Henriette Busch has a memorable night out. 

There aren’t many places nor many days in which one can go from watching a sci-fi movie about giant pepper shaker-like aliens invading earth in the year 2150 AD in the afternoon, to celebrating the Māori new year with families, rugby-fans and the regular nightlife-crowd in the evening. But in Wellington you can.

Leaving the cinema I went straight into Te Aro to meet up with A, another German traveller I met on a tinder-like app for friends. We had bonded a few days earlier, eating pizza and ice-cream, talking about our experiences in Aotearoa. This night we wanted to join the festivities at the harbour, neither of us knowing what to expect. One thing we certainly didn’t foresee was how many people were crowding the site despite the cold and the possibility of rain. It felt strange being there in the beginning, trying to figure out what certain venues were about, our senses bombarded with children’s laughter, the smell of food and the sounds of the lightshows illuminating Te Papa and the Boatshed. We were observing but not taking part, too overwhelmed by everything. Consequently, we hesitated to accept the invitation from one of the volunteers to come and join in writing down our wishes for the upcoming year. We only joined after watching how naturally people reacted to the proposal, grabbing pens and scribbling on the water-stained banner.

Everyone seemed to be hoping for similar things: I read a lot about happiness and health. Both A and I chose happiness; I paired it with courage. Afterwards, both of us felt more relaxed with each other and with our surroundings. Watching children of all ages play Poi Rākau made us grin and inspired A to try to incorporate the game into the youth badminton class she trains back home. It amazed us how naturally people started to sing along at the live-music venues, creating a connection through music. It was there that we realized how at an event in Germany almost all adults would be naturally sipping some alcoholic beverage. Knowing that everyone was truly in the moment, one’s senses not being altered, no one getting into alcohol-induced trouble, was refreshing.

It only took a five-minute walk to get transported back into the regular Wellington night. Families got replaced by scattered Rugby fans and a Gen Z to Gen Alpha crowd, in t-shirts, skirts and tank tops - almost no one sporting any kind of jacket - braving the cold on their way to the next party location. It always amazes me how some Kiwis' tolerance of the cold seems to differ so much from mine, resulting in my feeling overdressed in a winter jacket over a fleece sweater, with a neck warmer and beanie in place. A and I, who didn’t know each other only five days earlier, part feeling connected to each other, to the city and the people who shared the evening with us.