My Wellington, New Zealand

My Wellington

As usual I’m running late so I pick a random t-shirt off my floor and throw it on, it doesn’t go with this skirt at all; the colours clash horribly but I don’t care because the weirder the better in Wellington. I run out the flat and slam the door closed behind me with a well-practiced level of force, not too hard as to break the latch but hard enough to make sure it stays shut in the wind. The flat is one of six wedged into a run-into-the-ground building up the road from Uni. The notorious Wellington wind whistles its way under the door and through cracks between the windows making the bunting lining the lounge flutter and our fingers numb with cold, but the view of the hills makes it worth it. Putting on my city walking pace I cut through the parliamentary grounds and slow to admire the impressive stone building that was one of the first to allow same-sex marriage, works on returning rights to the Maori people from the forces of British colonialism, and was the first to give women the vote and I feel a little bit of humble kiwi pride.

            It’s about 1pm, so lunch hour, and Lambton Quay is swarming with young professionals creating a river of colour in smart blue suits and paisley shirts, neat vintage dresses and heals. I reach Cuba Street and am instantly drowned in a wave of music. On my left a young girl plays the violin slowly and peacefully, contrasting but somehow complimenting the beat of makeshift drums by an old man with dreads who grins goofily at everyone who passes, even those who ignore him. The famous bucket fountain splashes rhythmically and a couple of old women create the chime of a triangle with delicate high giggles as they point at the road cone a drunk student managed to place on top of it last night. I’m not sorry when I get trapped behind a couple walking slowly and have to slow my pace; I take the time to look around me. It’s one of those rare bright sunny days where the wind is merely a breeze and everything seems to sparkle. The sun glints off a woman’s sunglasses who sits outside a café, her mouth moves but her voice is unidentifiable, lost amongst others all joining together in the rise and fall of a crescendo. I can’t help smiling when the couple in front of me joins hands, perfecting the scene, and find myself unconsciously singing along to the Ed Sheeran song being strummed by a young man sitting on a bench.

            I arrive at the café on time to see my friend Aysha walking towards me from the opposite direction. She waves frantically almost hitting a passerby with a bag of lollipops clutched in her right hand. Just before she reaches me she pauses to hand a lollipop to the homeless man sitting grudgingly between cafés,

‘sorry I don’t have any change’ she says. The man looks up at her silently with gratitude sparkling in his eyes.

            We walk into the café and sit down with Sophie who was waiting for us at the back. The café is full of students eagerly sipping cappuccinos they can’t afford whilst debating current affairs so seriously that creases furrow in their young foreheads as they plan to save the world. We share an impressive plate of nachos between us under the scrutiny of gig, protest and advertising posters lining the wall, only separated by artistic graffiti. I loose track of time while we sit there, the plate long since empty, discussing big important issues but mostly sharing stories from the weekend and planning the next. We talk over what we’re going to do when we finish our degrees but there are too many choices to come to a conclusion, a whole terrifying world of possibilities. We wonder what we are going to do with our pointless arts degrees, but not with much concern because right now it doesn’t matter, right now we can do anything. We’ll travel around Europe when we finish, even if we can never save the money to get there. And when we get back Aysha is going to make waves as a successful lawyer, Sophie will design something life changing, and I’m going to be a famous writer. At this moment, in this place, surrounded by these people nothing can stop us and anything can happen.

 

 Hannah Parsons

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