Anyway, the shuttle bus wound through wide streets of white-painted timber houses with picket fenced perched on top of leafy hillsides, then through a modern town of warehouses, car showrooms, theatres and pubs. Our destination was the Sharella Motor Inn, which I had booked through Hotelclub.com. The Sharella is a shocking-looking shit-heap in a great location, and for the price, great facilities. I wouldn’t recommend it for a romantic weekend unless the object of your affections is Alan Partridge, but it suited us fine. There’s a great view over the bay and mountains from our window, and it’s located directly opposite the Botanical Gardens.
After a short relax and television break, we tarted ourselves up and ventured into the city centre. We went for the taxi option; they seem to be cheaper than in Sydney. Our destination was Cuba Street which is where we were expecting to find lots of cool hangouts, but we didn’t see anything really amazing, so had a word with a tough-looking bouncer who pointed us to an uninspiring passage in Cuba Mall. We didn’t hold out much hope as we wandered down the steps, but we were in for a pleasant surprise – we’d been fortunate enough to stumble into the Good Luck Club, a little-known secret to which only a select few Wellingtonians are privy. Or so I like to think.
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