We know what’s failing in Wellington - but this is why I love it

Saturday, 22 February 2025

Panellists at Vision for Wellington’s first event said the city needs leaders to listen, be respectful and bring in innovation.

Sarah Catherall is a Wellington journalist, author and theatre reviewer for The Post

OPINION: Wellington is the perfect-sized city. We’re not too small, like Napier, where I grew up, or Tauranga, where I had my first journalism job.

We’re big enough to have stuff going on – national arts and cultural events, lunar festivals, dragon boat racing – but not so large that you arrive at these things in a heavy sweat because it’s taken hours of driving or cycling or hopping from one form of public transport to get there.

At Wednesday’s Vision for Wellington event, Stuart Niven, a globally renowned urban designer, mentioned that Wellington’s size is one of its assets. He also raved about our topography: the hills fringing the harbour, houses clinging to cliffsides, cycling and walking trails on our green belt, and he’s right about that. You can walk out your back door and not go too far to find trees to sit beneath or a trail to walk on.

Since I moved from Seatoun to Mount Victoria a couple of years ago, I now experience Wellington by living within it. In the eastern suburbs, we used to hear birds and ferries and planes roaring above; those sounds have been replaced with sirens screeching, young flatties in the house next door talking on their deck on a summer evening, rubbish trucks, and music blowing up the hill from Wellington’s waterfront.

Yes, Wellington is brilliant on a good day, but on a windy, bleak day it still has a lot to offer, says Sarah Catherall.

Living within the city also makes me acutely aware of the assets we don’t rave enough about: my vision for our city is we need to make more of our arts and cultural institutions. We’ve got the head offices of all our national arts and cultural offices here.

When I wrote my book last year, I spent hours at the National Library, in the brutalist building accessing documents, books and research reports you can’t get anywhere else in the country. They’d arrive in these little machines whizzing up from the bowels of the building, and friendly librarians would come over and help me if I hit blanks. Down the road there’s the National Archives, also an unappreciated gem.

The Royal New Zealand Ballet lives here, as does the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra (the latter suffered a government funding cut).

We’ve got Te Papa – love it or hate it, it’s ours – and we also have two national events each year which we’ve got to fight to keep: the World of WearableArt, which brings thousands to Wellington every September, and the biennial New Zealand Festival of the Arts.

Street buskers Zane & Degge perform at last year’s CubaDupa festival on Cuba Street.

On most nights of the week, you can find something to do. As a theatre reviewer, I’m excited about the refurbishment of the Circa Theatre, where some of our most talented thespians perform. The Fringe Festival is, well, fringe, but pick among it and there are some gems, and you can support emerging performers testing out their ideas on a crowd for often the price of a couple of coffees. Hannah’s Playhouse is a stunning, iconic building to sit within, and it always shows interesting events.

After 25 years in Wellington, I considered shifting to Auckland after my marriage ended but decided against it. This isn’t a Wellington vs Auckland pitch because comparing the two cities is like comparing apples and oranges, or a Chardonnay and a Syrah.

Sarah Catherall is a Wellington journalist, author and theatre reviewer for The Post.

But I kept my three daughters here, and I can hand on heart, say that Wellington is also the best New Zealand city to raise kids, especially teenagers. They’re now independent young women and the city they grew up in shaped them to be open-minded, interested and interesting. They weren’t bored like I was when I escaped Napier. There was enough going on to keep them out of trouble, but also not so much that they couldn’t choose.

I tend to be a glass half full person, which is unusual for a journalist as we’re typically cynical. But we’re all a bit bogged down in what is failing about this city, and what really brings us together is our hardiness – James Cameron or Jim mentioned this – and our spirit. Yes, Wellington is brilliant on a good day, but on a windy, bleak day, you can sit in a café and talk to people, or visit Te Papa for free, or wander up Cuba Street and watch musicians busking.

The other thing that struck me at the Vision for Wellington event was this: we packed out the Michael Fowler Centre – a stunning building and another of Wellington’s assets. We were there because Wellingtonians like to get out and get amongst it. We love an event.

I wasn’t there as an angry participant, but as a citizen who has lived here for three decades and I care about it and what comes next. I care deeply that It feels like the coalition Government has sent us into the corner of the classroom like a naughty school boy and left us there. Where is our Wellington minister? Why does the South Island have a minister and we don’t?

I’m not going to complain publicly about the council because I wouldn’t want to be a councillor or a mayor, would you?

I’m writing this from Napier, where I’m visiting my dad, and when I bought a coffee today – not as good or as strong as you’ll find in Wellington – the barista asked me where I had come from. When I told her, Wellington, her reply was this: “Lucky. Such a vibrant city.’’

Exactly.