A lesson in high diplomacy from Jonathan Hunt

High Commissioner Jonathan Hunt with All Black captain Tana Umaga and the Queen. Ross Land / Getty Images

Almost 200 days into his appointment as High Commissioner to the United Kingdom, Ambassador to Ireland and High Commissioner to Nigeria, Jonathan Hunt stands in his spacious office on the second floor of New Zealand House and lists his outstanding achievements.

First, and he returns to this subject several times, is his part in the refurbishment of the penthouse of this iconic, 18-storey building.

With its spectacular terrace and views over Buckingham Palace, Parliament, Westminster Abbey and beyond, the top-floor reception area at New Zealand House is in great demand.

People book it for everything from receptions to product launches and cocktail parties, and the high commissioner was determined to get it up to standard as quickly and smoothly as possible.

"I've really pushed very hard to get it remodelled and upgraded and updated," says Hunt in his remarkably light, measured voice. "We have new carpets, new lights and flooring, a new kitchen."

Hunt is not dubbed the minister for wine and cheese for nothing, and he adds with a flourish: "One of the things I've just brought in, as from October, with any new booking you can only have New Zealand wines there. I have no apology at all for insisting on that."

He stands there in his newly baggy grey suit ("I've lost a stone since I've been here") and talks about the caterers used by New Zealand House.

"People such as Tom and Suze." Hunt spells it out, "S-U-Z-E," as he might have for the third-formers at Kelston Boys in the 1960s, to make sure I get the name right. And useful it is too. "We have Kai, K-A-I Caterers, Peter Gordon.

"It means they'll have little nibbles with a good New Zealand flavour or they can actually put on a first-class dinner."

As he points out, New Zealand House, at No 1 Haymarket, where the Haymarket meets Pall Mall, is one of the choicest addresses in London.

The building dates back to 1963 when New Zealand was a prosperous and beloved colony, travellers were ushered through Heathrow through the Commonwealth queue and the Common Market was but a gleam in Edward Heath's eye.

"I'm very much in favour of retaining New Zealand House," Hunt says. "There was a rumour that the dreaded Treasury wanted to think about doing something else, but I think the Prime Minister has said that won't occur and New Zealand House will remain.

"And that would have the support of 99 per cent of people in London."

He is right. Expatriates are proud of New Zealand House, with its unsurpassed position. And High Commissioner Hunt - with his love of art, architecture and detail - is relishing the role of custodian.

"It is going to require some maintenance," he says. "The windows are wearing and, see, I've got a phonebook under my email there [he means his computer monitor]."

Although it seems quiet this Thursday afternoon, Hunt assures me that New Zealand House, and his role of high commissioner, is seriously busy.

Half the 120 staff are involved with the immigration and passport services - "We're one of the three places in the world that print passports" - and, he adds, the standard of his staff is high. "Nothing beats brains."

He sees his day job as keeping New Zealand's presence in front of the British. "We want to keep them interested in the Pacific. We've got some very good contacts, particularly British MP John Prescott."

Hunt holds weekly meetings with New Zealand Government and business representatives in Britain, receptions four or five times a week "at least", and does his bit to ensure that New Zealand wine, already the ninth most popular wine in Britain, keeps rising in popularity.

But the thing that makes the veteran MP's blood blush up his neck is the commotion made by those who claimed he had applied for the British pension.

He seems mystified at the fuss. He has never received any money from the Brits and is surprised by the outrage felt by New Zealanders who think that after 38 years as an MP he has had quite enough public money already and had no business even inquiring about his eligibility.

"I don't know [what it was all about]," he says. "I don't get one. I asked about the situation, and I don't know how, I must have said something to someone."

"There was another very silly thing put out about me, too," he says sadly, and again with surprise at the volley of criticism out of New Zealand.

This time it was about Hunt's decision to shelter in his car during an Anzac Day service rather than stand to attention in the rain.

"The point was I had to meet the Queen at Westminster Abbey [and didn't want to arrive in a dripping-wet suit]. And I was there and Trevor Mallard [the higher-ranked Government representative, who was scheduled for the job] laid the wreath. But, you know, I'm not commenting on that. It's not true."

Another thing dominating the High Commissioner's programme is rugby, first in his role in supporting Helen Clark's foray into the successful World Cup negotiations, and second in the All Black tour of Britain. What Hunt can't do is dish out tickets to the games as high commissioners did before the professional era.

"We used to have 100 tickets. Now I haven't got one. People keep saying, 'I'm sure you can get me a ticket, I knew you in Auckland 20 years ago'. There's no way - even if I wanted to."

Instead, he goes as a guest of England's Rugby Football Union "when I can, tying it in with other things".

As always, Hunt likes to add the background. He waits patiently for a gap to insert his history lesson about the first All Black Tour in 1905 and the beginnings of the Gallagher Shield.

He then drops the most head-turning name of all in these parts: "When I went to present my credentials to the Queen, my job was to ensure the official meeting and reception for the All Blacks. She said 'yes', just like that."

As an MP most of his adult life, Hunt has never spent more than a month at a time out of New Zealand. And he is revelling in English life.

He is already known at his local, the Hereford Arms in Knightsbridge, has sampled the opera and theatre, enjoyed the exceptionally good summer, and finds the 100,000 New Zealanders in London create a "great feeling of friendship".

"One small weakness in England. It's very hard to get a good cup of coffee."

Of course, it is not so long since his forbears lived here - but probably not in Knightsbridge. "On my mother's side they were all from London," he says. "There's also a grandmother from Glasgow. We have relatives still here and, yes, I'm in contact with them." Despite living alone and his never-married status, Hunt is into family and rings his 95-year-old Mt Albert-based, rugby-mad mother every morning at seven.

Forty five minutes later the NZ1 car picks him up from the High Commissioner's "residence" in Knightsbridge to give him an hour-long window before the appointments begin.

There are end-on-end meetings with visiting politicians, business people and dignitaries, and functions most evenings. On the day of our interview he met a delegation from Meat and Wool New Zealand headed by Jeff Grant, then Wayne Mapp came in.

Later, he had a function at the Commonwealth Secretariat headed by Don McKinnon, followed by a charity function with someone from the diplomatic corps.

Although there are formalised links in British political life, Hunt says you have to work at the networks all the time.

"Every time you meet one [a VIP or politician] you get the card, add it to the database."

He also went to the British Labour Party's conference in Brighton and the Conservative version in Blackpool, as a nondescript diplomat.

"I just wandered around and talked to quite a few of the younger delegates. They didn't know who I was from a bar of soap.

"I just said, 'I'm a diplomat from New Zealand', and they talked amazingly frankly and freely. That's when I came back and said to people, I think this guy David Cameron's gonna do all right and I was able to send that information back to New Zealand. You're expected to have your eyes and ears open."

"Helen" also expected him to forge a closer association with Scotland.

"I went this week and met new consul-general Eric Milligan, a former Lord Provost of Edinburgh, knows everybody, a very, very good choice."

And no, after 38 years in Parliament, Hunt had not bitten his nails over New Zealand's cliffhanger election - even though, as a political appointee, a National victory could have meant a speedy return to New Zealand.

He had methodically averaged the last 10 opinion polls and calculated a 1.5 per cent win for Labour - and relaxed. "It ended up 2 per cent. I had predicted: It will be a tight fight but Labour will win."

You can see why Hunt, with his encyclopaedic memory, unwavering loyalty and ponderous, steady, demeanour, is a favourite with Helen Clark. "I worked out by end of night she got the same vote as last time.

"And the 41 per cent is higher than Tony Blair got [36 per cent], the same as he got in 2001 with a majority of 160, higher than Schroder got [34 per cent], higher than the Prime Minister of Norway [32 per cent]."

Later, he shows me where he sat alone at 8am on election morning, in front of the wide screen at 40 Clearview Grove, Kensington, watching the results.

The four-storey residence - redecorated by Barbara Marshall, wife of a former high commissioner, Russell Marshall - is different from the former residence in Chelsea, which is tainted with the antics of another high commissioner, John Collinge.

At Kensington it's all cream stone floor tiles, pale paintwork, fawn and donkey-brown furniture, wooden fittings, the floors highlighted by earth-toned rugs. The effect is clean-lined, modern New Zealand.

The walls are smothered with Hunt's art collection. Many of the works are by Brenda Hartill, wife of his old friend Harold Moores, who founded the Princes St branch of the Labour Party, which has had such a huge impact on New Zealand politics over the past 40 years.

"They're very good friends," says Hunt. "Harold had a record club here, he's now gone to Rye, near Hastings. Brenda helped sort my pictures."

He leads me through the reception area, dining room, immense kitchen and much smaller patio, then respectfully sends his housekeeper - who is working on the weekend because Jim Sutton and his wife are staying - to fetch some photos from his study upstairs.

Did he really ask Helen Clark to install a lift in the residence because he found the steps too much? "Nonsense," he says. "That's another thing that was made up."

He looks so genuinely sad and hurt, baffled at why people would try to criticise and make him a figure of fun, and I feel sorry for even putting the question.

"I really work very hard."