TOP OF PAGE: Waves looking out from, Tunnel Beach. ABOVE, FROM TOP: The view from George Street toward Knox Church—Capers is located approximately across the road from the church. A friend of the author looks out from Tunnel Beach. St Clair Beach, the location of the Hydro café. Surf lifesaving at St Clair Beach.

Gwyneth Paltrow’s presence ensured that other Corstor­phine guests had to be re­located, but it is hard to be uncharitable to the actress in such a splendid, well preserved and authentic place

   Dunedin should be among the epicure’s favourite cities. One evening, I went with some friends to Thai Over (388 George Street, 64 3 477-7815) where the owner’s repeated photographs stared down at you Warhol-style from one wall. The food was excellent and proved to be excellent value.
   Scenic lunching can be had at Hydro, by the St Clair beach in Dunedin South. While out of town, this was a popular location that attracted plenty of tourists, so much so that I had to park a block away—something that I didn’t expect to need to do so far outside the city centre. Hydro served a delightful spaghetti and one could always walk it off along the beach.
   Something more sumptuous is available at the world-class Corstorphine House (Milburn Street, 64 3 487-1000, www.corstorphine.co.nz), where Ms Gregg had stayed, but which might be better known now as where Gwyneth Paltrow was a guest. Miss Paltrow’s presence ensured that other Corstorphine guests had to be relocated, but after visiting the historical building far from the centre of Dunedin, it is hard to be uncharitable to the actress in such a splendid, well preserved and authentic place.
   Built in 1863, Corstorphine House markets itself as a boutique hotel and while we were unable to see the Gwyneth Paltrow suite, we dined where she did to an exceptional meal. Corstorphine House even grows its vegetables in its own organic garden. Fresh fish, a splendid New Zealand wine and a wonderful lemon tart were complemented by the live and polished solo guitar music of Alexey Medvedev, whose CD, Corstorphine Nights, is available strictly by request from the restaurant staff. (It is not advertised.) Mr Medvedev did take one request of ‘The Shadow of Your Smile’ and entertained with ‘Speak Softly Love’ and ‘A Man and a Woman’, among others.
   The Hungry Frenchman, another Octagon locale (38 The Octagon, 64 3 477-5748), provided a filling dinner one evening, again with excellent service next to the Visitors’ Centre within the Municipal Centre complex. The food was brasserie-style, rather than a formal French restaurant, but the surroundings were one of the most tasteful in Dunedin.
   The best pancakes in the world are reputed to be at Capers (412 George Street, 64 3 477-7769), something I had to sample while there. I had to say that the congratulatory comments in a visitors’ book were spot on after I tried its pancakes, served with fruit. They were unequalled—such are the simple pleasures of breakfast.
   However, I did not experience the best till the final day I was there, lunching with Mild Red’s Donna Tulloch and her daughter Brya, who is as talented in graphic design as her mother is in fashion. Donna’s choice of Bacchus (12 The Octagon, 64 3 474-0824), located on what I would call the second floor but British and New Zealanders call the first floor just round from Di Lusso, had not only a great wine list but one of the best menus in the city. Prepared beautifully, it was my gastronomic pick of the Dunedin spots—though high on my list for a future visit are Plato (2 Birch Street, 64 3 477-4235), specializing in local produce that includes salmon, and cappuccino brûlé and a toffee brittle sprinked with ground coffee beans, and the hot, new Fleur’s Place—out of town in Oamaru (169 Haven Street, Moeraki, 64 3 439-5980)—which buys its fish from local fishermen, ensuring it is the freshest any restaurant-goer can expect in New Zealand.

 CAR IS A NECESSITY in Dunedin, not because of city travel—buses and taxis prove to be exceptional value—but there is too much to see in the greater vicinity, including Tunnel Beach, Highcliff, Taiaroa Head, the Moeraki Boulders and Mt Cargill. And in the city itself, it was nice to drive to the Botanical Garden (the first in the country), or Opoho Signal Hill for its spectacular city-wide view.
   With a limited number of days there and a feature to shoot, the car became more important. Enter Hertz.
   After one carless day using taxi chits kindly provided by Tourism Dunedin and the Dunedin City Council, I telephoned Hertz and was told that sadly, the only type of car available was the full-size Ford Falcon. As Hertz is a Ford subsidiary, I had planned on a Ford Mondeo. Was there anything smaller? No, but I could try the following morning before I came in to see.
   It was the same story on the phone the next day but when I arrived, Hertz had gone out of its way and found a Mazda 626 for me. Not convinced of the appropriateness of a Japanese car—my French, Belgian and Dutch friends sympathize while everyone else looks on puzzled—I explained politely that I could not take the 626: I was enjoying myself and the last thing I wanted was the Hiroshima Accountants’ Express to bore me to death with a sterile driving experience. Building a car with character is still not something the Japan, Inc. has managed, with probably the singular exception of Nissan.
   I was given a 2001 Ford Falcon Futura, complete with indicators on the wrong side of the steering wheel and a distracting flourescent yellow sticker on the instrument panel warning me that here in New Zealand, folks drive on the left. By this point I was wondering why I didn’t take up Ryan Craig’s offer of using his classic Holden Premier—one of the nicest examples of the 1960s model that I had seen.
   This event coincided with an American car meeting nearby, so during my time there I was spoilt with passing Mustangs, Corvettes and even a 1965 Lincoln Continental.
   The Falcon proved relaxing and it became clear why, although it was the former and less commercially successful EA169 model (called ‘AU’ by the public, as in ‘Ay, you, why don’t you buy a Holden Commodore’), it is a favourite of taxi drivers in Auckland and Wellington. They speak highly of its reliability, but most Dunedin cabbies opted for Toyota Camrys, a car that this year ranked amongst the worst to be seen in at Lucire. This is not a town where folks try to show off: the egalitarian nature of real New Zealand lived on here, unlike some cities where snob value has become an unfortunate requirement of an artificial feeling of self-worth. If you have a luxury car, it’s because you like cars—not because you feel empty without one. Dunedinites are not shallow people.

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