Mommy, I'm moving to Wellington

While exploring Wellington, I felt like a fat kid bumping into a giant piece of pie. And meeting his chocolate and candy friends. In Cuba Street, Ginger beer comes in colourful hippy bottles, there are more hidden cocktail bars then there are normal pubs, in Sweet Mothers Kitchen you are guaranteed to gain kilos the sweetest way possible and supermarkets sell Reese's chocolate peanut butter cups with WHITE CHOCOLATE. All my clothes shrunk! But that is allright, because everything is awesome in Wellington. Churches are awesome. Kids are awesome. The view from our balcony is awesome. Even toilets are awesome. But clowns are still scary as hell.

Why there should be twelve Novembers a year

Everyone loves November! If you forget about the freezing temperatures, the depressively dark days (I'm talking Belgium here), the fact that where ever you go, you will arrive smelling like wet dog, the general low mood and blue hands, but focus on the one good thing that makes November wear the Month Of The Year crown.

No, not the hot chocolate picnics or the endless cuddling in front of the fire place. I'm talking about the MOUSTACHES. All of them! The eleventh month of every year turns into the beautiful month of Movember. I don't know about you, but furry upperlips make me do happy dances around the streets of Wellington. After nearly nine hours of hitch-hiking from Napier to Windy Welly, the first thing I noticed was the evening breeze blowing wind through the moustache of each and every man we passed. I felt at home right away.

This is the idea: men stop shaving their moustaches for 30 days. By doing this in Movember, gentlemen (men with moustaches are allowed to be named gentlemen, whether or not they open doors and carry heavy bags) highlight mens health issues and raise funds for charities like The Prostate Cancer Foundation. While friends at home don't mind a warm hairy face in wintertime, in sunny New Zealand men take Movember to another level. Not one kiwi dares to show his face to the world without at least a couple of proud hairs shining underneath his nose. And Wellington seems to be the place where they all get together and walk around, waving their furry faces in the wind.
I don't think I ever want to leave this city.