Forget all about Frodo Baggins and comedy-folk duos, because those familiar exports only hint at the greatness that is ‘Australia’s Canada.’ New Zealand is the little country that could, with natural beauty in every terrain and climate imaginable and enough sheep and cattle to fill 100 million mince pies.
Kiwis (New Zealanders) use tomato sauce instead of ketchup, don’t tip and adore their booze. They will go out of their way to downplay everything they’ve created ‘mdash; but still, ‘Flight of the Conchords’ is huge right now, and Peter Jackson is nothing less than a golden god.
Wellington, the political and self-proclaimed cultural capital of New Zealand, is what San Francisco would be if it were smushed to half its size; cleared of bums, trash and major crime; then filled with friendlier, down-to-earth people that actually say hello to each other on the street.
Because of its coastal location and proximity to the notoriously drafty Cook Strait, Wellington is also one of the windiest cities in the world. The town’s three main thoroughfares ‘mdash; Courtenay Place, Cuba Street and Lambton Quay (pronounced ‘key’) ‘mdash; all host their own variety of shops, cafes, theaters and bars: Courtenay has the upscale nightclubs and restaurants, Cuba’s filled with an infinite variety of coffeehouses and boho boutiques and Lambton’s got the mainstream fast food and chain stores.
Welly has more cafes per capita than New York City, and while its urban population sits at around 380,000, you can walk from one end of town to the other in under an hour. Watch a pro rugby or cricket game at Westpac Stadium, hit the beach at nearby Oriental Bay, visit the enormous (and free) Te Papa Museum, sip morning or afternoon tea at a local cafe and catch some NZ indie music at Bodega Bar ‘mdash; all in a day’s work. Just know that when a Kiwi says the phrase ‘sweet as’ excitedly, it’s ‘as’ with one ‘S,’ not two. Cheers.