New Plymouth: like no other?
by Beth Allan
My head was usually buried in a pony’s mane when I lived in New Plymouth as an intermediate student 15 years ago.
Last week my head was firmly buried in the North Taranaki Midweek as I was on a journalism field trip.
So, I’m not really able to comment on the nuances of how the city has changed in the interim.
I do know there is still a mountain nearby, though we didn’t see it as the region was firmly shrouded in rain clouds. And Pukekura Park, which recently claimed the prime blue spots on the Monopoly board, is still beautiful with its walkways meandering through native bush.
I learned from a Devon St bar owner that locals are just starting to see the dire effects P has had on the people who first took the drug up when it hit the city a couple of years ago. And a contact at Australian Worldwide Exploration told me a giant $1.5m Japanese-built hose has just been installed from the outlying oil rig to shore.
But hard news aside, the most important difference between my New Plymouth experience then and now was my attitude toward the Centre City Mall.
When I wasn’t galloping around or negotiating the treacherous pre-teen social scene at school, the mall was the epicentre of fun. As an independent boutique-loving adult, however, it seemed dismal and outdated.
Centre City is situated just across the road from the sea, but of course it has no windows through which to enjoy the view.
At least the city has finally got its act together and given the waterfront a facelift; now we just need another tornado to fully remove the industrial buildings that still blight the shoreline.
In some respects, then, New Plymouth is like Auckland. The best land is misused and you can’t escape the sight of a tall, pointy landmark. Unless of course it’s raining.