OUR PLACE: Hastings stroll - my cup of tea

E XPLORING central Hastings isn't high on tourists' priorities. I doubt many Hawke's Bay residents would make a special trip but a sunny autumn day won me over to King St.
The street is almost empty except at the north end, the Wattie's end. I start outside St Matthew's Church where the morning light makes the autumn colours glow. It's a little after 8am and the sun is already promising a warm day.
The War Memorial still has poppies from the weekend and I spare a moment to appreciate the consistent and genuine respect we give to our veterans on Anzac Day. After more than 90 years apathy has yet to set in, and the high turnout at Anzac services indicates that we will remember them for many years to come.
My reflection is broken by two young girls bickering on their way to school. "Don't forget to get your lunch from your classroom," the older one orders.
I recognise the big-sister tone, having used it frequently myself. The younger girl adopts a petulant stomp that is also immediately familiar, arms crossed, scowl visible from 20 metres. Some family dynamics will never change.
The shopping area is empty, most places open at 9am and I imagine retailers are already busy preparing. I'm surprised to see shadows moving inside Cru Bar, but I suppose they're preparing for their day along with everyone else.
The whine of machinery and thudding of heavy work come from inside Watties but the outside is fairly empty. I can see through a fence some men on their smoko break and I wonder how early their day started.
I stop for a while to watch the finesse of a forklift loading a truck. Pallets of glinting cans are loaded from back to front, it's somewhat hypnotic and I watch until they finish. There is practiced familiarity to the work, with no signal I see the truck drives away as soon as the forklift is done, on its way to the next stage. The forklift disappears inside and starts bringing out more can-loads, ready for the next truck.
It must be loud and busy inside this complex, I'm surprised how little noise and movement spills out.
I've wandered enough, I'm ready to sit and watch the King St world go by. I passed a cafe on my way up and the smell of fresh baking tempts me into Sutto Caffe for a cup of tea.
It's just after 9am and there are plenty of business people and office workers grabbing their morning pick-me-up. I pick a seat outside in the sun and enjoy the opportunity to people watch.
My tea arrives and I'm instantly won over. I get a lovely china cup and a pot of water, the tea has not been added yet and I can see it's a good brand - loose leaves in a silk bag.
There's a respect given to coffee that tea rarely gets; people nod with understanding when a coffee is cold or burnt but a bag in water should be good enough for those of us who aren't java fans. I've grown used to drinking over-brewed tea as coffee-minded baristas throw bag into pot before starting my companions' coffees. The difference here is a pleasure.
A couple holding hands wander into the cafe and out again to sit behind me in the sun. A three-day weekend or a morning off? They're joined by a friend with a baby and conversation reaches full speed. I don't bother eavesdropping, it's nice to have the fast, rhythmic chatter of friendship accompanying my solitary observation.
An older man, probably in his 70s, passes on the other side of the road. His jacket is over his shoulder and his suit pants are well tailored. I decide from his swagger that he was something of a James Dean in his day and I hope he thrills his grandchildren with tales of fast cars and wild women.
A businessman meanders up and down outside the cafe talking on his cell about directions and meetings, and a woman in a suit heads down Heretaunga St with two takeaway coffees.
The cafe owner pops out to pick something up. On his way past he makes eye contact and smiles.
"Good spot you've got there."
Graeme Smith returned to Hastings and bought Sutto just a year ago after 30 years in the cafe business. Hastings is more of a bakery place, he says, but that was one of the draws.
"People ask me why I've come to Hastings when there's no cafe culture, I say 'Because there's no cafe culture!"'
As we stand in the doorway he smiles at everyone who comes in and greets most with familiarity. I tell him I'll be back next week without my notepad for tea and a muffin.
I walk back to the car, passing shops now open for business. The sun is overhead and the street looks its best. Greenery glows, colours are at their brightest and I'm reluctant to leave this cheerful and leisurely atmosphere.
I'm new to Hawke's Bay and when Napier and Havelock North residents ask about living in Hastings there's a universal head-tilt and tone of concern.
They're surprised when I tell them I like it.
It may not have Napier's views or Havelock's boutiques but I'm looking forward to getting to know this town and its hidden pockets.
* "Our Place" is an occasional series which runs when space permits in Hawke's Bay Today.