I am determined to fall in love with Wellington again. I've chosen to rise above the time when I rode my bike in screaming northerlies around Greta Point and got pushed into a fence by the wind. I have also wilfully ignored the slight numbness in my toes when taking ocean swims in a variety of bays. If you ignore the terrible weather, the unflinchingly hard light (thanks, depleting ozone layer!) and the brutal pollen count, this city is so shabby-chic-nature gorgeous, it hurts.
Falling in love with Wellington again requires a dogged pursuit of outdoor activities in a variety of usually-limiting weather situations. It doesn't take after New York City. It's a Santa Monica/Venice Beach/Muscle Beach kinda place. We even have the requisite homeless population, though, admittedly, not as large.
Snorkelling around the marine reserve in Lyall Bay without a wetsuit? A thousand hypothermic yeses!
Dive-bombing off the Days Bay wharf and pontoon in 10 degree water? I'll race you there.
An hour long bike ride from Cuba Street to Shelley Bay in a 40 km northerly? Don't stop me now! (but if you wear a dress and don't tie your hair back, you'll be sent back home to change).
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