WCC 11: In the 'burbs

Written by Molly McCarthy

As a child, suburbs were an important part of my life. I grew up in Auckland’s Grey Lynn, my parents located either side of Grey Lynn Park. Everything I could ever want or need was located within the boundaries of the suburb; the dairy with my favourite five cent lollies; the video store where we’d get five movies every Friday, and my next-door neighbour’s house where I spent most of my time building forts and performing covers of Spice Girls songs. Then there was Westmere, where I went to primary school and West Lynn, the mysterious semi-suburb I walked through every day and which was also home to the butcher, fish and chip shop and the local gift store I was obsessed with.

In her poem ‘Octopus Auckland: Eight Suburbs’, Karlo Mila muses on the very different characters of eight Auckland suburbs. Studying this poem at school, Mila’s descriptions of Ponsonby’s “flat white crowd” and Mount Eden’s “perfect earl grey English” really spoke to me. These places were so distinct – it was certainly more than lines on a map that separated them from one another. It wasn’t only the shops or demographic of each suburb that made them so unique, but something about the place itself; a different way of life, concept of time, method of doing things, environment and atmosphere. Sometimes I’d beg Dad to take me to Herne Bay for a voyeuristic walk down the leafy streets, peering over fences at the grandiose houses. I always loved travelling with Mum to the CBD, where life was faster, people were busier and I was constantly bombarded with sounds, sights and smells totally unfamiliar to me.

Photo by Rachel Brandon

As I grew older, moved house and learned to drive, these suburbs became less important to me. My social circle grew, and with the freedom of being able to drive, so too did the number of areas in Auckland I would visit on a daily basis. The distinct lines between the city’s suburbs quickly blurred when I was able to cross three in the space of five minutes.

When I moved to Wellington, suburbs continued to have much less significance than they once had and at first, my life was confined to the university and the ‘Golden Mile’. Wellington, I had figured, would be much the same all over. Its relative small size and ethnic homogeneity compared to Auckland must make it fairly uniform; suburbs, I’d assumed, were simply a postal convenience.

When I finally ventured out of my comfort zone I realised there was a lot more to the city than what I could find in the five kilometre radius of my hostel. Catching the bus to Lyall Bay or Newtown soon became one of my favourite pastimes; travelling to new suburbs was like going on a holiday to a small town with the added benefit of only costing $2 and being able to get home in half an hour.

Lyall Bay is a sleepy seaside suburb located across the bay from Wellington’s airport. Every time I fly in and out of Wellington and look across the water to the waterfront dotted with colourful old houses, I vow to spend more time in the suburb. The footpaths are always gritty with sand, the air salty with the smell of the sea. Time feels slower there and meandering aimlessly along the waterfront is a perfectly acceptable thing to do. A must-see is the recently resurrected Maranui Cafe, located in the old Maranui Surf Club, complete with vintage surf life-saving decor. Sitting out on the sunny deck, one can enjoy a tasty treat while watching the planes fly in and out of the city across a bay of lazy waves.

Photo by Emma Whitlock

Newtown, on the other hand, is a mix-and-match of many elements of the city. I often visit to trawl its numerous op-shops, which are usually less popular than those in town. The suburb has a somewhat bohemian vibe, with many cafes, murals and stencils dotting its main street. Newtown also features a high proportion of $2 shops, authentic Thai, Indian and Chinese restaurants and a sizeable block of council housing at the end of the street. In this way, a suburb that could potentially become defined by its trendy, boho image instead stays true to its diverse roots. As promotional tee-shirts for the suburb proclaim, ‘Newtown: It’s a bit shit’ and it is within this humility that the true charm of Newtown lies.

While Wellington has a particular culture; each suburb offers a different take on what it means to be a part of the city. Wellington is not a city that is greater than the sum of its parts; it is a city made great because of them. Want to find your own bite-size piece of Wellington? Jump on a bus and hit the ‘burbs.