Chill out in the big city

CARROLL DU CHATEAU leaves chores and children behind for a pampered weekend in the City of Sails.

The allure of a luxury hotel slap in the middle of town gets stronger as winter sets in. Somehow, the city that seemed so hot and dirty in summer becomes more romantic and exciting in autumn.

There's also the joy of taking a break from the 10-acre tyranny. Although we're only 35 minutes down the motorway and love the country, our weekends are so full of feeding the heifers, yanking out weeds, planting other stuff and washing, cleaning and cooking, there's not much time to relax.

So, when the prospect of checking out the Suite Cuisine package ($279 for two) at the new Heritage hotel came up, we seized it with joy. At last, we thought - a chance to chill out, feel as though we really belong in the city again and see a little of what Auckland has to offer at the same time.

My list of things to do was always going to be too long. First came a water-taxi trip round the Viaduct Basin. Then there was the prospect of wandering round the Pat Hanly retrospective at the Auckland Art Gallery, inspecting the facelift at the museum, checking out the zoo, Sky City and casino, buying more black socks, eating, drinking ...

What we hadn't bargained for was the thrill of the hotel part of the equation. From outside, the Heritage, in the old Farmers building on the corner of Hobson, Wyndham and Nelson Sts, isn't terribly prepossessing.

Inside, however, it's a different story. Art deco detail preserved from the old building means that decoration isn't just paint-and-wallpaper-deep. The recently-exposed original jarrah beams that have been holding this place up since 1916, give it a feeling of permanence, the studs are high, making it airy, the landings and foyers with their original nail-pocked floorboards framing stunning emerald-green carpet squares are huge by today's standards. Even the rooms are roomy.

In all there are 2ha covering two separate hotel blocks - the Tower and the Heritage proper - and containing 467 rooms, two pools, a sauna, jacuzzi, two gyms, a tennis court, two restaurants, two bars, outside walkways, plus a girl parrot called Hector after the crusty old gent who used to entertain my kids back in the 70s.

Then there is the old tearoom on the top floor, where Jake, Ollie, Keir and Jess used to ride pushalong trains and trikes for hours while Dinah and I sat drinking coffee and putting the world right. Now, stripped down, fresh-painted, carpeted in velvety wine and gold, with decks overlooking the swimming pool, and re-named the Grand Tearoom, it is one of the few places in town graceful enough for a wedding. Shame the Prada team have it booked out from October to January - for the next three years in a row.

But it was our own room, with its view over the harbour to green, serene Rangitoto, huge bed, dishwasher, smart bathroom and stylish deco sofas, that beckoned most. It was so tidy, the decoration so sparse. Those sofas so inviting ...

This, though, was our special weekend getaway, the sun was shining, so we (all right, the valet) dumped our bags and set off for the Viaduct Basin and lunch. I'd been told about the Nudel Bar, where the meals are huge, the view as good as from any of the smart places next door, but we hadn't reckoned on the quality. These soups - tom yum for me and udon Japanese for Brian, both $8 - were fabulous.

All that shrimp, squid, surimi, fish, chicken, broccoli and noodles steaming away in big bowls of fragrant soup was just the thing to set us up for my long-awaited whip round the basin on a yellow water-taxi.

This, another informant had said, was the best $10-worth in town during the America's Cup. It still is. We learned more about the Cup village, the spectator boats, Cup gossip and harbour development in general from 20 minutes listening to our skipper, Andrew Marshall, than I'd managed to absorb over the last two years.

For your information, the half-finished development at the end of Princes Wharf is now on again. One half of the prow-like structure will be apartments, the other half a Hilton Hotel.

The shrink-wrapped yacht sitting forlornly on the side of the harbour is from the Swiss challenge that went under last time - for the sakes of Brad and Russell we hope that doesn't happen again.

The American Express Yacht club ("the only yacht club with no yachts," said Marshall), which is built on a floating barge, is waiting for someone to buy it and tow it away. The lone and lovely Sovereign Lady, is also for sale. Asking price: $17 million.

But the best part of the trip was the water-taxi itself, which skimmed around the Basin, then across to Devonport, taking in a few big washes on its way for excitement.

For winter, the water-taxis are fitted out with plastic hoods to keep out the cold and wind. Also, rather than leaving every 10 minutes, departures are a little more sporadic, although there's always someone on duty from 6.30 am until 11 pm (midnight on the weekend) and they will take you most places in the gulf, including Birkenhead, Okahu Bay, Rangitoto, Brown's Island - even on a romantic night cruise with music and BYO wine.

Back on dry land, we wandered along to see if Princes Wharf was as deserted as people say, now that the Cup excitement is over. The answer is no.

On this semi-sunny afternoon there were quite enough people - and Cafe Limon, where we drank our flat whites, offered better service than last time we attempted during the frenzy of Cup fever.

Next, it was back to the Heritage for a long bath and not enough lurking around in the Heritage's thick towelling dressing gown, then off to the Muddy Farmer bar on the Wyndham side of the complex for some depressing Irish music and a couple of ciders, followed by dinner at Hector's.

Hector's sits in a marvellous seven-storey, open-air atrium complete with glass roof that used to be the escalator core of the Farmers' complex. The restaurant is classy and art-decoed, with sails to shade the sun, huge palms and sculptures made out of more jarrah. The food, superb. I started with plump, succulent scallops. This was followed by a perfectly cooked rack of lamb for me, and braised veal shank for Brian, accompanied by a bottle of 1999 Allan Scott Riesling, crisp-cooked vegetables, and two excellent coffees. Enough.

The biggest problem with our weekend was that it was too short. A reasonable snooze-in the next morning, followed by the big buffet breakfast at Hector's and a play with the parrot and it was time for a late (noon) check-out and dose of culture at the art gallery, where the Hanlys - including Pat's words on life, grief and late marriage - were marvellously, optimistically, Auckland.

Next time, we vowed, as we headed towards the already-lowering sun, we'll take more time. To even scratch the surface of what Auckland has to offer and make the most of a hotel like the Heritage you need two sleeps in the city - or like those lucky Italians, three months.

The week after we stayed, the Heritage Auckland was nominated as a finalist in the NZ Tourism Awards.

CASENOTES

WATER-TAXIS: Depart from Viaduct Basin (opposite the Loaded Hog) 24 hours a day. Cost $10 each for 20-minute tour, ph (09) 357-0700.

CULTURE: Auckland Art Gallery, Toi o Tamaki: Open 10 am-5 pm daily. Free. ph (09) 307-7700.

ACCOMMODATION: Heritage Weekend Escapes cost from $169 (cooked breakfast) to Heritage Retreat $299 (suite, cooked breakfast for four)