Taranaki: Growing creative geniusby Jenny Nicholls
Gardens of Invention
Jenny Nicholls goes to Taranaki to smell the roses – and the creativity.
“So, where are you from?” asked the Auckland taxi driver, who was from Abuja, Nigeria.
“I have heard of it,” the Abujan said, politely.
“On a map of New Zealand, it is the left-hand bulge,” I explained, tracing an unconsciously salacious gesture in the air. “It is very green. You can grow anything there.”
“Mangoes?” he asked, hopefully.
Tall mango trees would defeat the most ambitious Taranaki glasshouse owner. Nonetheless, the province that plunges into the Tasman Sea like New Zealand’s green thumb is almost ridiculously fertile.
I grew up on two dairy farms in North Taranaki, and our milk tank sometimes overflowed. Evergreen paddocks and plenty of rain kept my father’s friesians fat and their udders full.
I was amazed when, as an adult, I saw spidery irrigation devices in Canterbury. Irrigating dairy farms?
Taranaki’s dark loamy soil, a volcanic gift from the mountain, is rich and free-draining. Here, money grows not on trees but rolling pastures. And studded between these verdant paddocks, sheltered from prevailing westerlies by belts of trees, are hidden gardens of Impressionistic lushness and imagination.
Each year in spring, some of the most ingenious gardeners in Taranaki open their gates for a festival that’s 30 years old this year (October 27-November 5, www.gardenfestnz.co.nz). Tootling around the mountain to see the rhododendrons at Pukeiti is getting to be as much of a seasonal tradition here as new potatoes, Womad, or being cast face-first into black sand by a dumping summer wave at Wai-iti Beach.
On your road trip, you’ll find acres of blowsy rhodos, roses and clivias, hostas, ferns and palms in every shade of green, mad floral borders and grass tennis courts, dreamy orchards, fancy-wancy clipped parterres, and hanging baskets dripping with a painter’s colours.
As the years pass, the garden festival has transmogrified into the “Powerco Taranaki Garden Spectacular”, and this year boasts 47 gardens. To see them all requires a trip around Mt Taranaki, from Waitara to Opunake to Hawera, and back up through Eltham, Stratford and Inglewood to New Plymouth. Three great gardens on your supplied map are owned by the Taranaki Regional Council: Hollard, Tupare and the dazzling rhododendron-fest Pukeiti, which is a bit like being trapped in a Karl Maughan painting. Like the stunning, 52ha, Victorian-era Pukekura Park in the centre of New Plymouth, these are open all year.
Back when I sweated over algebra at New Plymouth Girls High, the mountain was still popularly named after an English earl, and the Magog motorcycle gang held court at the elegantly disintegrating White Hart Hotel. A traumatised friend who stayed there once told me he thought New Plymouth was a “tough town, a macho town”.
How times have changed. In the past decade, the city has quietly become groovy.
The Len Lye Centre – a contemporary art museum with architecture to beat anything in Auckland or Wellington – gleams magnificently downtown. Reflected in its shimmering, rippling flanks is a chic, refurbished White Hart Hotel, with an atrium that attracts enough hipsters on a Tuesday to resemble Ponsonby Rd on a Friday.
Truly great restaurants such as Social Kitchen, housed in a renovated Salvation Army Hall in the centre of town,
are perpetually booked. Don’t expect to walk in and find a table at night. You won’t.
The Coastal Walkway is a civic marvel: a sea-edge promenade along the entire length of the city, from Bell Block to Port Taranaki. The groovers you saw the previous night over Bang Bang Chicken Salad at the White Hart’s Snug Lounge cycle past in swarms – black lycra on electric bikes.
The Te Rewa Rewa Bridge on the walkway really does look like a whale’s skeleton, and frames Mt Taranaki in its ribs as photogenically as the fire engine-red Victorian Poet’s Bridge in Pukekura Park.
Taranaki might be rubbish at growing mangoes. But creative genius is another thing entirely.
This was published in the October 2017 issue of North & South.
Is it right that while the loafer, the gambler, the drunkard, and even the wife-beater has a vote, earnest, educated and refined women are denied it?Read more
Mary Ann Müller was fighting for women’s rights before Kate Sheppard even arrived here, but her pioneering contribution to the cause is little known.Read more
Marilyn Waring is nearing the last chapter of an account of her time as an MP, which ended abruptly with the calling of a snap election.Read more
Joe Stephenson’s tender documentary Playing the Part looks at McKellen's life as an actor, activist and perpetual wizard.Read more
Burgers, milkshakes and fries are not rare things to find in Auckland, so The Chosen Bun's owners were smart to be very picky about their ingredients.Read more
Australian-New Zealander Jennifer Curtin says the lopsided nature of the Bledisloe Cup pales in comparison to the slump in transtasman relations.Read more