By One Network Wellington Live

It’s a quiet morning in Wellington, the wind whistling through the streets as usual. The city’s known for its wild weather, but today there’s something else stirring—a change that’s been creeping up on us for years. Once upon a time, Wellington’s streets were lined with car parks, rows of them stretching across the central city and waterfront. If you drove into town, you’d find a spot, maybe grumble about the meter, but you’d park and get on with your day. Now, though? Those car parks are disappearing, and in their place, something new is popping up—parklets. Tiny bursts of green, seats, and sometimes even sparklers are taking over. Thousands of parking spaces are gone, and Wellington’s changing right under our noses. So, how did we get here, and how do these parklets actually work? Let’s tell the story.

Back in the day, Wellington was a city built for cars. The streets were narrow, sure, but there were parking spots everywhere—outside cafes on Cuba Street, near the hospital in Newtown, along the waterfront by Queens Wharf. If you worked in the CBD or popped in for a coffee, you’d circle a bit, find a space, and chuck some coins in the meter. It wasn’t perfect—parking fees went up to $3 or $5 an hour, and spaces got harder to find as the city grew—but it was how things worked. The council even owned big car park buildings, like the one under the Michael Fowler Centre, and there were heaps of on-street spots too. People relied on them, especially shift workers, parents doing the school run, or anyone who didn’t fancy lugging bags up a hill in the rain.

But then, something shifted. Around the world, cities started rethinking streets. Cars weren’t the future anymore—people were. Places like San Francisco and London kicked off a trend: turning car parks into little public spaces called parklets. Wellington watched, and soon enough, we wanted in. The idea was simple—swap out a parking space for something everyone could enjoy, like a bench or a garden. It sounded nice, but not everyone was sold. Business owners worried about losing customers, drivers moaned about fewer spots, and the council had to figure out how to make it all work without chaos breaking loose.

The first parklets in Wellington popped up about a decade ago, though they weren’t official at first. Picture this: a group of locals, fed up with concrete and exhaust fumes, grabbed some AstroTurf, a few pot plants, and a picnic table. They plonked it all in a car park on Cuba Street and called it a day. It wasn’t legal, and the council wasn’t thrilled—safety was a worry, and cars still ruled the road. But it planted a seed. Cafes and bars noticed more people stopping by, lingering longer, spending more. The vibe was different, livelier. Soon, the council couldn’t ignore it.

By 2021, Wellington City Council started talking seriously about parklets. They’d seen San Francisco turn thousands of car parks into mini parks over ten years, and London had hundreds too. Why not here? The council proposed a few trial spots—outside cafes, near schools, even in the Michael Fowler Centre car park. The plan was to make streets more about people than vehicles. Wider footpaths, outdoor dining, places to sit and chat—it sounded like a dream for a city that prides itself on being walkable and quirky. But dreams don’t come easy.

Take Cuba Street, for example. In 2024, the council suggested ditching 20 of the 25 car parks between Vivian and Ghuznee Streets. They wanted to widen the pavement and let cafes spill out with tables. The cost? Over $750,000, plus $300,000 a year in lost parking cash. Some businesses, like Kaffee Eis, kicked off. The owner reckoned it’d scare off drivers who popped in for a quick coffee, threatening their survival. Others, like Slow Boat Records, loved it—they saw the buzz of CubaDupa festival, with streets packed and no cars in sight, and thought, “This could be every day.” The council pressed pause, but the idea didn’t die.

Fast forward to today, March 20, 2025. Wellington’s lost thousands of car parks—not all at once, but bit by bit. Newtown’s a hotspot: over 2,000 spaces got a two-hour limit last year, pushing hospital workers to park further away. Cycleways chewed up 150 spots along Adelaide Road, and businesses there felt the pinch. The waterfront’s changed too—where cars once lined up, you’ll now find benches and planters. It’s not just parklets either. Bus lanes, bike racks, and pedestrian crossings have all nabbed space. The council’s got a new parking policy, and it’s clear: streets are for moving people, not storing cars.

So where did all those car parks go? Some turned into parklets—hundreds of them now dot the city. Others became cycle lanes or wider footpaths. A chunk just vanished as the council stopped replacing old spaces. It’s a big shift. Ten years ago, you’d never have thought Wellington would trade its car parks for greenery and sparklers—yes, sparklers! Some parklets, especially during festivals, get decked out with lights or even handheld fireworks to draw a crowd. It’s Wellington’s way of saying, “We’re different.”

But it’s not been smooth sailing. Hospital staff in Newtown reckon it’s dangerous—nurses like Hilary Gardner walk ten minutes in the dark to their cars after late shifts, clutching keys for safety. Drivers in the CBD grumble about circling for ages. And businesses still argue over whether foot traffic makes up for lost parking. The council’s answer? “You don’t build a city around cars, you build it around people,” says Mayor Tory Whanau. She’s all in for pedestrian streets, pointing to CubaDupa’s success. But for every supporter, there’s someone shaking their head.

So, what’s a parklet, and how does it actually work? Imagine a car park—about 5.5 metres long, enough for one vehicle. Now picture that space with no car. Instead, there’s a wooden platform level with the pavement, maybe a bench or two, some planters with flowers, and a bit of shade. That’s a parklet. It’s a mini public space, open to anyone—grab a coffee, sit with mates, or just watch the world go by. Some have bike racks, others get fancy with art or games. During festivals, you might even see sparklers or fairy lights strung up.

Here’s how they come to life in Wellington. First, someone—could be a cafe owner, a resident, or a community group—gets an idea. They chat to neighbours, sketch a design, and pitch it to the council. The council checks it’s safe—think barriers to keep cars out and enough room for emergency vehicles. If it’s a go, they slap a parking suspension notice on the spot, banning vehicles. The applicant builds it, often with a small grant (up to $400 in some places), and promises to look after it. That means watering plants, fixing benches, and keeping it tidy. After a year, the council decides if it stays or goes.

Safety’s a big deal. Back in 2022, a group called Picnics in Parks started taking over car parks for lunch—tables, blankets, the lot. The council freaked out, worried they’d tumble into traffic. Now, parklets need proper edges—planter boxes or bollards—to keep people off the road. Businesses love them because they boost trade—studies say sales jump about 30% with a parklet out front. Drivers? Not so much. Each one takes a parking space, and in a city where spots are gold, that stings.

Today, Wellington’s a different place. Walk down Cuba Street, and you’ll see parklets outside cafes, kids playing on them, people chatting over lunch. In Newtown, they’re outside schools, giving parents a spot to wait without cars clogging the gates. The waterfront’s got them too—less parking, more places to sit and watch the waves. Thousands of car parks are gone, and while some miss them, others say it’s worth it. The city feels greener, more alive.

What’s next? The council’s working on a proper parklet policy—templates to make it easier, clearer rules, maybe even competitions for the best designs. They reckon by next summer, it’ll be sorted. Some dream of streets with no cars at all, just parklets linked up in rows, bursting with flowers and sparklers at night. Others want a balance—fewer cars, but not none. Either way, Wellington’s not going back. The days of endless car parks are over, and this city’s finding its spark.

So here we are, Wellington in 2025. From car parks to sparklers, we’ve traded metal and meters for wood and greenery. Thousands of parks are gone, and in their place, parklets are changing how we live. They’re small, sure, but they pack a punch—more people walking, more cafes buzzing, more kids playing. It’s not perfect. Drivers still fume, and the council’s still tweaking the plan. But as the wind whips through, you can’t help but notice: this city’s got a new beat. Parklets work because they’re for us—simple, human, and a bit wild, just like Wellington itself.