Wellington’s Lambton Quay

Instead of being where I needed to be, I’d taken a detour to check out Wellington’s Lambton Quay—as if I had all the time in the world. The city lights flickered in the fading daylight, and for a moment, I convinced myself this was a scenic, intentional choice rather than me just getting distracted again.

I was supposed to be at a restaurant 2.5 kilometres away—Monsoon Poon. With a name like that, how could I not be intrigued? Just off Wellington’s famous Courtney Place, it’d been a local favorite for years, known for its Southeast Asian cuisine. If the reviews were to be believed, I was in for a treat. I’d read that the food was delicious, the atmosphere was great, and the whole place had a vibe you just couldn’t help but enjoy. Either that, or the reviewers had all had one too many cocktails.

I was hungry, thirsty, and more than ready for a wander through the city—with the promise of good food and a cold beer waiting at the end. And honestly, at that point, I would’ve settled for a mediocre meal and a lukewarm beer, as long as it came quickly.

Wellington railway station

I took a train to Wellington central station. A slow, yet not uncomfortable trip I shared with a dozen or so passengers. Along the way people came and went as we stopped at various stations until we reached our eventual destination and alighted at the end of line. 

It was Christmas Eve and I had expected Wellington railway station to be a teeming throng of passengers hurrying between platforms, armed with parcels-desperately trying to not to drop everything as they raced to catch a train. I was secretly hoping I might even hear somebody yelling “hold that train!” with a shrill mild sound of panic in their voice watching the train pull away from the platform. Alas, I was wrong. The place wasn’t busy at all. A few people were shuffling around but nothing like what I had expected. The place seemed almost deserted! 

In the modern age, there aren’t too many places where commuter rail really survives and Wellington is one of them. If news and TV has taught me anything it’s that on Christmas Eve, places like airports, train stations and shopping malls are a swarming mass of busyness, stress and tension but this was not the case. At the far end of the station a few people were milling around a doorway while the rest of the station was, well, empty! I walked from the platforms inside the main building and looked at the decorative marble surrounds and the high dome ceilings, finished with tile. Footsteps echoed around the vaulted ceilings while on the windows of empty rooms sat ‘to lease signs.’ Once, in the golden age of New Zealand rail, all around the country the railway station was the grandest building in town. Now, most of them are simply empty shells collecting dust and cobwebs inside. It all seemed rather sad and depressing in a way. Then it occurred to me, there is a silver lining in all this, at least they haven’t pulled it down to make a carpark! 

Since I pretty much had the place to myself, and I wasn’t in any rush I had a good wander round taking in some of the architecture which really was rather splendid. But to be honest with you there is only a certain amount of time you can spend looking at a lonely railway station, and it was a lovely day outside. Near the exit, beams of sunshine were streaming through the windows, enticing me to venture outside and head for the waterfront docks. So, that’s just what I did. 

As I emerged I passed and a disheveled looking man holding a sign saying “hungry, need food?” to which I politely said ‘No thank you, I’ve already eaten’ and walked on towards the waterfront.