Comment: Wind or quake? Wellington's bummer summer

Gale force winds are a fact of life this summer. Photo / Mark Mitchell

COMMENT:

Welcome to Wellington, where you can't tell the difference between an earthquake and a gust of wind.

The capital is commonly referred to as "windy Wellington" but this summer really feels like more of a rip off than usual.

The first reports of the city's "bummer summer" emerged in early January. 'Hold on', the weather commentators said, 'February and March will be better', they said.

So I waited, I told myself to be patient, and now I'm done. The roaring northerly winds and grey clouds are relentless.

Love summer. Listen to that wind ☀️ pic.twitter.com/I9qh2zHzMj

— Glen Scanlon (@glen_scanlon) February 4, 2020

It takes approximately 40 seconds walking down Molesworth St for me to get extremely agitated by the wind.

I'm sure my expression mirrors those of other pedestrians I see as I audibly grunt my displeasure.

One day this week I was feeling optimistic and left my hair untied, an amateur move.

With my coffee in one hand, I was left to choose between holding on to my dress and seeing in front of me as my hair flew up in front of my face.

I chose my skirt and ended up looking like Bridget Jones after losing her head scarf on route to her romantic getaway in a convertible.

But it wasn't as bad as another day this week where I couldn't even stand up and was terrified a photographer from the local newspaper would be out snapping "windy file shots".

Not that there isn't heaps to love about Wellington summer, but I am taking applications for a different country to live in pic.twitter.com/X9NcRXTAci

— Alie Benge (@aliebenge3) February 4, 2020

My flatmate came through the door yesterday in a fluster after a battle with her own skirt on the walk home from work.

About half an hour earlier I had entered through the same door and yelled my frustrations in a grotesque display of various swear words.

My other flatmate came down the stairs to join the communal venting before we decided to open a bottle of wine. Then it started raining.

My old boss posted a video of swirling pōhutukawa trees on social media. I private messaged him saying I had taken to drinking wine in an effort to deal with the weather.

He replied saying he had too.

"Bottoms up".

A deep 5.5 magnitude earthquake struck off the coast of Tauranga last night and was felt throughout the North Island.

I didn't even flinch thinking it was just another gust of wind.

For example, when I'm reading in my bedroom with the window open, my entire bed moves in a northerly wind.

Wellington - where you can't tell if it's the wind or an earthquake shaking your house #eqnz

— Chris Hormann (@TheMyrka) February 4, 2020

My window looks on to the hill above Thorndon where I have my own personal view of swirling pōhutukawa trees.

One look at those for the past three days has been enough to stop me going for morning runs. Not running has turned into a weather protest of sorts.

I'd rather not be transported back to the days my rowing coach fondly referred to as "resistance training" where he'd make us sprint into the wind outside Te Papa.

This morning I woke up early to be at work by 7am, having given up on the idea of morning exercise altogether.

I opened the front door bracing myself for a slap in the face, but instead was greeted with a breeze.

I immediately checked the MetService website on my phone and did a gleeful jump at the prospect of a mild southerly as opposed to a howling northerly.

But I held no hope the reprieve would last long.

It started raining five minutes later.