a dirt road). Since Tomtom agreed with this assessment, we headed along it. And we were very glad we did. The scenery was fantastic for the whole trip, which should have taken some three hours but ended up being nearer four, as we kept stopping to gawp at (and, of course, photograph) the landscapes we passed.

As we started, the scenery was typical, lovely, North Island landscapes.

The middle section of the route led through more mountainous surroundings.

which were heavily planted with Monterey pine trees, with clear evidence of both logging and replanting.

and then we emerged back into the less hilly and more pastoral plains of the east coast

before reaching Napier, approaching along Marine Parade.

Out accommodation was at 415 Marine Parade,

which is a very classy and well-run B&B. We were greeted by Tom, who showed us into our large and comfortable room and made sure we knew how things worked (including a very neat electronic access arrangement).

One thing we hadn’t appreciated until we arrived there was that the day we arrived, Sunday 22 February, was the last day of the 2026 Napier Art Deco Festival, a major event appreciating the history of the city and its recovery in the aftermath of the huge earthquake which hit it in February 1933. There had been thousands of people from all over the globe visiting the city as part of this celebration (more of which later) and we were a bit worried that we’d not be able to get in to any local restaurant. We were therefore pleased to be able to find a table at the restaurant next door, the Marine Bistro. There, we had a very tasty meal, and a lovely encounter with five ladies who had been celebrating as part of the Festival and who had dressed up to match the vibe of the entire thing,

After eating, we thought it would be a good idea to understand where we would need to meet for our planned activities in Napier, so we went for a walk. Obviously.

Downtown Napier is about a kilometre from 415 Marine Parade, and the walk gave us a chance to get our bearings, to see some of the art deco architecture for which the town in famed (much more of that later),

and a few other highlights, particularly vehicles which had clearly been part of the Festival activities,

and some of the attractive older (non-deco) buildings,

some of which were thoughtfully decorated.

That was yesterday; today we headed once again to downtown Napier to join a walking tour that was intended to give us a greater insight into the art deco history of the place. The meeting place was the headquarters of the Art Deco Trust, which hosts the walking tours which we were about to join, and also stages vintage car tours

with suitably-dressed drivers.

We started in a small theatre in the Trust’s building on Memorial Square

where our guide, Bev, gave us a short introductory speech before showing us a video about the 1933 earthquake which has caused the birth of the city as it is known today. Before the film, she showed a map comparing pre- and post-earthquake Napier, and the difference between the two is utter.

Here’s that map in more detail.

The town of Napier is mid-right in both maps; but in the pre-earthquake map you can see that there was was once a large lagoon north-west of the town. During the earthquake, the ground rose by as much as two metres, and the lagoon emptied out into the sea – a pretty cataclysmic event, which I simply hadn’t appreciated, and with a consequent loss of over 250 lives – New Zealand’s deadliest natural disaster. The video showed some of the scenes of the time.

You can see the boats now on dry land because of the rise in ground level, as well as the devastation caused by the earthquake – no electricity, no roads, no rails reached the town, and the water supply was cut, which meant that the fire brigade had no water supply to try to put out the inevitable fire which followed the shocks (they tried pumping sea water, but shingle jammed the pumps).  The final picture shows “Tin Town”, an array of 54 shops eventually set up under a tin roof in Clive Square to service the needs of citizens – actually New Zealand’s first shopping mall!

Bev went into some detail after the film about the heroic response of military and civil organisations to support the town in its hour of need. Particularly important was support from a naval ship. The death toll might have been much higher had the Royal Navy ship HMS Veronica not been in port at the time. Within minutes of the shock the Veronica had sent radio messages asking for help. The sailors joined survivors to fight the fires, rescue trapped people and help give them medical treatment. The Veronica’s radio was used to transmit news of the disaster to the outside world and to seek assistance.

The New Zealand government quickly realised that the Napier borough council would be overwhelmed with organising any rebuild and appointed two commissioners for this task, John Barton and Lachlan Bain Campbell. Between them, they shepherded through an astonishing building programme, which evaluated the different ways that buildings should be constructed in future to be earthquake-proof: brick buildings had collapsed and wooden ones had burnt, and reinforced concrete was selected as the material to be used as the basis for construction. Part of this lesson came from the Public Trust Office building,

a reinforced concrete edifice which was the only major building still standing after the earthquake.

The result is the town as it is today, or rather city – it was made a city in 1951. Rather than rebuild the Victorian-era structures that had been there, the modern styles of the day were adopted. Bev showed us examples of the four different architectural templates that were used in the rebuild:

Spanish mission; Prairie style; Deco Moderne; and Stripped Classical. These are these days grouped together under the “Art Deco” style label that applies to key Napier buildings. So then Bev led us on a tour of some of these buildings.

Central Fire Station
Municipal Theatre
Daily Telegraph offices. The Telegraph managed to print a daily bulletin after the earthquake
Demonstrating chamfered corners (greater traffic visibility) and cable-supported verandas (more fireproof than wood pillars)
Actually a modern replacement of a deco building which was torn down despite citizen protest
Example of a “double eyebrowed” building, with two ledges behind which windows are recessed.

Bev showed us many of the other architectural flourishes involved in the reconstruction effort, such as some of the original mosaic street names in the sidewalks,

other mosaic entrances to shops,

a couple of building interiors

and a couple of statues.

Sheila, on the left, is a statue of the daughter of a key architect in the rebuild, Ernest Williams, who was the Carnival Queen in the very first Napier Carnival in 1933, staged to celebrate the success and speed of the rebuild as well as a tribute to those who lost their lives. She is waving to someone, and the someone is a boy who has climbed a lamppost on the opposite side of the street. These are recent statues, from 2010 and 2014 respectively.

Bev gave us, as is always the case with these tours, more information than I can remember or that I can cram into a post such as this, but I hope it gives you a flavour of the town and why it is what it is.

We saw a few other quirks, such as Theatre Lane, which has some street art. This is a little bit of it

but it carries on the whole length

and at the far end is a representation of film stars of the 30s and 40s.

It’s a bit difficult to distinguish them, but here, for example, is Harold Lloyd and his famous clock

Here ‘s the full list, in case you want to look for the details.

Among the last of the things that Bev showed us was a traffic light pedestrian crossing that showed, instead of the usual Red Man – Green Man, a version with Sheila walking her dog.

There was a lot more to see, including many period vehicles, mostly left over from the Festival

and, of course, the Town Train

We also looked in to the Municipal Theatre.

Tour over, we treated ourselves to coffee at an excellent coffee shop in Tennyson Street called Georgia

before taking in the Veronica Sun Bay, a tribute to HMS Veronica’s key role in aiding and assisting in the aftermath of the earthquake;

the name plate is the actual one that adorned the ship. Then we headed back to our accommodation, past a group of pre-earthquake buildings called the Six Sisters

for a bit of a rest, and a chat and drink with hosts Esther and Tom and the other guests. The day ended with another walk back to downtown Napier for a meal at K Kitchen, in the Masonic Hotel building (which you can see in the background of this memorial statue from the Boer War).

We have one more day in Napier which should be an opportunity for me to get out the Big Lens for the first time this trip. So do please come back to find out how it worked out.

 

 

Bucharest! It’s…complicated

4 Replies

Friday 19 September 2025 – We’ve had a day wandering round Bucharest and my brain’s full. In a single post, it’s impossible to do it justice, so basically here are some random jottings from the day. We started with a guided walking tour, a goup of 12 of us, steered and educated by Horia,

who led us through five kilometres of huge architectural variation and 20 centuries of turbulent history. When explaining how the country of Romania and the city of Bucharest have developed, his explanations almost always started, “It’s complicated….”. Frankly, given the history, I’m not bloody surprised.

  • Firstly, it was under the Romans in the 2nd and 3rd centuries and called Dacia (that’s pronounced Dachier, not Daysier, btw, so you can correct people’s pronunciations when they talk about Dacia Duster cars).
  • Then the Romans withdrew, as you do when your empire collapses (UK, look out!) and there were waves of Goths, Huns, Slavs and any number of other barbarians passing through.
  • By the 13th or 14th century, the area consisted of three principalities – Wallachia in the south, with Bucharest as capital; Moldavia in the east; and Transylvania, which was controlled by Habsburgs from Hungary. Don’t confuse Moldavia with modern Moldova, which is a real country and which occupies some of the area called Moldavia. Come on, keep up at the back.
  • From the 14th century, the Ottomans got into the act, expanding into the Balkans from Turkey until their influence butted up against Christian Europe as they squeezed Wallachia and Moldavia.
  • In the 15th century, Wallachia became a vassal state of the Ottoman empire, which meant it was largely left alone but compelled to pay tribute in funds and military support. Occasionally the locals resisted this liability, as you might understand, and the Ottomans responded by invading. The most notable rebel was one Vlad Țepeș; yes, “Vlad the Impaler”, who was the most effective leader of resistance.
  • Vlad, Horia told us, was in charge of an army numbering 5,000 which successfully repelled an Ottoman force ten times as large. He exploited Bucharest’s location – a swampy forest, basically, and used lepers and plague victims as soldiers – the first use of bacterial and biological warfare? Ottoman soldiers were reluctant to engage, ran away and were easy to trap in the forests, where they were impaled. Vlad invented a new and more brutal way of impaling victims so that they tended to die more of dehydration than of being actually, you know, impaled, and then left them in the forest as a warning to the Ottomans. Psychological warfare: nasty, but effective. Despite this resistance, Wallachia remained a vassal state to the Ottomans.
  • In the 19th century, Romania sought indepence, and fought with Russia against the Turks to fight free of the Ottomans, becoming a kingdom under King Carol 1 in 1881.
  • After the first World War, Transylvania became part of greater Romania.
  • In the second World War, Romania allied with Germany, but then switched sides at the end, allowing a Soviet takeover in the aftermath of the war. Ceausescu at first worked for independence from the Soviet regime, but turned into a harsh dictator, equivalent, in Horia’s view, to how North Korea is today
  • Eventually, the people got fed up with Ceausescu and rebelled in 1989. Since then it has officially been a democracy, but Horia was firmly of the opinion that elements of the Ceausescu regime managed to stay in control, and today’s Social Democratic party is their legacy; corruption and incompetence are marring Romania’s efforts to be a modern, efficient country.

We started the tour just outside Hanul Manuc, the restaurant we’d eaten at yesterday evening. Just there is the St. Anthony church and the remnants of Vlad’s castle

which are being developed as a museum. The restaurant itself used to be a caravanserai, a place where merchants would come and stay to do business, for days or even months, before moving on. The caravanserai occupied what is now the courtyard that we ate in. Interestingly, the paving leading into it

is not stone, but wood.

Apparently, much of Bucharest was once paved with wood, although not of this high quality.The route of our tour led us through the Old Town, some of which remains, but much of which was demolished in the communist era.

I found the place impressive but dilapidated. There were many fine buildings, and much evidence of the French influence that led to Bucharest being called “Little Paris” in the 19th century

Victoria Shopping Centre

Palace of the Deposits and Consignments – a banking hall

City Library

Military College

Athenaeum

but there are many places where the architecture is a tortured mix of the classical and the communist era.

Some buildings have a distinctive red disc on them

which means that they are at risk of falling down if there’s another earthquake (there was a big one in 1977 which destroyed a lot of Bucharest, but not as much as the communists did, apparently).Many of these fine buildings are really quite dilapidated, Horia suggested that this is a combination of neglect under the communist regime (if they didn’t actively tear them down) and current private ownership which has neither the funds nor the will to pay for the upkeep.That said, there are many quirky corners of the old town.

and its streets are thickly populated with bars and restaurants.

There is so much to the old town that I can’t possibly do it justice without you drowning in photos, but it’s a great place to walk around, with a lively vibe – and plenty of crowds.The other thing there are a lot of is churches; Romania is a very religious country, as we saw in the devoted obeisances paid by people in the churches we visited. Some were in the old town, some outside that area. A big attraction for tourists and locals alike in the old town is the church of the “Stavropoleos” Monastery, which is beautifully decorated outside

and in.

Of course, the communist era ranked very highly in Horia’s itinerary. We visited Revolution Square, site of what was the Romanian Communist Party Central Committee building (now the Ministry of the Interior)

where one can see the balcony from which Ceausescu gave his final speech before realising that there was going to be an uprising which would unseat him.

I remember seeing the news coverage of that speech, and the look of panic on his face as he realised that he’d lost control of the people and that the peasants really were revolting.We passed the Palace Hall, a 1960s communist era building

which now bears the scars of the revolution that unseated Ceausescu in the form of bullet holes.

It’s not the only building with bullet holes scarring it – there are others, reflecting the desperate efforts of Ceausescu to retain power by ordering his troops to gun down the rebels, which only delayed his unseating by one day – but it was a very bloody day.Our tour ended at the parliament building, which is simply immense – the heaviest building in the world and largest apart from the Pentagon, apparently.

It was started in 1984, in the Ceausescu era and by the time he was deposed it was 70% finished and by then more costly to destroy than to finish. Accordingly, it was finished in 1997, and now has some 4,000 rooms in it. As well as serving as police, military and secret service headquarters, it apparently pays its way through tours, exhibitions and other events, but consumes a significant portion of the city’s electricity if all the lights are on.Other churches we visited included the Cathedral of the Patriarchy, which is south of the old town and is a striking building with a beautiful courtyard beside it.

Inside is, like the others we visited, elaborately decorated.

Back in the old town we also visited the Russian Orthodox church of Saint Nicholas,

another building which is beautifully appointed outside and in.

A few other photos from our walking around the city.

The last thing we did was to take an early dinner at another of Bucharest’s famous eateries, Caru’ cu bere, the Beer Cart, the “7th Most Legendary Restaurant in the World”. We’ve been legendary on two days running, and I can tell you it’s quite tiring and very filling. The interior of the place is extraordinary.

We indulged in more traditional Romanian sausages and much photography whilst we were there. Apart from walking back to the hotel to try to work off some of those sausages, this was the last thing we did in Bucharest. Tomorrow, we leave for parts more northerly, where Vlad’s name crops up again, as well as another famous character, about whom we will, I’m sure, learn more when we get there. Why don’t you join us?