Going home: Five-minute Nelson picks up the pace

Nelson is booming, but some locals worry about the price of progress. KATHERINE HOBY goes home for a look.

One of the best things about the Nelson I knew was that it was a 'five-minute town'.

From our beloved number 41, a large two-storeyed wooden house guarded by two huge oak trees, I could walk five minutes and, depending on which direction I headed, I would end up in the centre of town, up the Brook or Maitai River walkways, or in Fairfield Park (where I suffered my first kiss and a five minute romance with a Nelson College boy).

Just a few minutes from home was Kandy Korner, where we slurped sticky pineapple Fru-Jus and where shop staff patiently catered to those wanting "two of those two cent pink ones" or inquiring "how much are the jet planes again?".

They still do, I'm told.

Five minutes in the car took us to Tahunanui Beach, a vast central spread which, at different spots is good for walking dogs, a family outing, or a lovers' fumble in the grass.

It still takes five minutes to get to the city centre, but it is much more urban-looking than the the hippie-haven Nelson of the 1970s, or the young family nest of the 1980s.

Nelson city's streets are now lined with shops which have a sharper image. Many could be on the streets of Auckland or Wellington.

Alongside the family businesses such as Trathen's Fabrics are chic cafes and enticing shops.

But the arts and crafts feel still exists. The Saturday morning carpark market is immensely popular with locals and visitors.

Stalls offer everything from home-made cheeses and candles to second-hand books, from fresh fruit, flowers and vegetables to jewellery and ten dollar sunglasses.

Buskers seek a few dollars with a variety of instruments, from bagpipes to recorders to a fiddle.

In the past 13 years, the Wearable Art Awards have taken Nelson from amateur to professional in fashion-art.

Some of the fantastic garments created since 1987 are now on show at the World of Wearable Art museum, opened in October.

At the awards shows, now spanning four nights each September, the definition of fabric is stretched beyond conventional bounds. Garments are constructed of wire, wood and wallpaper, as well as more traditional materials such as wool.

The experience should definitely be described as theatre, rather than as a fashion parade. It is meticulously choreographed and produced.

When I met World of Wearable Art creative director Suzie Moncrieff last month, , she told me planning had started for next year's shows, although this year's creations had barely been packed away.

Moncrieff thinks Nelson is more vibrant than it used to.

"It has become popular with more than retired people, more than hippie artists. It is like a magnet to people from all walks now."

Nelson has "come of age" in the last two to three years, she says.

"It has become trendy but somehow has lost none of its charm. I feel very proud to call this home. Living here makes you feel good to be alive."

The huge increase in the number of people coming to Nelson for events such as the Wearable Arts shows has contributed to the city's rising house prices and a mushrooming of upmarket cafes and restaurants.

The average price of a house in 1989 was $95,000. It is now $154,000.

One of the new breed of restaurants is Lambretta's, which has been open just over two years.

Its decor is based on the Lambretta motorscooter - its image adorns the walls - and the food is mainly Italian.

As we sit chatting on an unusually grey Nelson day, co-owner Rhys Odey , greets several people by name as they enter.

He admits to some nerves when Lambretta's opened.

"We were pretty sure of what we were doing, but was Nelson really ready for this?"

Nelson was.

"We thought it would take us a good three years to pay off the business," says Odey. "It took eight months."

But he is wary of becoming complacent, citing one new bar that he believes is facing an uphill struggle.

"They've spent about a million bucks to set up, but you have to sell an awful lot of beer, an awful lot of food, an awful lot of coffee to recoup a million."

Odey says watching Nelson flourish has been incredible.

"I'm sure, too, that Nelson isn't going to go up in little increments of tourism - it's going to go off the scale."

Some of the Tasman area's natural attractions already have. Almost every person I know who grew up in Nelson has visited the Abel Tasman National Park.

But the numbers visiting the park have swelled enormously since my childhood.

In the high season it is impossible to walk its popular tracks without coming across others.

A conservative Department of Conservation estimate puts the annual number of visitors at 180,000.

The number of overnighters is at 33,000 and going up at least five per cent a year.

It seems the "best-kept secret" label has been removed from Nelson, and many of its surrounding attractions.

In 1989, Nelson was named New Zealand's top town by North and South magazine, mainly because it was such a great place to raise a family.

Unspoilt beaches, lakes, and native bush reserves were almost literally a stone's throw away.

In some ways, this has not changed. Lake Rotoiti is a great spot for a day trip or for a few days stay, and is just over an hour from town.

One of my childhood holiday destinations, Tata Beach, is two hours drive. I don't know about our regular bach with its Superman curtains and stack of Mills and Boons, but the baches right on the beach are rich real estate now.

Just an hour away over the hill is Kaiteriteri, top holiday spot for many families from Nelson and further afield for years.

But Little Kaiteriteri, next door, has overshadowed its big sister in terms of development.

I mourn the demise of the traditional New Zealand bach. It used to be that to get away from it all, you had to suffer the sad decor, the lukewarm showers, or the buzz of the granddaddy of all daddylonglegs when you opened the bedroom doors. It was all part of the holiday experience.

Kaiteriteri Motor Camp owner Rob Guild has watched the housing development with a wary eye.

He and his wife have managed the camp for six years, and were proprietors of the sole beachfront shop before that.

Kaiteriteri has not changed a lot, he says.



But the view he sees of neighbouring Little Kaiteriteri from his office window has changed a great deal.

"There used to be two very small typical baches in Little Kaiteri," he says.

"The one remaining little bach is being rebuilt and the holiday homes there have become very grand."

"Unfortunately, the first one that went up was pretty flash and the others have followed suit, trying to one-up each other."

Guild says he would never stand in the way of progress, but it is with evident relief that he tells me that most of Kaiteriteri is a recreational reserve, of which he is manager. As a reserve, it cannot be developed.

A newspaper article he read was headlined "Kaiteriteri could be another Queenstown".

"It could never be," Guild says firmly.

"Ninety per cent of people come here because of what it is, not what it could be."

When the Guilds moved to Kaiteriteri, a decent property was affordable. Now the average price is between $400,000 and $500,000.

"There are not too many of the old-style bach now. The old days of long drops and cold showers are really gone. I guess progress is bound to happen."

He's right, but one detects a note of regret in his voice.

I feel the same way. I'm all for progress too - just as long as it doesn't come at the cost of one-hour central city parking for 50 cents, or the song of a lone tui in the middle of Nelson.

* Katherine Hoby is a Herald news reporter.