Jehan Casinader: Prince builds bond with New Zealanders

Last night, Prince William ended his one-and-a-half-week tour of New Zealand; his first visit to the country in over two decades, to support the touring British and Irish Lions rugby team.

A week ago, on a bitterly cold and blustery Sunday morning, Wellington witnessed a coming-of-age event for the Prince. It was his first solo duty on behalf of the Queen, a service at the National War Memorial to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the end of World War II.

The event marked the beginning of a new phase in the life of the young royal, just a week after he graduated from St Andrews University.

The morning after the All Blacks delivered a veritable thrashing to the Lions in the second test of the three-week tour, central Wellington lay desolate and lifeless.

Every trace of the previous evening's euphoria was gone. Most rugby fans were presumably in bed with hangovers and strained vocal chords from the exhilarating match.

The few who walked the virtually empty streets were Lions fans, invariably clad in the team's distinct attire, but noticeably deflated after their loss.

Weary-looking pub staff sullenly removed marquees and cleaned up after the thousands who had spilled into the streets following the game.

Police and security staff covered the grounds of the War Memorial in Buckle Street. An hour before the Prince's scheduled arrival at midday, the area was still; just a handful of members of the public waited near the forecourt, hoping to catch a glimpse of the second-in-line to the British throne.

Details of the Prince's visit had been embargoed by the Department of Internal Affairs. But within the hour, word had spread, and by midday a crowd of over three hundred had gathered to await the Prince's arrival.

The "rat-pack" gathered too; dozens of Royal correspondents and photographers from New Zealand and abroad, to witness William's first official solo engagement.

Among the group was BBC journalist Nick Witchell, subject of a public relations blunder earlier in the year. A carefully-arranged photo shoot went horribly wrong for Prince Charles when sensitive microphones picked up his words: "Bloody people…I can't bear that man. He's so awful, he really is."

Prince William arrived to rather reserved applause and was greeted by government ministers Annette King and Marion Hobbs.

He wore the Queen's Golden Jubilee medal. "I wonder who he stole that off," quips a photographer.

William held a solemn expression as he stepped forward to the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior, and paid his respects as the remembrance bell tolled.

Rather eerily, the wind stopped. The Prince looked to his right and offered a shy wave to the silent onlookers as he entered the Memorial.

Outside in the stinging southerly gale with only petrol station coffee for comfort, the rat-pack remained. Being "punished", said one journalist.

The television reporters removed beanies and coats, attempting to tame their hair and film glamorous links. The woollies went back on as soon as they had finished reporting.

After greeting veterans following the short service, the Prince emerged looking just as sombre, perhaps slightly self-conscious, as he did when he entered the Hall of Memories. His last task was to place a poppy on the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior.

"William, William," came the timid call of a young well-wisher in the crowd.

So began the royal walkabout, involving considerable hand-shaking, teeth-bearing and rose-presenting. A high-five with a zealous teenager put an edge on the otherwise textbook event.

"Now, to use his own words, he is out in the "big wide world"… [the] engagement was a hugely significant step," wrote Caroline Davies in the Telegraph.

Countless ceremonies like this one lie in William's future, but not necessarily in the months to come. He is likely to join Sandhurst Royal Military Academy next.

In 1983, he visited New Zealand with his parents as a nine-month-old and was introduced to the 'Buzzy Bee' Kiwiana icon in a now famous romp on the lawns of Government House.

Two decades later, the Prince has returned to our shores as a young leader, and the innocence of early childhood has been exchanged for the responsibility and duty that is expected to come with maturity.

William's tree-planting, wreath-laying and competition-opening during his trip fitted in perfectly with the historical model of royal duties. But while the Prince's time on our shores was short, New Zealand made a genuine attempt at forging an affinity for our country in the heart of a future king.