Wellington City Council has paused works on the Golden Mile as yet another review into the project is launched. Lyric Waiwiri-Smith rode the current works to see if it’s worth finishing.
It cannot be overstated how nice it is to have some improvements in your neighbourhood, especially if you live in Wellington. The capital of today isn’t much different to the one I remember living in as a kid, except that you can’t go to Reading Cinemas any more and every block has a Welly Collective for some reason. So when you see the place try to take itself a bit more seriously, it feels almost akin to some kind of renaissance, albeit about 20 years late.
Enter: the new traffic-island-turned-cycleway between Cambridge Terrace and Kent Terrace, almost slap bang at the tip of Courtenay Place. As someone who lives locally and still doesn’t have their full driver licence (note to editor: I am working on it), this little section of the Golden Mile – all 25m of it – is a promise of better times, a divine light in the darkness that is Courtenay Place and generally Wellington central at large.
There are two ways one can experience the Golden Mile; either through the cycle lane on Cambridge Terrace heading towards Oriental Bay, or heading back from the Bay on Kent Terrace. Today, you enter via Cambridge on an e-scooter, the chariot of the Wellington yo-pro, having just dropped your bicycle off at the repair shop on Vivian Street because your dad fucked up your left-hand brake.
Staring down the barrel of Cambridge Terrace, there’s one part of the Golden Mile that will immediately catch your eye. There’s some great, big ugly fencing around the thing, which almost makes you feel like a pig in a cage being ogled at by the motorheads who may or may not hate you for believing you also have a right to use the road. Here, you must execute tunnel vision: focus on the beautifully paved 25m ahead of you, not on the forces at large. Do pass Go. Do not let them win.
You’ll notice right away upon encountering the first metre of the Golden 25m that the feng shui of it all is near-perfect. A rise in the road lifts you onto the traffic island, and after a night of rain, the pavement emits a scent of fresh stone. You relish in the art of mixing minerals to create a transport experience unlike any other. It truly is the simple pleasures in life.
There’s a slight bend in the cycleway to redirect you onto Kent Terrace. Snap yourself out of your scent-induced trance, look to your side, and you’ll see the beginnings of a crossing. Huh, you wonder – is this the sign of a second crossing just 20m away from the one already there? It is one of many wonders to behold on this journey.
The hideous fencing is still around you as you near the halfway mark, but you close your eyes for a brief moment and try to imagine the finished product. In this flow state, you achieve enlightenment: a vision of the Wellington of 2040 beckons you forward. “Dream,” it dares you. “Dream to live in a better city.” The prophecy is revealed – the Golden Mile has been completed, the sidewalks no longer reek of piss, you can cycle down Courtenay to Manners to Willis without being verbally abused by a driver, and there are actually people out and about on Lambton Quay on a Sunday. Wellington is in equilibrium.
You remember being there on that fateful day when former mayor Tory Whanau engaged in the ancient art of the sod-turn, carrying a spade already pre-caked in mud into a dingy little traffic island, turning over the dirt and hearing the applause. Was the fanfare all just blind hope? Were you truly foolish to believe Wellington to be worthy of something new? No, you tell yourself – it’s not me that’s wrong, it’s Andrew Little.
Stop at the lights, and take in the natural environment. There’s a bunch of newly plotted plants around you, and the rest of the world has invited itself to share in this concrete jungle. Birds tip-toe through leaves and insects bounce from bush to bush. Nature is healing.
And then the pavement slopes downward, propelling you out of the dream and the last metre of the 25m Golden Mile and into the intersection of Courtenay, Cambridge and Kent. You fly past the people in their cars, the real pigs in cages, and laugh inside. Those fools; will they ever know this much freedom? Could they ever imagine having so much faith in their city to deliver a decent bit of road, despite years and years of the council proving the contrary? You realise that your ability to hope is your strength.
Flying past on a diagonal, you’re now well on your way to Oriental Parade. Turn your head, and the final metre of the Golden Mile fades into the distance. One day, the cycleway may be completed, opening up the world of Courtenay Place to your human-powered vehicle. But for now, it is your 25m sliver of hope, with every metre a promise of better times ahead – if it ever gets done.
