Three cities, one night: Auckland, Hamilton and Wellington after dark
Saturday, 27 December 2025
From packed bars and buskers to park benches and makeshift camps, a night walking our cities’ CBDs show how quickly they empty out ‒ and who is left behind after dark. Reporters Amelia Wade, Hanna McCallum and Fiona Ellis took to the night-time streets of Auckland, Wellington and Hamilton.
Auckland, Amelia Wade
Matt only wanted the cheapest thing on the menu.
He sat just beyond the White Lady’s bright lights, watching a handful of people queueing for their midnight grease-fix, and started by asking passers-by for a few dollars.
In a largely cashless city, spare change is rare, so he had his order ready: just a plain cheese toastie, the most affordable item on the menu.
“I’ve only got one leg,” he says.
“About 30 years ago … I was more brains than balls, you know what I mean?”
Matt doesn’t go into details. He’s more interested in asking questions than answering them.
He’s been rough sleeping on and off. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad.
Matt is one of a growing number of people sleeping rough in Auckland. Social agencies and housing providers are ringing alarm bells over rising homelessness, while business groups are pressuring the Government to act, saying antisocial behaviour is affecting trade.
To see what it looks like on the ground, The Post spent seven hours walking the CBD on a weekday night, from early evening through to the early hours of the morning.
Read more:
Moving on: The controversial plan to shift people from the CBDs
Defecation, urination, abuse': Auckland businesses say they’ve had enough
It was Thursday, December 18 ‒ the last full workday before many offices shut down for the Christmas break.
The city was buzzing. Bars and restaurants spilled onto the streets as the sun sank behind the skyline.
Along Ponsonby Rd and Karangahape Rd, the mood was festive. At 7.30pm, the only sign of trouble on K Rd was an erratic driver who’d been pulled over by police.
“Someone just got tasered,” a sergeant said.
“Don’t fight cops.”
It was an isolated moment.
Drunk people stumbled along Upper Queen St, mostly a danger to themselves ‒ one skateboarder dropped off a bench and sailed through a red light while his mate ran behind him.
Dropping into the CBD, the place had a pulse.
In Aotea Square, a band was packing up after a performance as young families lingered in the twilight. Auckland Council compliance officers stroll the street.
Further down at Britomart, a pair of young violinists busked beside a giant decorative bauble as the 18-metre Christmas tree twinkled nearby. A group of girls, around the same age as the buskers, shouted and fought with each other before storming off towards McDonald’s.
Two hours later, the same girls were sitting handcuffed against the H&M shop window.
Devonport locals Natalie Aitken and Nicky Scott had caught the ferry across for an early dinner in the city. Their husbands were more worried about safety than they were, they said ‒ but they needn’t have been.
“It’s lovely in town tonight,” Scott said.
“I think it’s turning a corner,” Aitken added.
By 9pm, just down from the ferry building, the Viaduct was heaving as bars competed to be the loudest. Cher’s Do You Believe in Love collided with J.Lo’s Jenny from the Block in the night air.
Bars were packed, some with queues, though there were still empty tables at nearby restaurants.
A woman who had clearly had a few drinks took a tumble and was quickly surrounded by strangers who hauled her back to her feet as security guards lazily looked on. The biggest public safety risk seemed to be the electric scooters.
Just a block back from the revelry under neon lights, the city fell quiet and dark.
There was a well-built campsite with walls, shelter and a supermarket trolley for a door. A dog lifted its head briefly, checking for trouble.
Across the road was a reminder of how short and hard life on the streets can be. Fresh flowers wilted at a small memorial for Victor ‒ known for his dreadlocks and his manners - who had died in that spot, his spot, just a week earlier. An empty wine bottle rested against a cardboard sign wishing him peace.
Earlier in the evening, the city had felt alive — music drifting through warm air, families lingering, bars full of people celebrating the festive season.
By late evening, it had emptied out as sacks of rubbish were piled next to bins.
What remained were those with nowhere else to go.
Auckland is the epicentre of the country’s homelessness surge, with the council’s most recent count showing numbers have more than doubled in a year to almost 1000 people living without shelter - a figure advocates say is likely higher because homelessness is often hidden.
Auckland City Missioner Helen Robinson has called the situation a “crisis”, blaming in part the Government’s move to tighten access to emergency housing. Business associations have been meeting with ministers to discuss the situation and to call for more support.
Under pressure, the Government announced funding for an extra 300 social homes through Housing First and $10 million for support services in September, but advocates said it was not enough.
Ministers and the Mayor of Auckland have since released an action plan for Auckland’s city centre promising to make it a safe, welcoming, and vibrant place. However the plan was light on details.
Back on the streets, opinions varied.
Sean, sitting alone on a bench in St Patrick’s Square drinking a can of hazy beer around 9.45pm, thought something needed to be done.
“It’s a shithole,” he said.
“Too many people smoking meth.”
Umar Javed, who owns Izmir Kebab and Grill, had noticed a change - despite a tussle breaking out outside his takeaway store earlier in the night.
Police now check on homeless people two or three times a day, he said.
“In the last few months, everything has been very controlled.
“It’s safe. No doubt it’s safe.”
What’s tough is that business remains slow while rents are high. He’s hoping the City Rail Link will bring more tourists next year.
“Maybe it will be better then.”
As he spoke, sirens echoed through the city. They were headed to Albert Park, where banana palms were on fire, flames reaching into the night sky. Three fire trucks arrived quickly and brought it under control.
“It can’t be an accident,” a bystander muttered.
After midnight, shisha cafes on High St and Lorne St were still busy, but bars and restaurants were shut.
Zoe Brunton and Michaela Fitzgerald, who live nearby, said their cars had been broken into three times between them in two months. The city could feel good when cruise ships were in, they said - but there were places they avoided at night, like near the library.
Sure enough, several people were shifting around there in the shadows.
As the night stretched on, chairs were stacked on tables and doors locked for the night. The temperature dropped and a chill crept in. The vibe changed.
Darren Ten, who manages fried chicken shop Avachi on Queen St, shuts at 11.30pm. He says the CBD feels dangerous.
When they close up, people threaten him for free food, he said. They’ve called the police, but no one comes.
“Something happens every night.”
By midnight, park benches were filled with people trying to sleep.
A man dozed upright on a Fort St bench, a large wheeled suitcase tucked beside him.
Around the corner, on the stoop of Daikoku on Quay St, a young man with red eyes quietly fiddled with something in his hands, while another stretched out opposite him under an orange blanket, snoring softly.
By 12.30am, only a handful of Viaduct bars were still open. Near the Sky Tower, most venues had chairs stacked on tables.
A woman dressed in just a bra and skirt stopped and asked how we were doing: “Kei te pēhea koe?”
In Auckland, the answer to that question depends who you ask.
Wellington, Hanna McCallum
It’s dusk on a Wednesday evening in Wellington.
The horizontal rain from earlier in the day has eased. With many workplaces winding down and schools off for the year, there’s a nostalgic buzz to the city – an energy people had begun to lose sight of in the capital.
It hasn’t been an easy year. Thousands of public service roles have been cut, hospitality is walking a tightrope to stay afloat, homelessness has reached a “crisis” point, and social services are struggling to meet demand amid funding cuts.
After dark, The Post observed only one person sleeping rough. Increased police presence and people finding quieter places to rest make homelessness less visible at night – and in central Wellington.
Up on Cuba St – Wellington’s vibrant cultural centre, though also recently labelled as rundown – it is bustling. A few doors down from where two girls busk, a group of friends smoke outside S&M Cocktail Bar, while next door at Midnight Espresso a night market is on.
Around the corner at Valhalla bar, a live gig has started, sound spilling through the doors, the smell of alcohol and sweat lingering.
By 9pm, apartment lights begin to glow across the skyline. Waterfront bars are quiet by 10pm, the after-work crowd gone. The harbour is still, making the earlier storm hard to remember.
Couples wander past on evening walks. A handful of people are on late runs. Along the wharf, a young woman sits by parked boats rolling a cigarette, shopping bags at her feet.
Voices drift from groups sitting on the roofs of the boat sheds – sparking nostalgia for anyone who has once been a teenager in Wellington.
On Oriental Parade, Christmas trees twinkle from apartment windows. At a bus stop, a man cooks on a gas hob, vegetables frying atop the bench. He declines to comment.
At 10.09pm, a group emerges from the ocean.
“It’s f…ing freezing bro,” one girl says.
By Courtenay Place, takeaway shops are busy. Iconic KC Cafe is almost full half an hour before closing. A group who look fresh off a shift are warned to order quickly.
At 11.30pm, Shady Lady and Vinyl Bar are packed. A group of teachers dance, celebrating their last day of the year.
Just before midnight the rain returns and Cuba St quietens. Two men walk past talking about how “Wellington’s dying”. But at Midnight Espresso, the late night cafe haven open till 1am, people are still dotted around tables.
Two men in suits eat toasties. A couple read.
Another man speaks loudly about GST to his companion.
Barista Rosa Pennington usually works in the day but she and her friend had just hosted their first night market.
She ponders over the question of what kind of people are there so late. “No one with bad intentions,” she says – “just characters, interesting characters”.
It’s mostly regulars late at night – for some, it’s a daily routine.
She’s not sure what it is but there was a definite buzz in the city that night, reminding her of “old Wellington” she wants to see come back.
“The city was alive, it was so awesome.”
After 1am, the city loosens. Someone walks down the middle of empty Taranaki St – the kind of liberties you only have past 1am on a Wednesday night.
Karaoke is still blasting at Mexican-themed bar Saint Diablo, where the bouncer dances out front as Shaggy plays. A patron joins in with a cigarette.
In a mishmash of cultures, people waltz and sing to Frank Sinatra inside, wearing sombreros, beneath neon lights.
The host calls last song, it’s almost 2am. Ain’t No Sunshine closes the night, sung beautifully by the host in contrast to previous passionate, but drunk singing, gently ushering people out the door.
A group skips away down the road, arms linked.
Gone 2.30am, a woman leaves the gym on Kent Tce. Food delivery and rubbish trucks rumble past. Traffic lights change for no one.
Most bars are closing. But music from Shady Lady can still be heard in the distance. A man crosses the street singing Hang onto your Love by Sade into a microphone.
Those who want to keep going, find a way.
Hamilton, Fiona Ellis
As night falls at a Hamilton park, a dog growls to alert his owner that people are approaching.
For people living in a car, safety is an ongoing issue, and strangers could mean trouble.
However, owner Chris Evington welcomes the Waikato Times with the assurance that the dog, Sid, is really “a big softie”.
Evington is staying with his friend, Brett Avery, who has been living out of a ute for nearly a year.
Avery plans to get a puppy himself soon, for protection, for companionship, and for warmth.
There is a level of danger when living in a car, he says.
However, living with family had not worked out, and he was struggling with “quite extensive mental health problems” and childhood trauma.
Homeless charity The People's Project could help, but when they provided him with accommodation, he had items stolen and a benefit cut, so he felt it was not worth it.
Avery uses cannabis to help him get by.
“It’s been painful. I just couldn't deal with it, I couldn't be with people.”
Living in his car has genuinely been the best time of his life, he says.
This despite the aggressive mosquitoes — the citronella candle he burns can only do so much.
Fenced off on one side, the Minogue Park site is one of his favourite spots and he’d not been told to move until very recently. Most are moved on within three days.
As he speaks, a police car drives by, but traffic on the darkened street is otherwise non-existent.
“I’ve got to pack everything up and move, and it’s just quite unsettling, you know, having to do that all the time.”
Previously a builder, Avery says he’s not ready for another job.
“Just the medication that I’m on and the shit life I’ve had … I just want to have my own peace and my own quiet life and just to heal, really heal.”
Some of members of the public treat him with kindness, but he believes the stigmatisation of homelessness remains a big issue.
“We have a heart, we have a soul, we have a spirit, you know … we’re real people just like everybody else and, if we could have it different, we would, but these are the cards that are dealt to us.”
Evington is staying with Avery while recovering from an operation. He has a home currently, but has spent a few years homeless as well.
Figures show homelessness seems to be a growing issue in Hamilton as the Government considers introducing “move-on” legislation.
When outreach teams from The People’s Project went out for “Connections Week” in July they met 92 people – 27 rough sleeping and 65 were sleeping in cars. The previous year’s total was 69.
In August, a Salvation Army report flagged a more than 300% increase in homelessness in the city in a year.
This night the CBD street are generally quiet.
Garden Place, previously flagged as a trouble spot, is empty.
Several homeless people are eating and boozing together on Victoria St.
One the group, Marlin Watene, says the food is often donated and they would be worse off without “Christian people”.
In his view, the homeless are often unfairly blamed for any trouble in the CBD at night.
“It’s not always us, honest. I mean, other people come past and they have fights, because they’re on the way from the pub to their home.”
It would be a different story if people could experience homelessness themselves, he says.
The People’s Project worked well for some, especially in winter.
Watene has given up after being on the streets full time for about five years.
“They've gotten me indoors, but then there's always a bad landlord or a bad neighbour, that, yeah, doesn’t end well.”
Hamilton City area commander Neil Faulkner said in a written statement police did not generally move people on without an offence having been committed, and did not target specific groups.
From time to time, police were called to matters to do with homelessness, such as disorder, intimidation, or substance abuse, he said.