On my way from Christchurch to Dunedin, along a narrow highway that skirted the coast and several flats, I saw a Trump sign (in Timaru). Just can't get away. I’ve heard from a few Kiwis and Aussies that he has followings in each country. As we approached Dunedin, the hills grew and we wound our way through narrow passes, up and down.

On one downhill we passed into urban neighborhoods suddenly, and it was a very short time before I was exiting my bus in the city center. I found my way a few blocks from the bus stop at a grocery store to a rehabilitated Salvation Army building, to go into a highly quirky and mostly clean (!) little apartment that would be my home for the next four nights. The great news is that I could walk just about anywhere from there, and I did.

First, please note that Dunedin is a bit chilly in late September, so I broke out the down and the woolly beanie. Bear in mind that it is below the 45th parallel south, similar to the southern tips of Chile and Argentina and not much else. Like most of New Zealand, there was a little sun and more overcast weather; not much rain though, for which I was grateful. “Aotearoa”, the Maori name for New Zealand (and also an official name, it now goes by Aotearoa/New Zealand, slash and all) means roughly “land of the long white cloud”, and the many clouds here often feel low to the ground.

On the streets, I noticed a lot of short trousers (can't say "pants" here, means “underwear”) on men and boys. In Dunedin and really all over New Zealand, people looked noticably underdressed for the weather: surprising numbers in shorts, tee shirts, and even barefoot at temperatures in the high 40's or 50's. In terms of fashion, there was a clear Scottish/British influence in Dunedin, with thick sweaters and plaid pants, skirts, you name it. Even the accents sounded to me as if there was just a touch of a Scottish brogue. "Dunedin" is another name for Edinburgh, named by settlers who insisted on a statue of Scottish poet Robbie Burns in the main town square.

Dunedin follows the NZ city pattern which only Christchurch does not: a flatter area developed near the waters' edge that quickly transitions to steep hillsides. A shallow street grid two- to three-streets deep was applied to the flat with a unusual octagonal common, but streets and grids had to adjust as needed to make its way up the hills, and again as the harbor was filled to create more flat. Turns out Dunedin's sizable harbor, bounded by the Otago Peninsula, is also very shallow, and another town closer to the mouth of the bay (Port Chalmers) is the focus of deep-water shipping today.

The city shares its identity with the Otago Peninsula, in part because the waterfront looks across to its green hillsides, and also because the original Maori settlements in the area were on the Otago. Mainly, it is considered a natural treasure. There is no flat on the Otago; it is all steep hills. Closer to the bridge to Dunedin, there are suburban housing neighborhoods, but very quickly those are left behind for sheep farms. It is the headlands at the tip that are the most precious, with tall cliffs and protected beaches providing homes for whales, seals, penguins, albatross, and other colonies of sea birds.

Something about Dunedin really appealed to me. It thrived on nostalgia, from its many quirky old buildings and the Scottish references to the many antique stores. The city reminds me of Providence, as another "city that time forgot". They've not had the intense development pressure over the years that leads to demolition of older buildings. Instead, art deco and Victorian buildings dominate the streets, some quite elaborate or bizarre. The iSite (the tourist information center in every city bears this name) makes architectural tour hires available, and taking one (as I did) injects immense information on local history, politics, culture and, of course architecture. I recommend it strongly.

A few of the major civic buildings feature a neo-Gothic style based in color I'd not seen before - dark, volcanic rusticated stone with limestone accent, reminiscent of a negative. Absolutely striking: the massive train station, the courthouse, the boys' high school, and the initial core of the University of Otago; all feature this and were built when Dunedin was a wealthy city based in proceeds from a gold rush.

Activity highlights include the Otago Settlers Museum, with incredible storytelling of the trials and tribulations faced by Europeans and Maori as Otago was settled. A tour of the Otago Peninsula included seeing blue penguins come to shore after fishing all day. Touring Olveston House, a grand Victorian family home with everything intact, was an excellent insight into a wealthy family's life in that time. All Saints Anglican Church is a gorgeous small church from the 1850's that looks Arts and Craft but was built too early for that - an architectural charmer and puzzle.

I'd signed up to attend a conference for young writers. Realizing that does not apply to me, I wanted to hear what young writers in NZ were thinking about these days. I met a poet, a 17-year-old magazine publisher, a bar owner, and a community organizer/social worker. It will surprise you that climate change was foremost on their minds, but discussion also covered identity, social justice, and post-capitalist economics. These young people were articulate to an exponential degree, and very well organized and hard-working; they talked about burnout as if it were an old friend they'd learned to manage. I think I'll feel good about a world they are in charge of.

In Dunedin I passed beyond the halfway point of my time in NZ, and from there I headed for the famous mountains of South Island. Next: Queenstown and Te Anau.

A small selection of more fun buildings below: