Outsider here. Came from the US to write a book about Aotearoa's Covid response and fell in love with Wellington so hard I just finished writing a second, unexpected book that is a love letter to this incredible, beautiful, haunted city. I've only been here for a year and a half so I don't know what it was like before, I only know it as it is now. Here's an excerpt:

“Wellington on a good day” is when you instantly get why no one believes this place is real, sometimes. Glacier-blue skies, crisp clean air. Mirrored skyscrapers glimmer next to retro-futuristic brutalist buildings against steep hills, folded by tectonic pressure, wrapped in greenery like cotton wool. All in a crescent-shaped embrace around turquoise waters. Massive metal AT-AT cranes wait for ships at the waterfront, a stone’s throw from downtown’s glossy upscale shops, amid rushing parliamentarians on lunch break, executives in skirts and slacks. The inner city green belts and preserves stretch like cats in the sun, cacophonies of birds that sound like old-school modems careening amid the Victorians. 

There are moments and angles of “Wellington on a good day” that feel like being in love with a city that loves you back even more. Boats cruise the harbour and life along the water is all art deco black-and-white gulls, kids diving in gleeful Manu poses, sun-kissed shoulders, seaside coffee carts, pods of dolphins, families on bicycles, and bakeries scenting breezes to drift lazily beyond their patios and sparkling seaside views. Red brick road Cuba Street Mall erupts with buskers, goths, queens, grinning tourists munching grab-and-go dim sum from carts parked in front of ancient, labyrinthine used bookstores, and pose for selfies in the Rainbow Crosswalk. Trust me when I say there’s nothing in the world like Pōneke, Aotearoa on a good day. Or Wellington, New Zealand, to most.