A clear blue sky on the last day of level 4 lockdown in Auckland with a view of the Hauraki Gulf and Rangitoto from Narrowneck Beach. Photo / Penelope Venuto
A clear blue sky on the last day of level 4 lockdown in Auckland with a view of the Hauraki Gulf and Rangitoto from Narrowneck Beach. Photo / Penelope Venuto
COMMENT This is the way one of the darkest periods in New Zealand history ends: in sunshine, a hot, gorgeous day, bright light blazing on the flat blue waters of the isthmus. Auckland, you beauty. The final day of alert level 4 lockdown felt like just another lovely day in summer.
No wonder the rest of the country hates us. A text at midday, from dismal Wellington: "It's gloomy as. It looks like 6 or 7pm outside." Not here, not in the city without sails – strange to look out at the sparkling Waitemata these past five weeks of lockdown and not see a single sailing boat.
"No wonder the rest of the country hates us." Auckland turns on another stunner to end lockdown. Photo / Brett Phibbs
Typical Auckland to celebrate the end of a narrow, anxious, deathly era by turning on such beautiful weather. Even so, among all the obvious good vibes of families out and about, everyone in shorts, the smoke of barbecues caressing the air, the day feels significant. It has a weight about it.
I walked around my Te Atatu neighbourhood the other day and came across the St Margaret's rest home which has suffered a cluster of 16 Covid-19 cases. It was shut tight, more or less boarded. A piece of paper was taped to the front door. I was sorely tempted to go have a look but for once in my life thought it better to act with grace, and kept walking. The Prime Minister announced a third death from St Margaret's at today's press conference.
That is: today's final press conference. The end of alert level mark 4 lockdown has marked the end of The 1pm Show, starring Jacinda Ardern and Dr Ashley Bloomfield in the lead roles, ably supported by the press gallery. The whole world watched Ardern worrying out loud that Herald reporter Jason Walls wasn't getting enough sleep. That's how we do things here; it made a nice contrast to the increasingly bumptious and actually quite insane press briefings given by the shambling orange Potus.
"I love the smell of a bacon and egg McMuffin with hotcakes in the morning." Photo / Michael Craig
Tomorrow dawns with the promise of fries. I love the smell of a bacon and egg McMuffin with hotcakes in the morning. Strange that the first sign of civilisation emerging from the Covid-19 wreckage should be takeaways. Alert level 3 lockdown is scarcely less vigilant – "Jot down where you've been," instructed Bloomfield at today's press conference; dude, you're amazing, but yeah nah – and true freedom will only be achieved when we can resume that great New Zealand activity of entering the mall.
But life from 11.59pm this evening is a start. It's two weeks of something better than the big fat nothing of alert level 4 lockdown. A lot of these past five weeks was pretty good: the way we all slowed down, the way we all moved in a kind of dream. And we all played our part in doing an incredible thing. We eliminated the virus.
We deserve a medal, some commemorative souvenir to mark our contribution to saving lives and doing the right thing during this incredible time in our nation's history. Something to hold up to the sun and look at it glowing.
