Wellington, the national capital of New Zealand, is the second largest city in the country with a population of roughly 500,000. Although small in population, you may do well to remember that 1 in 4 Kiwis live in the Wellington area. Regardless, Welli is, by definition a  city. It possess large buildings, a public transportation system, a walking culture, parking tickets, multiculturalism and subculturalisim (skaters, goths, drama kids, etc). Wellington houses the national government, and all five building are here to prove it. The city is practically bursting with chic cafes and bars, as well as theaters which range from traditional Opera to bleeding edge, black box style productions. There are thousands of things to do for people of all walks of life and most of it is even affordable.

The problem is that, and this is really sick, Wellington does not feel like a “real” city.

Clean

It is clean. Although, not sparkling like a Scrubbing Bubbles commercial, Wellington is still very clean. For example, I pulled into a parking garage the other day to find a team of street cleaners giving the concrete a deep scrubbing with an industrial buffer. Cleaning a parking garage!?! Seriously? I watched them for about 5 minutes to see if they were filming a commercial or something. They weren’t. I like clean cities, but who would have thought the “Be A Tidy Kiwi” promotions (plastered all over the country) would actually work?

Safe

Wellington is an urban area. Traditionally, there must be a bad part of town. The wrong side of the tracks. A ghetto. This is true of every city right? The problem is, I can’t find it. I have wandered all over the city during the day and at night. I walked through the Lower Hutt and the Town Belt, down the water front and across the Theatre District. I moseyed down Cuba Street and up around Brooklyn and nowhere feels dangerous to me. I even walked, with Natalie, past strip club row without feeling any sense of personal danger. Often, when visiting a city, hostel front desk operators or locals will indicate which places should be avoided. Usually, this occurs without prompting. No one in this friendly town warned me about a “bad” area. I know this is a bit disturbing and, if anything I should be rejoicing in the safe nature of Wellington. A part of me does. Honestly. Another part of me feels out of place, like I’m a character in the Twilight Zone or the Wizard of OZ.

Friendly

People in Wellington are legitimately friendly. This friendliness does not belong just to the shop keepers or people who are trying to sell me stuff. Even people on the street are relatively nice. I like friendly people but friendly (gregarious even) strangers in an urban area kind of weirds me out. It is not that I have a problem with friendliness, it is just that urban areas are typically filled with busy, unfriendly people. Busy people don’t have time to be friendly and they don’t have time to make eye contact on the street. In fact, most busy cities function because everyone participates in an elaborate mind game that involves simply ignoring everyone else. Although anti-social, it cuts down significantly on road rage and homicides.

I understand it is cynical to quantify a city based on its apparent lack of the typical undesirable elements generally associated with urban areas.  I get it. Really. Problematically though, being in a city that is safe, friendly, and clean leaves me waiting for the other shoe to drop. When I know a city has a dangerous area, I feel…comfortable. Like a room with perfect Feng Shui. I know if I go there I will be in danger, and I know that the people who do go there also venture into the “safe” part of the city. Thus, I am never perfectly safe. That is fine as it keeps me on my toes. But, when everything is so clean so safe and so friendly, I slowly let my guard down. Comfort tends to breed negligence and a city, even a small one, is never perfectly safe.

Wellington,

You have nurtured my inner urbanite, helping me to once again find my equilibrium after spending so much time in the rural South Island. We have laughed together and walked together as I joyfully drank in your lights and your winding urban streets. Wellington, we have shared many beers and I have been thoroughly charmed by your theaters and your shops. The problem Wellington, is that I only know the good things about you. No no, don’t protest. I am sure there must be a darkness to your shiny exterior. But don’t worry Wellington, I will continue to laugh and play and allow you to rejuvenate me. But, you must know… I don’t trust you.

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Tags | New Zealand, urban exploration