6 Raroa Crescent

There was no possibility of renting an apartment when I arrived in Wellington with a suitcase and a bicycle in 1975. Apartments were scarce and, maybe more importantly, it just wasn’t how most young singles lived. Instead, you scoured the Flatmates Wanted section of the classified ads. There were opportunities to live in single or mixed sex situations with fewer or more flatmates in various parts of the city. I landed in the chateau shown above in Wellington’s Kelburn neighborhood with Judith, Iain, and Ann.

The house was not so polished as it is now. I was told that the owner had died and left it to his young grandchildren. Because they were minors, a government department, the Public Trust, was renting and maintaining it until the heirs came of age. The Trust were good landlords. They weren’t concerned with profit making and could be counted on to provide funds for paint or a lawn mower when needed.

One thing I love about Wellington is the way houses are hung on the steep, tree-laden hillsides. Sometimes you’d go to a friend’s flat (we were all in flats) and find yourself driving up an impossibly steep street that would eventually end when it simply could not climb higher. Then you’d get out and walk up a footpath to your destination. The mail carriers were very fit.

While the photo above gives a good overview of Wellington’s hillside spread, it doesn’t show the crazy density that I loved. Here’s a shot of some of my Kelburn neighbors taken from the local pub last night. Also a photo of the pizza I ate at the pub.

I close this short post with a real treat. I’ve heard about Richard’s many siblings for, literally, fifty years. How many have I met? Zero. Until last night.

Let me introduce Christine, sister of Richard and excellent pub time company.