Nicola Young: Whanganui is just the right size for me

Whanganui feels like city living to me. Does that make me sound like a country bumpkin? OK, admittedly, small-city living, but living in central Whanganui feels like urban living.

Remember, I've just left a small coastal Taranaki village and, while I loved my short walk to everything, the slightly longer walk I have in Whanganui has more on offer.

My boys and I are starting a Saturday routine of a wander along the river walkway before a swim in the river, even jumping off the jetty (the boys - not me!), hitting the River Traders' market for early lunch, then over to The Warehouse for a lollipop with their pocket money, before a detour back home via the museum. There are so many good-quality cafes and delis, live music venues, affordable art and galleries everywhere, plus my favourite bookshop, Paige's. And it's compact. It only takes a few minutes to get most places.

About this time last year, I was in Hong Kong with my old job - that is some serious city living. One of my former colleagues is in Rio de Janiero this week and posted a spectacular view from the office window, so she might scoff at my description of Whanganui as city living.

Apparently, we don't even qualify as a city if you take the definition from the Local Government Act of needing a minimum population of 50,000. At about 43,000, we're not quite there.

We do have a few of the downsides of city living, though. These past few weeks I have really noticed the "heat island" effect - in areas with lots of buildings and sealed roads, the temperatures are higher than in rural areas with vegetation cover.

I've also had a few encounters with aggression on the streets - at a distance (I've learnt vicariously to stand back, thanks to my mother's experience of trying to break up a street fight some years ago and getting a black eye for her efforts).

In one case, a man and a woman were arguing and swearing, then screaming in each other's faces, pushing and I thought about to escalate to hitting each other. So I rang the police on 111.

I'm not sure of the outcome after I reported it and felt uncertain whether I should use the 111 line, but the operator reassured me that I had done the right thing.

It made me feel sad about what goes on behind closed doors if that sort of violence is okay on the street in public view.

While I didn't observe similar aggression on the streets of upwardly mobile Oakura, I guess it's inevitable there was - and is - domestic abuse out of sight, based on our statistics.

The www.areyouok.org.nz website reports that in New Zealand in 2014, the police recorded a family violence investigation every five and a half minutes. And to compound that awful statistic, the Ministry of Justice estimates that only one in four family violence incidents are reported - I suspect significantly less than that figure.

A more positive experience of being back wandering the Whanganui streets has been running into people I know - it's lovely to reconnect - plus meeting new people, too.

My other highlight this week is experiencing yarn-bombing. The Gonville knitting guerrillas have covered the tree outside my office as a lead-up to La Fiesta - not quite the views of Rio, but still impressive to see out the window.

While I might need the old Wellington hit from time to time, I'm happy to pass up true big city living.

-Nicola Young has worked in government and private sectors in Australia and New Zealand and now works in Whanganui for a national charitable foundation. Educated at Wanganui Girls' College, she has a science degree and is the mother of two boys.