A chat with the Art Deco Trust's events manager Peter Mooney a couple of years ago pretty well summed up the Bay's great festival weekend, where people dress to the nines in a manner not seen for eight decades.
"Napier turns into Brigadoon," Peter said.
Indeed - like the legendary old tale, it is the town which turns back the clock to once again become the town it once was.
For these few days in February any visitor oblivious to the event (unlikely I know) would become unsettled by the realisation they had somewhere stepped through a time warp.
Although one visitor did fall into that category, a member of the i-Site staff told me.
The man was bemused by all the "dressed-up people" and the large number of vintage and classic cars motoring gently through the city.
"He was so wrapped up in what was happening he just stood there for ages, on the corner, watching everything go by."
Yes, for the next couple of days the clocks go back to the age of glitz and glamour - despite much of the 1930s being under the economic cosh of the depression.
But dash that sort of thing, no time to get bally sombre ... there's fizz to taste and a street or three to dance in.
While Napier is effectively the core of the four days of Deco daze, Hastings too shares the enjoyment of turning into Brigadoon once a year.
The spin-offs for the region, in straight economic terms, are clearly enormous.
The accommodation sector - from motels to backpackers and campsites - swells, and of course all those happy chaps need to eat and drink so the hospitality sector does a rather dandy trade.
But there is also the remarkable human spin-off. It's the feelgood thing.
The chance for a chap to play "silly beggars" and for the ladies to don the hats and frocks in a style which was once standard issue for their grandmothers.
It is simply a party everyone is invited to attend.
There are events on the streets, the skies, on the water and on the railway tracks.
There are great lights in the sky and the air fills with the sound of steam and excited chatter and music.
It's all on for young and, well, the more mature of age.
I watched with delight as a large group of little boys and girls, barely four or five and linked to their carers by little ropes, wandered through town yesterday morning - all dressed in little Deco costumes.
And the day before I enjoyed the sounds of the trad-jazz band of young chaps from Napier Boys' High School.
All part of a special magic which has been stirred up and strengthened through the years, to turn this otherwise tiny spot on the global map into a giant.
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