Financial snags have put the spotlight on the mighty Metropolis building in the heart of Auckland. But what is it like living there? WARREN GAMBLE finds out.
The arch of the former Auckland Magistrate's Court where petty criminals once slouched is now guarded by upright men in sharp livery.
There are no
signs but it is clear you are entering an altogether different world.
Welcome to Metropolis, the slice of New York architecture towering over the inner-city, where style reigns.
The arch in the restored courthouse facade is a suitably grand opening to the inlaid marble lobby with the star motif, which leads to the plush restaurants and the high-rise luxury beyond.
Metropolis is the 170m-high jewel in Andrew Krukziener's property development crown. His problems with repaying the building's bond investors have caused a stir in business circles, but that seems far away under the backlit onyx ceiling in the lobby.
Metropolis is an unusual combination, for Auckland, of a five-star hotel and individual residences.
Owners of 315 suites have leased them to the hotel pool, but spread throughout the building are 55 permanent residents who either own or rent their apartments.
So what's it like to have the city at your feet, to have 24-hour room service at home, and to pop down in powerful lifts complete with classical music and New Zealand scenery videos to the heated pool surrounded by green marble from Rajasthan?
Most of the residents the Weekend Herald spoke to were, naturally enough, happy with their upwards move.
But one, who did not want to be named, was less than impressed, particularly with the supposed silver lining of having a five-star hotel at your beck and call.
Among her complaints were that the hotel staff were unhelpful about sending up residents' guests, some of whom had to wait more than half-an-hour in the lobby.
Room-service meals were sometimes left uncollected in the hallway for up to 48 hours, and gym towels, when they were available, had to be signed for by residents.
"The service is terrible," she says. "It's not in favour of the residents, it's just a nightmare."
David Clark, who moved in shortly after Metropolis opened in 1999, has a completely different view.
The Liverpool-born shiatsu masseur and organic food expert is a friend of Krukziener's, and says the hotel staff could not be more helpful.
"They are first-class, it's just slick, everything gets sorted out," he says. Maintenance of appliances and services such as cleaning are only a phone call away.
"You pay a little more for that, but it makes my life easy."
Clark, who turned 40 this week, runs his massage business from apartments next to his own. He has just been appointed a trainer for the new five-star Spa Chakra, from Sydney, which will open at Metropolis in November.
He says the convenience of having his business next to home in the middle of the city is perfect for someone who works long hours, enjoys cooking and eating out. "I just can't stand the thought of driving to work."
He describes the permanent residents as making up a little village. One resident told him last weekend he had been to three different parties and never left the building.
Among his favourite former residents was model Robin Reynolds, who gained international exposure last year for her Metropolis fling with British singer Robbie Williams. She is now in the United States pursuing an entertainment career.
"She was great fun, she just enjoyed life. One time she was in the pool and I dared her to walk into the lobby in her g-string, and she did it.
"It's like a flat, except you have your own apartment."
Clark says contrary to popular perception, the residents are not all high-rollers. "I drive a Volkswagen five-door hatchback and I don't care."
Weekend Herald inquiries found few well-known faces among the permanent residents, apart from boxer David Tua, who is leasing an apartment during a break from the United States.
On level 22, optometrist Roger Apperley and his wife Sue sit down with a glass of cabernet with Auckland's nightscape spread out before them through five ceiling-to-floor windows.
The couple bought the apartment, its furniture package including dining and lounge suites and appliances, and a carpark for about $600,000 when the building opened in December 1999.
Their children had left home and, facing a second renovation to their Epsom villa, they decided to try city life.
Apperley is a partner with Barry & Beale and the firm's new eyewear boutique is a minute away in High St.
"I think we just grew out of the suburbs, and the baggage that comes with an old place," Sue Apperley says.
The couple list security (24-hour cover), the views of the harbour, the interior style and the proximity to Albert Park to stretch their legs as the benefits of the building.
And, yes, they have used the room service menu when guests drop in. Among the around-the-clock choices are braised lamb shanks ($23.50), salmon gravalax carpaccio ($17.50) and sticky date pudding ($12). If you are in truly expansive mood you can order up the Veuve Cliquot La Grande Dame 1990 at $310.
But the Apperleys prefer to do their own cooking, and still do the supermarket shopping once a week, using an old trolley to bring the groceries up in the lift.
The arrival of 24-hour stores in the city means running out of milk is not a problem (recent hotel guests report that a glass of room-service milk costs $4).
The Apperleys pay $450 a month to the building's body corporate, which looks after window cleaning and general building maintenance.
They say the ease of living, the convenience and the comfort make it worthwhile.
The apartment is well soundproofed but they also welcome the sounds of the city, such as the chimes from the Ferry Building clock.
"At the end of the day we thought it was worth the risk," Sue Apperley says. "We put our money in thinking this is a concept that is totally different to anything that has been here."
Higher up, Colin Taylor taps at his laptop on his vertiginous 34th-floor penthouse suite balcony. Way below are the boutiques and cafes of High St, the roofs of commercial buildings and, further out, the harbour, Stanley Pt and the Hauraki Gulf.
Taylor, a communications consultant, points out one of his workplaces, the Auckland District Law Society offices, only about 100m straight down.
He also works from a home office, typing to the hum of the city.
He and his wife Charmaine, who works at the downtown office of Air New Zealand, lease the spacious apartment for $700 a week.
They moved from among the kauri at a Titirangi property after becoming fed up with the 40-minute commute. It allowed them to sell a car and fit more into their days.
"Here you can go down to the gym, exercise while watching CNN, come back and read a newspaper on the balcony.
"And there is always something happening on the harbour."
Financial snags have put the spotlight on the mighty Metropolis building in the heart of Auckland. But what is it like living there? WARREN GAMBLE finds out.
The arch of the former Auckland Magistrate's Court where petty criminals once slouched is now guarded by upright men in sharp livery.
There are no
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