Divinely, sublimely lost weekend

Matt Lawrey creates his perfect weekend to entice visitors to move to Nelson for good.

When it comes to impressing visitors, Nelson is hard to beat.

I mean, there is just so much to do. Seriously, I've been known to run family and friends ragged racing around the place trying to squeeze as much as is humanly possible into a long weekend.

It's totally irrational but I'm insanely proud of the beauty of this place, the talent of so many of the people who live here and the many other things about it that make it special.

In fact, the show-off in me finds it a struggle to contain himself when family and friends come visiting. Whenever guests arrive, I don't just want to send them home stuffed with experiences they could only have had in Nelson - I want them to leave wishing they lived here.

So, if I had a three-day weekend, money wasn't an issue and someone was keeping an eye on the kids, here is what I'd do.

First, I'd take over Wakefield Quay House on, funnily enough, Wakefield Quay - No 385, to be precise. I'd do this because I spent my first year in Nelson flatting at the address while its owners, the irrepressible Woodi and Johnny Moore, were gadding about Europe.

It's a stunning heritage bed and breakfast with incredible views of the Cut and it's stuffed with good Nelson art. It's also tastefully decorated and incredibly comfy.

Woodi and Johnny are great company but I'd send them sailing and pretend the place was ours.

On the Friday morning, I'd wake everyone up early and shoot out to Cable Bay for a paddle. I'd make my mate Guy some offer he couldn't refuse to let us borrow his kayaks for the weekend, or go with Cable Bay Kayaks.

I'd take a thermos and give everyone a strong cup of coffee at the Pepin Island end of the beach before launching. It always takes longer to paddle around the island than you think (last time took three hours) but the views are fantastic, the water is clear and, unlike in the Abel Tasman National Park, you're likely to be the only people there.

A big part of the area's attraction for kayakers is that, for the most part, you're on your own. There are no water taxis or sightseeing boats cruising past if you get tired and need a lift. Not only that, but the sea can cut up rough in minutes and the rocky coast isn't somewhere you'd want to be in bad weather, so there is an element of risk, which is good. It's also a top place for spotting dolphins, penguins, gannets and really big starfish.

Halfway around the island, we would find a beach on the Delaware Bay side to park up for morning tea and a little snorkelling. Upon successfully circling Pepin, it would be off to the Cable Bay Cafe for lunch.

On the way back to town, we would pop by the Glen for everyone to get a look at the Boulder Bank and walk off a bit of the lunch before heading back to Wakefield Quay for a nap.

About 3.30pm, I'd order everyone out of bed and then, on bicycles, head into town and up the Maitai for a swim. I love swimming in the sea but nothing really leaves you feeling refreshed like a swim in a river.

From the Maitai, we would pedal directly to Founders Heritage Park to join the throngs at the farmer's market and, more importantly, Founders Brewery.

Friday nights in summer can be a bit crowded but the atmosphere is superb and the beers brilliant. Friday nights also pull some fascinating yet laid-back and friendly punters. Because you can bring your own takeaways on those nights, we'd grab bratwursts from Doris' caravan and scoff lots of the new Nelson-made potato chips they sell at the brewery.

Once we'd had enough beer and bratwurst and chatted to enough people, we'd buy a heap of berries and head home on the bikes along the QEII Drive cycleway, stopping only at the Haven Rd store to pick up some ice-cream.

Soon after, berries and ice-cream would be served on the deck and the evening would be spent drinking wine, admiring the sunset, solving the problems of the world and watching ships slip in and out of the Cut.

Saturday would start slowly. After a lie in and coffees, we would ride into town for a look around the market and have brunch at De Ville, The Suter Cafe or Morrison Street Cafe. Then it would be off to Catchment Gallery to check out the latest exhibition, have a chat with the always affable owner, Wallace Sutherland, and nosey around his fascinating storeroom at the back.

We would also pay a visit to the Suter gallery and Tula and Niles in Nile St - possibly the classiest cool-old-stuff and cool-new-stuff-that-looks-like-cool-old-stuff store in the Southern Hemisphere. Having whetted our appetites for retro collectables, I would also insist we pop into Vintage in Vanguard St.

Now, being a supremely organised character, I would have brought into town a chilly bin that we would fill up with tasty treats from Sushi House in Bank Lane and a nice bottle of bubbles from Freshchoice.

Then it would be back to the Quay for a cuppa and a gingernut.

Feeling refreshed, we'd grab the kayaks, wander down the road and launch them from the ramp at the Nelson Yacht Club before paddling out to the Boulder Bank. Once there, we would head across to Haulashore Island to admire the seals, and paddle along the seaward side of the Boulder Bank to the lighthouse.

Doing things this way would give everyone a sense of how vast and glorious Tasman Bay is, as well as a better appreciation of the scale and uniqueness of the Boulder Bank.

Standing at the foot of the lighthouse, I would surprise and impress our guests by showing off a key to the landmark (available from Port Nelson's main gatehouse in Carkeek St and the Haulashore Island Ferry). Providing no one suffered from vertigo, I'd get everyone up to the top of the lighthouse for sushi and bubbles on the little veranda below the lamp. There is not a lot of room up there but it's an unforgettable place for a picnic, with great views of the bay and the bank.

Now before anyone chastises me about the risks of kayaking and drinking, let me remind you that there are only six glasses in a bottle - divided by four, that's 1.5 glasses each. In other words, no one is going to be getting drunk and falling out of their boat.

After an hour or two drinking in the view, we would paddle back across to the yacht club and head back to base for another kip. Depending on how much energy we had, we'd either have dinner at Hopgoods, or get takeaway curries and play board games.

Sunday would be our day in the country. We would get going early and blast out to Orinoco's exquisite, world-class Monterey House for breakfast before heading back to Kina to check out Darryl Frost's classic Playing With Fire Sculpture Garden. We would also pop by ceramic artist Steve Fullmer's gallery in Tasman, where I would shout our guests mugs of their choice. I would do this because I believe that if Nelson were a mug, it would be one of Steve's mugs.

Next, we'd whip across the highway to visit the eels at the Jester House Cafe and decide that since we were there, and since it's an awesome place, we'd better have some lunch.

After a short walk at Ruby Bay, the next order of the day would be a motor up to Upper Moutere to visit Neudorf Vineyards and Woollaston Estates. At the latter I'd get photos of everyone in front of Marte Szirmay's amazing Yantra for Mahana sculpture.

If time and energy permitted, I'd also be keen to pay ceramic artists Owen Bartlett and Katie Gold a visit in the Upper Moutere village and check out the Moutere Inn, reputed to be New Zealand's oldest pub.

By the time we got home, there wouldn't be much weekend left to enjoy, but I'd do my best to squeeze in a walk on Tahunanui Beach, a swim from the wall on Rocks Rd and, for our final dinner together, fish and chips at the little park at the top of Queens Rd where, as the sun set, I would propose two toasts: one to friendship and one to Nelson.

- © Fairfax NZ News