Ernesto

(Wellington, New Zealand)

My favourite cafe in Wellington was called Ernesto. If I can work out how to add photos to my blog, I will include one here. ("Uh, you're a web designer" my friend Andrew tells me. True, but I admit I am also somehow Web 2.0, mobile phone, all those things the kids are into these days developmentally challenged, or as they say in Australia 'intellectually mild,' or as they said back in my day 'retarded.')



Wellington has the most striking concentration and abundance of cool cafes, restaurants, shops, pubs, live music venues, nightclubs, places to go. And to my further surprise, most places are open until the wee hours every night of the week, with only some closing a bit earlier on Sunday and Monday night. And to go with it, the people out and about are strikingly attractive, men and women, with a very individualistic and genuine sense of style.

I spent most of my hangin' out, eatin', people watchin', booty shakin' in two adjacent areas. Courtenay Place centres on a main thoroughfare of the same name, a wide boulevard starting at the Embassy Theatre (where the Lord Of The Rings films premiered); packed with upmarket (but not too upmarket) pubs and nightclubs on the one side, more functional budget conscious establishments on the other (with a few notable exceptions and a mermaid style strip club which I must admit I was fascinated to see but decided against on the advice of another traveler who said it was shit), almost as though it was planned that way; and running to a perpendicular with Cuba Street, the other area.

Cuba Street was the real highlight. I hate to call it a pedestrian mall, in fact there's a word on the tip of my tongue for what I'd rather call it, but there it is. For much of it, pedestrians only, and a wonderland of punky clothing shops and tattoo places, rock and roll venues, and some of the coolest cafes and restaurants I've ever seen. Oddly, in the middle stands probably the single most atrociously tacky fountain I've ever seen. It's almost like a giant fuck you and you have to smirk, so out of place amidst the funky and/or well-branded shop fronts and signage.

Not much further along, where it becomes a street again, on one corner stands Ernesto. A converted clothing shop of some sort with cool leadlight windows, I was immediately drawn in by the inviting vibe of the wood floors, merlot leather booths. I was looking for a place to sit down with my laptop.

I asked a waitress if they had wireless internet. I will step out for a moment and tell you about her. She was incredibly cute, had a very quirky dress style, lots of layers and textures and things that looked a little old fashioned, like a funky librarian or orphan, neat healthy brown hair cut about jaw length except with those elf-like wispy bits that were a bit longer, such a sweet voice and soft spoken and I believe French (this is not random, there is a whole strip of French cafes, not that it makes it any more plausible, but I was sure I detected it). I shall call her Amelie. She told me they were supposed to have it but nobody knew if it was working. They gave me a password and I sat down and it worked. So I discovered the internet for the staff and patrons of Ernesto. I can't say for sure but I think she swooned at my masculine achievement.

And the barista, I will call her Svetlana. An at first stern looking woman, with pixie dyed blonde hair and deep set eyes made more stern with heavy eye shadow. But she had the most gorgeous, almost hypnotically beautiful tattoos on her bare arms. Over a few visits, with different outfits, I could see that her body art indeed seemed to cover much of her body, the same geometric vine spiral ancient perhaps arabic motifs occasionally showing themselves on the back of her neck and the small of her back. I wanted to see the whole thing, but of course couldn't think of an uncreepy way to ask.

Miraculously, a few days later the city council was erecting a public exhibition of photographs, enlarged and on display along Courtenay Place. And I was stuck by a female nude, with her back to the camera, with the most amazing body art. After a second, I recognised it as Svetlana, she had a black wig on, but there was no mistaking the pink lotus on her right shoulder, and the vine spiral. Stunning. I asked her about it, and she confirmed, seemed surprised I worked it out, saying some of her friends had to be told it was her. "You must be joking." I said, "absolutely stunning!" I like to think she too swooned.



And of course the food! My first meal, a breakfast burrito. I must say life in Australia has made me a sucker for the Mexican item on the menu. Much to my delight it was delicious. Beans, eggs, cheese, a spicy salsa that actually had some taste to it, guacamole. Excellent! I had it again another day as well. And their salmon & poached eggs on hash browns with hollandaise was amazing. By far the most fabulous hash browns I've sampled. Every breakfast was fantastic. And the coffee was outstanding as well.

If you ever find yourself in Wellington, make sure you pay a visit. And if you're lucky, Svetlana and Amelie will have gotten over their embarrassing infatuation with me.