Absolutely Positively Wellington has once again demonstrated its reputation as the go-to town for funkiness and creativity.

Unfortunately, it has also demonstrated that funkiness and creativity isn't all that crash hot on boring things like organising functional bus systems and cycleways. But never mind.

Some may be unaware the capital is in commuter meltdown mode. In particular, their new Metlink bus system has missed the bus bigly.

Under the new system, shivering Wellingtonians cluster miserably around bus stops in Newtown, Karori or Mornington in the wild and vain hope that an actual bus might finally hove into view.


In the meantime, errant and empty Wellington city buses have been spotted as far afield as Eketahuna, with bewildered drivers staggering from their vehicles babbling incoherently about route canals and virtual timetables. The odd bus seen still within the precincts of the city itself apparently is more reminiscent of bussing in the sub-continent, with swarms of passengers piled high on the roof and hanging off any handhold affording a hint of a grip.

All in all, it's a debacle of sesquicentennial quality. But intrepid Wellywooders have taken the BS by the horns and turned themselves into crocodiles - yes, the good old crocodile "walking buses" so beloved of primary schoolers.

Now, the city and environs are astir with sinuous lines of commuters snaking their way over the challenging Wellington topography, deftly negotiating the many tight turns and pinched byways leading to the nation's vital core.

So enthusiastic has been this groundswell of reptilian locomotion, that some of the "crocs" have been heard to burst into spontaneous song.

It's many a year since the refrains of old classics like This Old Man - a-knick-knacking and paddywhacking - and She'll Be Coming Around the Mountain have echoed around city hills and dales.

Commuters from alt-left pockets have even been heard lustily rendering Michael Row the Boat Ashore, Kumbaya, and We Shall Overcome. On some of the tighter turns and steeper pitches, crocs have been seen adopting conga line tactics, with punters clasping the pair of hips in front to maintain contact and boost momentum.

"It's a great way to meet people," effused one commuter. "Neighbours I've studiously ignored for years, I'm now hands-on with, and having a good old yarn as we croc on the pace."

There are numerous ancillary benefits, too. As proponents of crocodiles for the more juvenile assert: "Reduced car travel means environmental benefits, and an active start to the day ensures health benefits and increases social interaction.


"Research has shown that children who walk, scoot or cycle to school arrive more alert and ready to learn."

Wellington seniors are discovering that similar benefits also accrue to them after rockin' with the croc.

Supervisors report that previously near-moribund public servants are throwing off their cardigans and producing working papers by the tonne, office workers eschew Facebooking or Twittering during working hours in favour of trawling healthy lifestyle sites, and online dating site usage has plummeted as crocodilers develop contacts made inline.

In fact, many Wellingtonians are lauding the crocodile expresses as the real Metlink of Wellington - as in "I met so-and-so on the croc" - while the ostensible Metlink trips over its own dragging chain.

Greater Wellington Regional Council chairman Chris Laidlaw was a gun All Black halfback on the basis of his ball distribution skills but - alas - his bus distribution has yet to get match fit.

It is recommended that Wellington City councillors and GWRC councillors get themselves into a crocodile pronto. It's the only bus line that seems to be going anywhere.