Te Aro's slow recovery from bypass surgery

BY NIKKI MACDONALD

Three years after the first cars drove along Wellington's inner-city bypass  amid howls of anguish over a community destroyed,  Wellington's alternative Te Aro is still a community divided.

The grumpy graffiti painted on the iron roof of the Radical Social Centre at 128 Abel Smith St once said it all: ''You don't need to build this road and destroy communities.''  

The old villa now seems slumped in defeat, a new ''Te Urewera is Tuhoe Land'' banner testament to its inhabitants' long since redirected protest efforts.

But a new community is  emerging. For the first time since a chunk of Te Aro was bulldozed to build Wellington's inner-city bypass three years ago, life is returning to the historical cottages removed to make way for the traffic.

The ghost town is finally exorcising the spectre of almost five decades of limbo.

The area has been described as a wasteland, vacant theme park and magnet for drunks, prostitutes, vandals and vagrants. But it has never been called home. Until now.

Shaun Hadfield moved into 17 Kensington St three weeks ago, with three flatmates.

The 1860s cottage is one of 17  relocations that the New Zealand Transport Agency put out to tender in January. It was in such bad shape it collapsed during the move from 270 Cuba St, and had to be completely rebuilt.

The 21-year-old quantity surveyor bought the beige villa with his brother, Ben, and has transformed it into a sharp blend of heritage and modern, with glassy kitchen and bathrooms offsetting slat doors and sash windows.

It is immaculate, inside and out, except for the tag scratched into a back window - a reminder that vacancy brings vandalism.

The slow occupation of the relocated villas is the beginning of the final chapter for a $40 million road first
mooted 47 years ago, which has been constantly dogged by opposition.

There were meetings, protests and even ''Bypass My Ass'' T-shirts by Starfish designer Laurie Foon.  

Caught in limbo, century-old properties fell into disrepair, then dereliction.

Eventually the concrete won out and the area which takes in Tonks Grove, Oak Park Ave and the sections of Cuba and Willis streets abutting the bypass, began to change forever.

Of the 17 properties tendered, all but two - the former Bodega bar and the old Stagecraft Theatre in Kensington St - have either settled or are in the process of settling.

Your Weekend investigations suggest the renovations will mostly house young professionals, families and creative businesses.

Further down Kensington St, rolls of Pink Batts and stacks of stripped out timber accompany the clatter of construction.

Brett Mainey chatters excitedly as he conducts an impromptu tour of the three villas he is renovating as long-term rentals.

Mainey was the first developer off the blocks, having sorted his consents well before picking up the keys. He's splitting the three houses into five four-bedroom residences.

It's a mammoth job -  inner walls are being stripped out and rooms converted to a more modern, open-plan layout.

The two storeys of two of the villas will become separate flats.

Number 23, the ''gem'' at the end of the dead-end lane, will remain intact, but is being converted to open plan, with a new kitchen and three new bathrooms.

Mainey is aiming the refurbishment at young professionals prepared to pay upwards of $185 a week per room.
No 23 is already advertised, for $850 a week, and he expects to finish the other two by the beginning of October.

But even with their drastic makeover, the houses are marked by their controversial past.

''It's been an interesting process pulling them apart. We found writing by the protesters. We think it will be amazing when it is finished. Maybe people will reconsider their opposition.''

For as long as the bypass has been proposed, it has had its critics. They argued it was unnecessary, ineffective and would destroy the vibrant, quirky and creative Te Aro community.

Protest efforts may have been redirected, but the criticisms linger.

Veteran activist Sam Buchanan lived at 128 Abel Smith St for three years, in time to witness the bypass's first fatal accident.

He helped make the building liveable, after it was looted, right down to the floorboards, when people believed it would be demolished to accommodate the through road.

Inside, it's surprisingly homely. The kitchen shelves are stacked with herbs and spices, the whiteboard thick with messages.

Out the back, the free community bike workshop is a tangle of steel, rubber and 10-speed skeletons. As part of a community project, mechanics donate their time to help cyclists learn to maintain their bikes.

Though he says the area is ''still quite nice'', Buchanan is nostalgic for Te Aro's walkability and working-class buzz.

''Upper Cuba St was a gathering place. It felt like maybe it was gravity. Everybody rolls down the hills and ends up in the same place.

"Unlike Christchurch and Auckland, Wellington has a real centre. There's still a certain amount of that in Lower Cuba, but the bypass has knocked out a chunk of it.

''The cities in the world that really thrive are the ones with an inner-city culture, with lots of residents. And they're not the wealthy apartment owners, who walk up three storeys and then you are cut off. They're the people who say, 'I'm not just living in this house, this whole area is mine'.''

Like many in the pre-bypass community, Buchanan has now moved out, to equally arty Paekakariki.

He's just back for a brief urban fix.

He feels the area's art and politics character has been diluted by the exodus of creatives, pushed out by gentrification and rising rents.

Few would argue the character of bypassville has changed. But cities are constantly evolving. And in some respects the development has defied predictions.

Upper Cuba St remains fully tenanted, with newcomers like the Nut Shop replacing Mr Smiles World of Curios.

Vestiges of the old Te Aro remain. Upper Cuba St community venue Thistle Hall perpetuates the area's alternative ethos. ''Heal Your Life,'' says one flier in  the front window. ''Turn fear into action,'' exhorts another.

There's massive demand from aspiring artists wanting to show their work in the adjoining airy gallery, for just $160 a week.

In true egalitarian tradition, manager Jane Duthie draws names from a hat.

And community spirit endures  - the taxi chit guy across the road still runs out to warn her that parking wardens have just chalked her car tyres.

But Te Aro's identity has been irrevocably changed, as more upmarket housing has pushed out cheap-living bohemian types, Duthie argues.

''The feeling you used to get walking up here with all the little shops, that's gone to a point. There's still a community here and we feel part of that. But it's a different one.''   

The bypass has been a double-edged sword for the venue, which, since 1907, has served as tea storehouse, dance hall, punk HQ and Scottish country dancing hub.

Now marooned from the rest of Cuba St, the centre sees less foot traffic, as pedestrians, particularly out-of-towners, hit the bypass and assume it's the shopping precinct boundary.

''You see people walking up here, they look a bit confused: have we finished with Cuba St now? Is there any point walking up there? Is this the end of town?''

On this chilly day there's a constant thrum of traffic, but also a steady clip of pedestrians crossing Karo Drive and continuing up to Webb St.

Most stride purposefully, hunched against the sharp breeze, not pausing to check out the hall, tailor, beauty clinic and nut store in between.

The strip's isolation is exacerbated by the empty real estate across the asphalt divide. Duthie hopes shops will fill the vacant space.

''I've been looking at those empty places far too long.'' 

But the bypass has also been an advertising boon for Thistle Hall.

At Martha's Pantry opposite, Mary McLeod is also looking forward to having neighbours.

She's eyeing up one of the relocated shops to expand her cafe. The bypass hasn't stymied her business, but she's still not a fan.  

''I lived through the work taking place. This building was supposed to be demolished. I hate it, darling. It cuts through the city. People treat it like a highway. It's amazing there hasn't been an accident. It's just awful the way it has worked.''

The new face of post-bypass Te Aro is blood red, with a threatening smirk and green cat eyes. He's the Hell Pizza devil, without the horns, and he dominates the wall of one of Te Aro's newest arrivals, Inject Design.

These are the guys behind the Hell coffin box, with a client list that doubles as a resume of hip Wellington institutions  Mojo coffee, Matterhorn bar, Fat Freddy's Drop.

Director Harry A'Court, 28, started the business about seven years ago, after emerging with a design qualification to find that no one would hire him without experience. 

He started out living and working in a Holland St basement, door-knocking funky start-up companies.

The underground, under-the-radar location suited the company's edgy image, but when the Willis St property came up about nine months ago, A'Court was tempted by the central location and building character.

The team is still secreted behind frosted windows, but the business logo is slapped across the front window, and an Inject-designed Fat Freddy's poster hangs on the side.

''We decided to be more of a landmark,'' A'Court explains.

Inside, Inject's five designers sit at Macs. Dilapidated pre-bypass grunge it's not. The enormous black cylinder designer light shades were picked up from Imbibe restaurant's sellout sale. There's music on in the background. Leather and denim replace suits and ties.

Directly abutting the bypass, the studio is affected by traffic noise. But, given the volume of cars waiting at the lights, it has to be the cheapest billboard in town. There's plenty of foot traffic, but the team still gets most of its work from referrals.

And it's awfully quiet. Opposite, the old Bodega bar and two shops  274 and 276 Willis  remain lifeless shells. Caution cordons seal off interior hazards, ceiling holes gape.

And that won't change in a hurry -  the Bodega building was one of only two not to sell in the Transport Agency's tender.

The old Citron restaurant also stands abandoned.  A'Court is hoping for cafes or restaurants to liven the area.
Both 274 and 276 Willis and 270, 272 and 274 Cuba have been bought by Loo & Moore Property Management.

While the Cuba St properties are likely to house a flat and shop, the roomy Willis St buildings would be ideal for an engineer, architect, lawyer or fashion designer who wants a home, office and showroom all in the same building, John Moore says.

Despite the terrible retail market, he expects to have tenants in by early next year.

Now 61, he remembers leasing bypass land at the age of 20. The lease was fixed for six months, because the land could be needed for the motorway extension at any time.  

''It's been an incredibly long process. That went on for years. The government has controlled the area for the last 40 years. That's why the whole area was so run down.''

The remaining bypass relocations will be a mix of family homes and rentals.

Jeff Montgomery's two Tonks Grove villas will be converted into serviced tourist apartments, expected to be finished at the end of the month.

They're already fully booked for the Rugby World Cup and the sevens. Next door is an owner-occupier, hoping to move in by Christmas.

Along Karo Drive, past 128 Abel Smith and right towards Oak Park Ave, the old Catacombs community drop-in centre has been bought as a family home by a university lecturer and CBD business owner.

''We loved what it was about, the history of it as a welcoming place to socialise and relax. We want to resurrect that, make it a place where people can visit, for the big community we are part of.''

They hope to finish renovations in time for the 25th anniversary of their arrival in New Zealand, and their daughter's 21st birthday, in November.

Your Weekend understands the neighbouring house has also been bought by a family, but there are no signs of activity in the large villa.

So long as buildings remain vacant, vandalism will continue.  The ink is still wet on the wall of the old Stagecraft Theatre.

One of Montgomery's Tonks Grove villas has also been tagged, and 276 Cuba bears the scrawl ''meth''.

Gary Tonks -  the spokesman for the family that built many of the 19th-century villas to accommodate their brickworks staff  - has been driven to distraction by the interminable delays that have made the historic buildings vulnerable to vandals.

But he's delighted to finally see signs of life, and impeccable interior renovations. ''Occupancy is the key. A house is just a house.

With occupancy it becomes a home, vibrant with living, real people.''

The bypass has undoubtedly changed Te Aro, although it's too early to determine its eventual shape. But has it achieved its goal of a less congested, safer, and more efficient route between the The Terrace Tunnel and the Basin Reserve?

The departure from the original trench design, to cut costs, arguably slashed the time-saving benefits, as the bypass continually crosses north-south traffic.  

A Dominion Posexperiment in 2007 found the new road cut about two minutes off a peak-hour city-to-airport trip, and nine minutes off the return trip.

But the north-south journey from the railway station to Brooklyn, heavy with traffic lights weighted in favour of the bypass, was as slow or slower.

When we repeated the experiment in the past month the north-south trip was on average one minute quicker than in 2007, but still slower than pre-bypass.

Times for the city to airport route were comparable.
A July 2008 traffic survey found no significant change in the number of cars using the bypass during peak periods.

Fewer cars used Ghuznee St as southbound traffic shifted to Vivian St. However, traffic volumes had doubled in parts of Willis St, especially at the junction with Karo Drive.

The Transport Agency says further investigations will be done  after changes to the Basin Reserve area.
Some remain doubtful that the road's benefits were worth the cost.

Aro Valley resident and former anti-bypass campaigner Roland Sapsford won't use the bypass on principle and says most of the predicted negatives have eventuated.

But even he says life goes on.  And he's pleased Thistle Hall and the heritage buildings have been retained, and the noise has not been as horrific as expected. He still walks to Cuba St to drop off his weedeater for repair at Ellmers Mowers.

 ''That's the part of Wellington where I still feel at home. The people have scattered, but the relationships and friendships are still intact.'' 

- © Fairfax NZ News