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Otis Whinney THE STATE OF THE (PACIFIC) NATION  For many Kiwis, there is nothing more exciting than the annual 'State of the Nation' addresses delivered by our political parties to lay out their agenda. By many Kiwis, I actually mean none at all. But it does not change the fact that they did recently happen—and as we are in an election year, it could be somewhat important to see what these politicians have to say. It may, however, be more pertinent to examine the actual state of our nation from the perspective of those who don’t spend their days yelling at each other in the Beehive. For the Pasifika community in Aotearoa, I would argue doing this is significantly more important. What Prime Minister Christpher Luxon says is good for all Kiwis may, in truth, only be good for some. If you cast your mind back to the terrifying time that was the 2023 election season, you may recall a heavy emphasis on law and order. Images of young teens putting cars through the front of dairies, or the visual prominence of gang members in many people’s day-to-day lives made it an easy issue for National to campaign on—and it appears to have worked.  Three years on, and Luxon’s laser-guided focus-missiles have struck criminals fast and hard. Measures have included expanded powers to detain people publicly displaying gang insignia, prison expansion, and a clear ideological shift around prisoner-numbers—namely, that more prisoners is seen as a positive outcome.  Luxon recently fronted cameras to highlight what he says is success in reducing victims of violent crime. And the numbers don’t lie; according to the latest New Zealand Crimes and Victims Survey, violent crime victimisation has indeed fallen for the general population over this parliamentary term. But numbers like these are never that simple. You don’t have to look further than the exact same survey to see that there has been a 42% increase in Pasifika victims of violent crime between October 2023 and October 2025, a number that paints these stats in a very different light. That represents around an increase of 5,000 victims is a pretty damning number— and one our glorious leader seems keen to leave by the wayside. Obviously, law and order only matters for certain groups of Kiwis cough cough cough . Luxon seems less keen to promote the stats on children living in material hardship, as most ethnic groups have seen an increase in the past few years. Even then, Pacific people have still been hit quite hard, with an increase of 6500 children in this group occurring between 2019 and 2024 according to the Salvation Army’s 2026 State of the Nation’ report. Unemployment—the scourge of countless Wellingtonian students—has also been rising at disproportionately high rates for our Pacific community.  Taken together, these figures paint a rather grim picture of the state of the Pacific nation in Aotearoa.  You may be wondering what the point is in highlighting all of these depressing statistics. The answer is simple: the coalition has no interest in addressing them, and frankly neither do most politicians in this country.  To place all the blame on Luxon would be unfair. Many of these trends began under the previous Labour government. But even then, the solutions proposed by the Coalition have not produced better outcomes for many at-risk communities.  Pacific people are not alone in this. Many of the same negative indicators are mirrored among Māori communities. The lack of attention paid to the real impacts of policy on these groups allows governments of any stripe to continue largely unchecked. Whatever strategies this government is implementing to make people safer—whether it be gang-patch laws, new move-on orders, or expanded policing powers—it’s clear that these are not designed to benefit everyone. If they were, the numbers would look different.   When Winston Peters—the man responsible for representing New Zealand on the global stage—goes on camera and declares his value for the “Pacific family” New Zealand sees itself as a part of, it's hard to take him seriously when the actual Pacific families in this country are doing it pretty bloody tough.  Combine that with incidents such as Peters’ blatant xenophobia towards Cook Islander MP Teanau Tuiono (who was born in Aotearoa) after Tuiono referred to this country as Aotearoa—something that is neither illegal nor against parliamentary rules. Incidents like this make talk of a “Pacific family” sound more like political pandering than genuine commitment. New Zealand First has long had this anti-immigrant streak in their platform, although it has often been directed at warning Aucklanders that the city could one day become a new Chinese province in a few years time. These days I guess anyone can be subject to the rhetoric, even people born here.  It is also important not to forget how similar rhetoric has been used in the past in this country to justify terror campaigns by the Police and the proliferation of racist stereotypes by mainstream media. The most well-known examples came during the 1970s and 1980s under the Muldoon era, particularly during the Dawn Raids.  The risk of repeating aspects of that period threatens not only Pacific communities but other growing migrant groups as well, including those from South Asia. Many of these communities continue to face levels of xenophobia that sit uneasily with the idea of New Zealand as a progressive nation. I say all of this to point out simply that this government can say whatever it wants about how much it values the people who live here—their safety, prosperity, and so on—but it doesn’t mean shit if it doesn't apply to everyone. If I could leave you with anything to take home and ponder, it's that these guys can say whatever they want in their ‘State of the Nation’ speech, but if you look around, the actual state of the nation doesn’t lie.

One of Mayor Andrew Little’s key election promises was to cap weekly public transport fares. Problem is, that’s not something he has the power to do.  Little’s policy was to make all Metlink trips free after your eighth trip. So, if you take public transport to and from work every day, your Friday morning trip (trip nine) and any others are free. However, Little only has jurisdiction over Wellington City Council. Public transport falls under the Greater Wellington Regional Council’s purview, who recently ran into a $5 million shortfall in Metlink’s budget thanks to lower-than-expected ridership.  Despite this, Metlink is fully onboard with the idea. Manager Tim Shackleton describes fare capping as something “we have to do.”  Metlink currently sells 30-day train or bus passes, which can cost hundreds of dollars. Shackleton's plan is for fare capping to replace those passes.  “We know a lot of people can't necessarily afford to pay for the whole month upfront, so from an equity standpoint I think fare capping is important to do,” said Shackleton.  Shackleton also hopes fare capping could drive behavioural change. Metlink almost always has free space on its weekend services, so if more people take public transport on the weekend, more people are using public transport for the same cost to run the service.  But while Shackleton and Little agree on the necessity of fare-capping, they do so for different reasons. Shackleton mentions train passes in his answer extensively. Little wants to defocus the trains.  “There’s issues about how Regional Council allocates the money they get from central government,” said Little. “I’ve seen a lot of analyses which suggest it’s heavily weighted towards train transport rather than the bus network.”  “I think there’s scope to negotiate something there to improve bus fares.”  A regional council spokesperson told Salient that 50% of Metlink’s funding went to buses compared to 45% to trains, though there are only four train routes compared to the ~100 bus routes.  There are obvious reasons why Little and Shackleton have different focuses. Little’s jurisdiction only includes Wellington City, which almost exclusively uses buses. Metlink has responsibility for the whole network, and rail patronage is 6% below what it was before the pandemic.  All of which raises the question — if both City and Regional Council want fare capping but for different reasons and with different funding strategies in mind, where will the agreement come from? Regardless, it’s clear there’s demand for fare capping. 193 of 246 respondents to an (admittedly unscientific) Salient Instagram poll said they were struggling to pay for public transport. Law and political science student Meg Lange said she was spending a fifth of her income on public transport fares, and further price hikes would mean deciding which lectures to go to. So unsurprisingly, she’s very keen on fare capping.  “After the eighth trip, then you're free to do stuff, especially on the weekends,” said Lange.  “I want to be able to come into town and do things like going to meetings and functions without having to think about how I've already spent so much getting to school each week.”  Little said conversations with regional council are yet to happen, but is committed to achieving fare capping within the triennium.

Right, no one panic, but we’re a month through the semester. This is a mighty stumbling block, where early morning lecture attendance falters and ‘recommended’ readings fade into obscurity. These are the days where you figure out exactly how long it takes to roll out of bed and into your lecture, squeezing out every second of sleep you can get. Or… I do, anyway.  Making your lunch at home is, inevitably, sacrificed to efficiency. Hands down the thriftiest of meals, I don’t want to pay too much attention to packed lunches or otherwise I’ll be out of a job. So, for the mornings where there’s not even time to stick some bread together, here are my thoughts on some of the sandwiches you can get for lunch on Kelburn campus.  Subway What: 6-inch Sub of the Day.  Price: $7.50 When: 7 days a week. The packhorse of campus sandwiches, a sub is undeniable value.  ⭐⭐⭐ I’m going to be honest, I’ve got a vendetta with Subway. I’ve boycotted the store by the Easterfield entrance for years due to those rumours of bread legally classified as cake, and the beguiling fresh bread scent that’s pumped out the door every day. The garish green facade clinging to the grey stone of the building, as well as the crinkly wrapping in the library and then finding said wrapping on the ground later, has all made the franchise seem obnoxious and consumerist.  But, a $7.50 sub is a $7.50 sub, and not to be disregarded. So, into the green den I went for Saturday’s ‘chicken strips’ Sub of the Day.  For a flat fee, you do get a tasty sandwich, and you can easily maximise its value by loading up on the vegetable options. This does mean you end up with a saucy salad in a roll. Chicken strips? Nah, stripped of chicken. In and around the cucumber and spinach, a cube of soft meat would reveal itself, mainly for texture’s sake. There was an artificiality to the sandwich that I couldn’t shake, in both the meat and the sweetness of the sauce and the bread. A 6-inch sub was enough to tide me through an afternoon but definitely didn’t fill me as much as I’d expect it to. If it wasn’t for the price, I’d call this a once-in-long-while lunch. But if you can stick to your guns and stay away from any combos or extra cookies, I can’t begrudge this as a solid study-break lunch.  Ramsey House What: 2 toasties & a hot drink.  Price: $5.00 When: 12:00 - 2:00pm; Thursdays & Fridays.  A homemade lunch in the living room, just down from your lecture hall.  ⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Ramsey House chaplaincy is a winner on campus for offering not only the best value, but also the coziest space to enjoy it. Any day of the week, pop in for $2.00 bottomless filter coffee or tea and let your heart rate settle in their comfy living room and library space. They don’t skimp on those drinks, by the way, serving Common Good coffee and T2 tea, both of which are top-shelf stuff. I’ve spent many an afternoon here—alone or with friends, working on an essay or reading or doing nothing much at all—in the gentle quiet.  But in the tail-end of the week, the smell of bubbling cheese summons droves to 8 Kelburn Parade. $5.00 gets you two toasties and a drink of choice here. They’re all vegetarian options—mostly relishes with cheese and some spinach—but it’s cheap and filling. On a big day, I’ll order three toasties (one each of the beetroot chutney, onion relish, and marmite)—a stack that will definitely see me through the day. Similarly to Subway, actually, most of these sandwiches err sweet with their condiment fillings, unless you don’t mind marmite. But they’re crispy, hot, and cheesy, which—on a blustery Wellington afternoon—can be a small miracle.  The chaplaincy also offers free potluck dinners every second Friday, a worship session with lunch on Wednesdays,   and confidential support for students and staff, regardless of faith. The staff and volunteers are lovely and always happy to help, whether it’s a bite to eat, a free refill, or a listening ear that you’re after.  To be continued.

Connections Answers: First Connection Make something Official: Seal, Stamp, Sign, Ratify Second Connection Fish: Bass, Trout, Salmon, Carp   Third Connection Planets (In our Solar System): Mercury, Venus, Mars, Saturn Fourth Connection Things used to strike something: Mallet, Gavel, Hammer, Bat

Within the span of a week, I’ll be trying to accomplish a long-term task just to see if it’s possible, and to see what I can get out of it. Life lessons? Skills? Resilience training? The stimulation alone should be enough motivation. This week, I challenged myself to beat Facebook Marketplace. I’ve never really liked using it—aside from occasionally browsing flat listings—but after discovering the “ One Red Paperclip ” story, I felt inspired. In 2005, Canadian blogger Kyle MacDonald famously traded a single red paperclip all the way up to  a house in just one year. And from this I thought, “I could do that… but in a week.”   Saturday: 21st February First day. I went through multiple items, and landed on two interesting things to start me off: A Toaster A Golden Scooter Disappointingly, I quickly found out that people didn’t seem to understand what I was doing. There were a lot of vague questions, unintelligible responses, and a lot of being left on seen.  Monday: 23rd February After a weekend of no interest. I had one last trick up my sleeve, and wanted to run it by: Vic Deals,  the Facebook group with over 250,000 members. It’s the digital equivalent to everyone in Pōneke yelling at the same time. Nico (friend, known Marketplace haggler) was apprehensive, as it’s notorious for being a melting pot of poor politics and lost cats. Yet, I said I’d adopt their confidence and dive headfirst into the jungle, as it seemed to be my last hope. Tuesday: 24th February A big jump in content occurred today, and I was ecstatic. Firstly, a nice lady named Haddley traded my toaster for a bottle of Prosecco! I was nervous to meet her outside the Vivian Street Subway, but she was nice and very glad to get a new toaster that would actually work. I listed the Prosecco & the scooter on Vic Deals, scared to be saying anything with a massive spotlight on me. However, a lot of people were invested in the challenge. I was starting to get some interesting trade offers: a bowling ball, a half eaten jar of honey, a puffer vest, and (my personal favorite) an art print of someone’s penis. These were the kind of weird, kooky items I was hoping for. I had to accept trades carefully, as if I accepted too quickly I might be stuck at the end of the week with someone’s penis that no one wants. Wednesday: 25th February This day was the highlight of the whole challenge. I finally got rid of the scooter … for a FULL DRUM KIT!  A seriously dope guy named Mike apparently had an older boss who has a scooter he rides around in his office, and he wanted one to match! Despite the kit being a bit old, I am forever in debt to Mike, who I met up in a random parking building to make the handoff.I saw him ride off with my stolen scooter as I drove away with the drums. Additionally, my next door neighbor Ava saw the Prosecco post on Marketplace and wanted to get in on the action. She was having a REALLY bad week due the power being out. In return for the Prosecco, she gave me a pink road cone that she spray-painted.  Thursday: 26th February After I listed the drum kit, Vic Deals seemed to be invested in keeping up to date. By this point, I was a Top Contributor! A dude named Liam gave me his BMX bike! Looking back, the bike is probably one tier down from a drum kit, but I’m so glad not to lug the snares around and am very happy to trade it for something with wheels. Friday: 27th February The last day of the challenge. I listed the bike on the group, but so far had no bites. Content with this, I thought I was going to end the week on a boring note with no more trades … until Ivanna. Apparently Ivanna has an affinity for pink things, and really  wanted the pink road cone. When I asked her what she had to offer, y’know what she pulled up with? TWO pink/gold cigarettes originally from London! Despite not being a smoker, I happily took the imported ciggies out of aesthetic desire. I waved Ivanna off, and went up to my flat happy to end the challenge with two fags and a bicycle. Did I win this challenge? I reckon! What have I learned? People on Marketplace are weird, but you can count on community contribution to pull through.  While I ride my new BMX bike, I’ll be hoping Haddley’s toast doesn’t burn this time, Ava raises a glass to her power turning back on, Ivanna has another trip to Europe, Mike takes his boss to the skate park, and Liam is able to play some real drums instead of his cheap electric set.

A conversation on the diversity of sexual experience.  Saskia Barker Sex—both the thought of it and the act—is a totally unique concept. As a friend of mine put it, it is “simultaneously entirely universal yet extremely personal.” In spite of this, often when sex is the subject of a group conversation, there’s one person who seems less inclined to contribute. The fact is, though, that the way each of us considers and goes about sex is individually variable, so it’s only fair that the way we discuss it should reflect that. In short, we all have something to contribute to this conversation.  We are very lucky at Te Herenga Waka that the ways in which we define the bounds of pleasure and measure sexual success are expanding. As the experiences of women and non-men make their way into the campus conversation about sex, the focus has tended towards those with high libidos and a less ‘chalant’ or sentimental view of sex. This is not inherently bad, but it has caused us to shy away from traditionally ‘feminine’ traits—tenderness, sensitivity, emotional weight—and prevents the conversation from truly moving past the phallocentric confines that have historically defined how society thinks about sex.  Because of this, it can be difficult for women with a lower libido, or a more sentimental view of sex, to express these things without feeling isolated or naïve—“like you’re missing out” as I’ve heard it described. For me, it feels like a strange kind of FOMO which prevails despite a lack of desire for the thing which you are ‘missing out’ on. This approach is far more common than people think, but it doesn’t often get brought into conversation.  One student told me that when the conversation is dominated by just one perspective, it can feel like “your identity and body are misplaced in comparison to other people. Like ‘ what’s wrong with me if I don’t see sex that way? ’”  Another reflected: “I’ve found that because my libido is sub fucking zero I can feel a bit disconnected from what feels like is an essential driver for many women; sex as a form of freedom and liberty … I think a lot of my mindset on this is because of societal pressures and structures. To be a woman is somehow boiled down to being wanted and desired.” She’s absolutely right. Etched into our brains since birth is a desire to be desired. As women, our self-worth is often supported—to varying degrees—by how much we are needed or wanted. Regardless of your actual experience of or feelings towards sex, it can still feel like a receipt: proof that you are desired. For many queer people, it can even act as validation of sexual orientation—a core part of the identity you might have spent so long trying to figure out. As one queer student I talked to put it, it can be confusing and invalidating “to have navigated and pinpointed who you want to be desired by but not really getting any real ‘proof’ of that.”  But the desire to be desired or validated doesn’t necessarily equate to an appetite for actual fucking—and isn’t always fulfilled by sex either. Giving up that much of your body to somebody else can be quite emptying.  One student told me that sex can be “empowering in the way that it deepens your connection with someone,” but that she’s “often left these experiences feeling a bit hollow.” Even if you are secure within yourself, it’s hard not to feel a bit incel-y if you can’t produce this ‘receipt’ because you aren’t as buzzed by sex as a lot of other women seem to be.  Also   etched into our brains is an expectation to ooze tenderness and sentimentality. I can understand our inclination, as women, to lean away from these traditionally feminine traits by adopting a less ‘chalant’ view of sex. Our separation from sensitivity is not just isolated to attitudes towards sex. A sensitive man is performative, and a sensitive woman is naïve.  This becomes obvious when we look at the much-scorned notion of the performative male. We’ve come to assume that a man who likes things traditionally rooted in femininity—feminist literature, sentimentality, Clairo—is doing it just for show, and we don’t like that. As one student observed,  “femininity in general is seen as this abject, or like gushy thing, and that idea … can leak into attitudes around sex even for women … [so] we don’t want to lean into femininity and gentleness in sex.” For me, this manifests into a compulsion to quiet my emotional investment to a palatable level. It conjures the uncomfortable feeling of being fourteen years old, taking the Rice Purity Test and liberally interpreting every item just to prove—via my low score—that I was tough and nonchalant enough to have ‘done stuff’.  Even if you do have a lower libido, or feel vulnerable about sex, it still can be empowering to talk about it as if you don’t—almost like you’re reversing the method of control men have historically exercised over women. But this just reinforces the conversational norm that there is a singular way sex should be discussed.  One student pointed out that the development of “labels that don’t fit into the linear ‘hetero to homosexual’ spectrum, like asexuality or even pansexuality,” serve as further evidence that traditional models of sexual attraction simply don’t mesh with a lot of people.  Sex positivity shouldn’t only be about letting people want sex, but about granting the freedom to want it differently, to whatever degree or in whatever form each of us desire as individuals.  Personally (though subject to change), I’m not particularly enthusiastic about sex if I don’t love or trust the other person. I see it more as an extension of a relationship, or non-sexual intimacy. Without emotional connection, it can be hard for me to feel sexual desire.  In the words of a friend of mine, it’s “... a safety thing, like ‘ oh great I trust you. Now we can touch each other’ .”  I’ve had stranger, less wholesome, poorly thought-out sexual experiences which were hot(ish) in their separation from emotional ties. I have no regrets—but I don’t feel like it’s something I’d actively seek out anymore.  The phallocentric view suggests that physical pleasure is the thing you gain from sex, and the reason you pursue it. This is certainly one of the upsides. Physical pleasure—particularly for women and people AFAB—should not be overlooked. But in terms of trust, confidence, and self esteem there is for some a huge amount to be gained or lost emotionally.  The way that each of us considers and goes about sex, and the reasons why we may want it, can be influenced by a variety of factors. Victims of sexual abuse, assault or harrasment,or people who take SSRIs and other medications might have a higher standard of trust, or a lower libido. Such influences impact those who experience them very differently so individual circumstances are hugely varied. It makes sense that the way we think about sex is too.  This is also an important idea in queer relationships, where for one party there might be minimal physical pleasure. The gratification can instead come from providing pleasure for somebody else, or having it provided to you by the other party. It can be hard (for some, not all) not to feel guilty or unequal if you haven’t already established trust, or figured out the dynamics of your relationship outside of sex.  It’s not just about your sexual orientation or past experience; why and how we want sex varies and evolves throughout our lives. What I want now is not what I wanted five years ago, and it may not be what I want five years in the future, but that doesn’t mean I was ever wrong. We aren’t on a quest to find the ultimate way that sex should be viewed. Maybe the most sex-positive thing would be to allow ourselves to feel however we may feel—whether that be excitement, sentimentality, confusion, boredom, disinterest or anything else—and to be comfortable thinking and talking about it on our own terms. There is room for everyone in the conversation about sex.

If you’re reading this, chances are you’re an undergraduate domestic student, and in a committed relationship. You likely first had sex at sixteen or seventeen, have had between two and four lifetime partners, and one in the past year. You’ve had sex while enrolled at Te Herenga Waka.  You’ve probably never been tested for an STI, feel only somewhat confident navigating sexual health services, watch pornography occasionally, and believe it’s influenced your expectations of sex in both good and bad ways. You meet partners through mutual friends. It happens late at night. You talk about it often. Statistically speaking, this is you. A total of 508 students completed Salient’s  first survey dedicated to the sex lives of Te Herenga Waka students—the first of its kind, at least in the magazine’s recent memory. The survey was intentionally broad, designed to capture a general snapshot rather than drill into specific communities or experiences.  Who Completed the Census?  The survey was completed predominantly by domestic students in their second and third year of study, with the largest age group clustered at eighteen to nineteen years old. Women made up the clear majority of respondents, and heterosexuality was the most common sexual orientation reported, closely followed by bisexuality. Most respondents described themselves as being in a committed relationship at the time of the survey. Across year levels, upper-year students were more represented than first-years, suggesting stronger engagement from students who have spent longer at the university.  In short, the survey skews toward young, domestic, undergraduate women in ongoing relationships—a snapshot that shapes the sexual attitudes and behaviours reflected throughout the results. Relationships and Dating  Most respondents report being in a committed relationship. Casual arrangements are present, but they do not outweigh students who describe themselves as partnered. The responses therefore skew towards stability rather than casual dating. Gender Trends Women make up the majority of respondents and are the group most likely to report being in committed relationships. Men are comparatively more represented in single or casual categories than women, though committed relationships remain the most common status across genders overall. Respondents who identify as nonbinary or gender-diverse represent a smaller share of the dataset. Within this group, relationship statuses are more evenly distributed across committed, casual, and single categories rather than clustering strongly in one. Unlike women—who trend clearly toward committed relationships—nonbinary respondents show a more varied spread.  Sexuality Trends Heterosexual students make up the largest share of respondents, and within this group, committed relationships are the most common relationship status. Among LGBTQ+ respondents (including bisexual, gay, lesbian, and other identities), relationship categories are more evenly distributed. LGBTQ+ students are proportionally more represented in casual or undefined relationship categories compared to heterosexual respondents. That said, committed relationships are present across all sexuality categories. This distribution suggests that heterosexual students in this survey trend more strongly toward conventional, defined partnerships, while LGBTQ+ respondents report more varied relational structures. At the same time, the presence of casual arrangements across genders and sexualities indicates diversity in dating structures. The broader trend points toward something less sensational than stereotypes might suggest: students are dating, many are partnered, and relative stability is the prevailing pattern. Sex and Sexual Experiences  Sex Trends Across the responses, the most common amount of lifetime partners is two to four. When those become averages, women report about 4.5 lifetime partners, men about 4.9. Non-binary respondents sit higher, at roughly 5.4, and gender-diverse respondents higher again, at just over 7.  The gap between men and women is smaller than stereotype would suggest; the more visible difference appears between binary and gender-diverse respondents. But it should also be noted that this survey had a much smaller pool of gender-diverse respondents.  Sexuality shows a clearer divide. Heterosexual respondents report an average of roughly 3.9 lifetime partners. LGBTQ+ respondents report closer to 5.4.  Age, more than identity, explains the sharpest climb. Eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds cluster tightly in the one-to-four lifetime range. Each older bracket steps up incrementally. By twenty-four and over, respondents report the highest lifetime averages in the survey. But “lifetime” in this survey is relative. The data skews young: the largest age group is eighteen to nineteen, followed closely by students in their early twenties. For many respondents, “lifetime” spans only a handful of post-high-school years. These are compressed timelines. The averages reflect that. When the lens narrows to the past twelve months, the numbers compress further. Women average roughly 1.6 partners in the last year. Men, about 1.7. Non-binary respondents approach 1.9. Gender-diverse respondents report the highest recent average, around 2.4. LGBTQ+ respondents sit slightly above heterosexual respondents (about 1.8 compared to 1.6), but most groups converge tightly around one to two partners. The survey’s question on types of sex engaged in adds texture to those numbers. Oral sex is the most commonly reported experience overall (405 respondents), followed closely by vaginal sex (378), with mutual masturbation (312) and digital sex (224) also widely selected. Anal sex appears in 121 responses—present, but not dominant. The pattern suggests breadth: students report engaging in multiple forms of sex rather than centring everything on a single act.  Among heterosexual men, oral sex remains highly reported—closely tracking vaginal sex—indicating that it is a routine part of heterosexual encounters. Among heterosexual women, oral sex is also widely selected, again nearly parallel with vaginal sex. Bisexual women report particularly high rates of oral sex relative to vaginal sex, with a more even distribution across oral, mutual masturbation, and digital sex than heterosexual women. Lesbian respondents report oral and mutual masturbation at far higher rates than vaginal sex, while gay male respondents report high rates of oral sex alongside anal sex, though oral still appears more frequently overall. Across non-binary and gender-diverse respondents, the distribution is more evenly spread across oral, digital, and mutual forms, with less concentration on any single act. The Zeros Before we get any further into averages and trends, it’s worth pausing on something written in the final comments section. One anonymous respondent said that “...sometimes Salient  has been so sex-positive the articles have come across as judgemental towards those that haven’t (which could be for any reason).” And: “In the article please include how it is normal to never have had sex.” It’s an uncomfortable request to read back—not because it’s unreasonable, but because it suggests that a survey about sex still carries assumptions about who is participating. Eighty-one respondents of this survey selected “I haven’t had sex” when asked about the age of their first sexual experience. In the last twelve months, one hundred and one respondents reported having no sexual partners at all.  One respondent wrote: “I’m a virgin at 20 years old, which can sometimes feel difficult due to social ‘norms.’ When I hear about people who lost their virginity at a very young age, I feel a mix of wishing I had already experienced it, but also feeling glad that I haven’t yet. I want my first time to be meaningful, even though I sometimes have urges to hook up. I haven’t acted on those urges, and it can be hard when most people around me are sexually active. I’m very sex-positive, and being able to talk openly about this with friends makes me feel safe and unashamed.” Sex is common in this dataset—most respondents report having had it while enrolled—but it is not universal. Roughly one in five respondents report no sexual partners in the past year. A visible minority reports none, ever. The statistical centre may sit around two to four lifetime partners and one in the last twelve months, but the dataset contains a substantial cohort at zero. The survey maps participation, yes—but it also maps absence. And the absence is not deviant, delayed, or deficient. It is part of the same range of normal. STI Testing If there is a red flag in the survey, it isn’t hidden in partner counts or porn habits. It’s here. Nearly half of sexually active respondents—57.3 percent—report that they have never been tested for an STI. Sex, in this dataset, is common. Seventy-six percent of respondents say they’ve had sex while enrolled. Most report at least one partner in the last twelve months. But testing does not scale alongside activity.  Among those who are sexually active, 22.2 percent report testing within the last six months. Another 15.5 percent within the last year. Fourteen percent say it’s been more than a year. And then there is the largest single category: never. The gender breakdown sharpens the pattern. Among sexually active men, 58.4 percent report never having been tested—the highest “never” rate in the dataset. Women sit lower, but not comfortably so: 47 percent of sexually active women report never testing. Gender-diverse respondents report the strongest engagement with testing, with only 29.2 percent saying they have never been screened and higher proportions reporting recent tests. The sexuality divide follows a similar structure. Among heterosexual respondents, 55 percent report never being tested. Among LGBTQ+ respondents, that number drops to 44.6 percent. The difference is consistent. LGBTQ+ respondents in this dataset are more likely to report having accessed testing—and more likely to report having done so recently. It’s one of the clearest disparities in the entire survey. What the above data does not show is universal precaution tied neatly to higher partner counts. Gender-diverse respondents report the highest average lifetime partners in the dataset (approximately 7.08), yet only 29.2 percent of sexually active gender-diverse respondents report never having been tested for an STI—the lowest “never tested” rate of any gender group. Non-binary respondents report an average of approximately 5.4 lifetime partners, with around 41 percent of sexually active non-binary respondents reporting never testing. Meanwhile, sexually active men report a lower average lifetime partner count (approximately 4.9) than both non-binary and gender-diverse respondents—yet 58.4 percent of sexually active men report never having been tested, the highest non-testing rate in the dataset. Women report an average of approximately 4.5 lifetime partners, with 47.0 percent never tested. Heterosexual respondents overall report lower lifetime averages (approximately 3.89) but a 55.0 percent never-tested rate, compared to LGBTQ+ respondents, who report higher lifetime averages (approximately 5.36) and a lower 44.6 percent never-tested rate. In other words, higher reported partner counts do not correspond to lower testing rates. In this survey, some of the groups reporting more lifetime partners are also the ones reporting stronger engagement with STI screening, while the highest “never tested” figure belongs to sexually active men—not the group with the highest partner averages. From a clinical perspective, Mauri Ora, when asked for comment by Salient , says the implications are straightforward. Undiagnosed STIs can continue to spread, particularly because many infections are asymptomatic. Left untreated, some can lead to long-term complications such as pelvic inflammatory disease and potential infertility. Most STIs are treatable, they emphasise—but only if they are detected. The confidence gap may help explain the testing gap. The majority of respondents describe themselves as only “somewhat confident” accessing sexual health services. Mauri Ora notes that barriers can include difficulty finding information online, confusion about which service or clinician to see, language and cultural barriers, financial concerns, and stigma or privacy worries. A lack of symptoms can also create false reassurance. Common misconceptions include assuming that feeling fine means no need for testing, believing infections like syphilis or HIV “don’t apply” to them, or thinking a test immediately after exposure is definitive despite window periods that require follow-up. Best-practice testing, they say, depends on circumstances—but is generally encouraged for those with symptoms, contacts of someone diagnosed with an STI, during pregnancy, before IUD insertion for those at higher risk, after a change in sexual partner, routinely for sexually active people under 30, every three months for men who have sex with men, after non-consensual sexual encounters, or whenever a patient requests a test. The nursing team at Mauri Ora can independently test and treat many STIs, with appointments typically available within a week and same-day options for urgent care such as emergency contraception or PEP. If a student wants an STI check, the advice is simple: book a nurse appointment. Pornography The most common age of first exposure to pornography in the dataset is under 13. A further large share report first seeing porn between 13 and 15. Only a small minority report first exposure at 18 or older. In other words, for most respondents who have seen pornography, it entered their lives before they were legally adults—often well before. Porn use itself is common but not universal. 59.3 percent of respondents report watching pornography, while 40.7 percent say they do not. Among those who do watch, the pattern skews toward moderate frequency rather than daily use. The largest groups report watching weekly or a few times a week, followed closely by those who say they watch rarely or monthly. Only a small minority report daily viewing. The dataset suggests porn is embedded in student life—but not necessarily compulsively so. The gender differences are pronounced. Among men, 80.9 percent report watching pornography—more than four in five. Among women, that figure drops to 47.9 percent, just under half. Non-binary respondents report consumption at 64.7 percent, and gender-diverse respondents at 68.8 percent, placing them between men and women, but closer to men overall. The gap between men and women is one of the clearest divides in this section of the survey. By sexuality, the difference is more subtle. 61.5 percent of LGBTQ+ respondents report watching pornography, compared to 54.8 percent of heterosexual respondents. The gap is measurable but not dramatic. Porn consumption, in this dataset, crosses identity categories—even if the rate and frequency vary. One piece of feedback complicates the framing. An anonymous respondent noted that they “consider reading porn to be different to watching porn” and suggested it could have been an interesting category to include, adding that they consume more written porn and began reading it between 13 and 15. Another reinforced this distinction: “I am not much for video based porn so my expectations surrounding sex were definitely influenced by things I had read rather than watched!” It’s a fair critique. The survey used the term “watch” deliberately, in part because we were interested in the visual and internet-driven forms of pornography most commonly associated with contemporary discourse. But that wording may have flattened distinctions between mediums—particularly for students who engage more with written or audio erotica. It’s a gap worth acknowledging, and one we plan to explore more deliberately in future surveys. Perhaps the most revealing finding is not how often students watch porn, but how they interpret its impact. When asked whether pornography has influenced their expectations of sex, the most common response is ambivalent: both positively and negatively. That answer outpaces those who say it had no effect, or that it influenced them only negatively or only positively. Students do not describe porn in binary terms. They recognise its presence and its influence, but they frame that influence as complicated. Across gender and sexuality, two trends stand out. First, men—particularly heterosexual men—are the most likely to consume porn and the most likely to describe its influence as either mixed or negligible rather than outright negative. Second, women, LGBTQ+ respondents, and gender-diverse students are more likely to acknowledge impact—and more likely to identify negative elements within that impact. The “Fun” Stuff The clearest through-line is that student sexuality is social before it is digital. While dating apps are firmly embedded—a third of respondents report meeting sexual partners through them—the most common answer by a wide margin is mutual friends. Sex, in this dataset, still travels through flat dinners, shared lectures, group chats, and overlapping social circles. Apps matter, but the friend-of-a-friend pipeline remains stronger. Timing is equally predictable, and quietly funny. Just under half of respondents report having sex late at night, with another 40 percent selecting evening. Morning and afternoon barely register. The campus sex life, statistically speaking, is nocturnal. It happens after assignments are submitted, after the party, after the Uber home. Very little of it appears to happen before noon. Students also talk about it—and they talk about it a lot. Among sexually active respondents, 44.3 percent say they discuss sex with friends often, and another 40.2 percent say they do so sometimes. Only 10.9 percent report talking about it rarely, and just 4.7 percent say they never discuss it with friends. Conclusion The survey does not depict a campus in the midst of hookup culture. It shows moderation. Most students are having sex, many within relationships, and partner counts are far less dramatic than stereotypes would suggest. The numbers point to something steady, social, and mostly ordinary. What stands out instead is the gap between sexual activity and sexual healthcare. Nearly half of sexually active respondents report never having been tested for an STI. Most describe themselves as only “somewhat confident” accessing sexual health services. The imbalance is not in how much sex students are having—it is in how supported they feel navigating the systems designed to look after them. Mauri Ora’s message is clear: testing is available, nurse appointments can often be booked within a week, and most STIs are treatable if detected early. The services exist. The question the survey leaves hanging is not whether students are sexually active, but whether they feel confident enough to make routine care part of that normal.

People like to insist their media tastes are neutral, accidental, or purely about “good storytelling,” which is interesting given how consistently those tastes line up with the way they flirt, date, and behave in bed.  This quiz isn’t scientific, but it is based on the fact that people who love prestige television are rarely as chill as they think they are. Add up your letters at the end and sit with (or share with the group chat) whatever that reveals. Pick your favourite horror movie:  Saw Nightmare on Elm Street  Midsommar Sinners The Exorcist  Pick your favourite reality TV:  Fear Factor  The Traitors   Alone   Master Chef The Amazing Race  Pick your favourite actress:  Mia Goth Zendaya Kristen Stewart Anya Taylor-Joy Meryl Streep Pick your favourite scandalous TV: Temptation Island  Too Hot to Handle The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives Love is Blind  Love Island  Pick your favourite TV drama:  Succession Euphoria  Normal People Mad Men  The Sopranos  Pick your favourite actor:  Joaquin Phoenix Michael B Jordan  Daniel Radcliff  Oscar Issac George Clooney Pick your favourite animated TV:  Attack on Titan Avatar: The Last Airbender Bojack Horseman Studio Ghibli films  The Simpsons Pick your favourite TV comedy:  It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia  What we Do in the Shadows The Bear Fleabag The Office  Pick your favourite director:  Stanley Kubrick Stephen Spielberg Alfred Hitchcock Wes Anderson  George Lucas  Mostly A’s—Sadist, Kinky You like intensity, and you get uneasy when things are too quiet, too gentle, or too easy. You’re drawn to control—or at least the careful negotiation of them.. Trust matters to you; you like being trusted with other people's vulnerability. You’re direct about what you want, and you don’t really do subtle things. Your sex life is deliberate, often intense, and very much happening, whether or not you talk about it. You definitely know what Fetlife is.  Mostly B’s—Roleplay, Fantasy-Driven You want context. You care about mood, build-up, and the specific dynamic you’re stepping into with someone. Fantasy isn’t an escape for you so much as a way of understanding yourself—you like trying on roles, stretching identity, seeing how desire shifts depending on the story you’re telling. You flirt easily, even if you frame it as joking, and you’re selective about who gets access to this side of you. Your sex life might not be constant, but it is imaginative, intentional, and very you. Mostly C’s—On Antidepressants/Not Having Much Sex You’re tired in a way that’s hard to explain, so you usually just say you’re “busy” or “not really feeling it lately.” Sex sounds nice in theory, but in practice it can feel like too much effort. You crave intimacy more than urgency and you’d rather talk for hours than rush into anything physical. This isn’t a failure or a flaw—it’s just a low-sex period, and you’re self-aware enough to recognise it. You will have sex again. Just not right now, and that’s okay. Mostly D’s—Classy, Sensual, Eats Box You’re attentive, calm, and confident, which makes you extremely effective. You believe foreplay is essential, not optional, and you don’t rush to intimacy because you enjoy the steps that get you there. You listen, you notice, and you care about pleasure being mutual rather than impressive. You’re not loud about being good at this, but you are—and people tend to remember you. Mostly E’s—Classic, Loud, Slightly Masochistic You are not subtle, and you’ve never really tried to be. You like what you like, you feel things intensely, and you don’t believe good sex should be quiet or restrained. You’re expressive, emotionally and physically, and you commit fully rather than holding back. A bit of drama doesn’t scare you—it probably turns you on—and you’re comfortable with sensation, intensity, and release. Your flatmates have definitely heard things they didn’t need to, and honestly, you’re fine with that. You’re having sex, and everyone  knows it.

In February, the peculiar NomNom Pizza vending machine appeared at the Wellington Train Station.  It promises “Freshly baked artisanal pizza 24/7”. So, of course, like the bulwark of student issues that is Salient , we sent two of our finest news writers to see for themselves whether NomNom really stands up to their slogan claiming “Anytime is Pizza Time”.  Rolling up at a cool 1 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon, Dan and I were greeted by the metal behemoth which was already occupied by two young boys. Clearly the news was out.  We ordered the aptly named Peppeholic 30cm which was described as “Loaded with pepperoni and chorizo over rich tomato sauce—bold, comforting and seriously satisfying.” We were less satisfied at the price, a generous $17.50. A mere 2 minutes later, a pizza-box shaped slot opened up and there in its cheesy glory was our Peppeholic 30cm .  The pizza itself seemed to be misshapen by the metal grid that it sat upon, and it wasn’t precut. Instead, we were provided with a wooden knife taped—with duct tape might I add—to the side of the box. We spent a few minutes sawing at the pizza next to the train station toilets while our resident photographer Sophie looked at us in shame. Fitting, for the Sex Issue.  Eventually, we managed to bite into a slice of the pizza and… it was… fine? Nothing stood out, but, I mean, it was what I expected. A little doughy perhaps, but overall a very typical pepperoni pizza. Or, as Dan Moskovitz put it, “an incredible 6/10.” And that it “would probably be a 9/10 if I was super drunk.”  I concurred, it was an incredibly average pizza.  Throughout this arduous process one question remained: who was this for?  It was more expensive than other fast food pizzas,  and nowhere near as good as more premium pizza offerings such as Scopa. The only thing that ‘ the little NomNom that could’  had going for it was that it had an incredibly fast turn around time.  Perhaps this was for the commuter wanting a quick bite after a long day of work in the public sector? Or a student out on the town, now heading home via train and wanting a drunken snack? We assumed the latter, and decided in order to try  this pizza in all its glory; we must return to it while drunk.  This request was rejected by our Editor Phoebe, who told us that “ Salient  won’t fund our drinking habits.” And so ends our tale of NomNom Pizza. Perhaps you should try it for yourself? But also perhaps not. After all, in a world full of Curriza, why settle for NomNom?

Take this quiz with your friends or flatmates and compare scores. Who’s mild? Who’s extra spicy? Be honest… we won’t tell (but your score might). How to Play: This game has multiple rounds—do as many or as few as you want. Perfect for pacing yourselves or ramping things up. This game is meant to be fun, lighthearted, and pressure-free. Everyone has different boundaries, experiences, and comfort levels—and every score is valid (including not wanting to answer questions). Always prioritize consent, communication, and mutual respect, and remember that safe sex helps keep everyone healthy and happy. Check in with partners, know your limits, and keep conversations open. Play smart, play kind, and enjoy the spice. Once everyone’s done, you can add up your individual scores and compare them to how many rounds you played. Each round has a maximum score of 15, so the total possible points depend on how many rounds you chose (for example, two rounds = 30 points total). If you’re feeling brave, add everyone’s scores together, divide by the number of players, and compare that group average to the total possible score for the rounds you completed. No math required if you don’t want it—but if you do…the average never lies… Round One: Give yourself 1 point for every item you’ve done.  French kissed someone? Given or received a hickey? Been on a date? Been in a relationship? Played a game that involved stripping? Gotten flirty or explicit over video chat? Sent or received a spicy text?  Watched or read porn? Masturbated to a picture or video? Given oral sex? Received oral sex? Used a sex toy with a partner? Seen a stripper? Had a booty call? Done something sexual in a car?  Round Two:  Give yourself 1 point for every item you’ve done.  Had a one-night stand? Caught feelings when you definitely  weren’t supposed to? Kissed someone you just met? Hooked up with a friend? Hooked up with a friend’s friend? Gone back to an ex? Had a “we said we wouldn’t” situation? Kept something secret from the group?  Sent a risky text and immediately panicked? Broken one of your own dating rules? Been involved in a “situationship”? Had chemistry you absolutely couldn’t ignore?  Stayed the night when you swore you wouldn’t? Thought “this is a terrible idea” and did it anyway?  Woke up and said, “Well… that happened”? Round Three:  If you’ve done the deed i n any of the places below, add 1 point for each. On a couch? Over the kitchen counter? On a balcony? In front of a mirror? In a body of water?  At a party (while it was still happening)? In a bathroom that wasn’t yours? In a hotel room? In or on a car?  At a friend’s house? In public?  Outdoors but not planned at all? At your parents’ house? Somewhere you definitely could’ve been caught? On the beach?  Round Four:  Give yourself 1 point for each thing you’ve tried. Used a safe word? Negotiated boundaries beforehand? Used handcuffs or restraints (real or improvised)? Tried edging? Role-played? Tried power play (dominant or submissive)? Pegged someone or been pegged? Gotten food involved?  Experimented with temperature play?  Brought feet into the mix? Tried a kink you learned about online? Discovered a new kink by accident? Made a sex tape? Been on a leash—or leashed someone else? Used a flogger?

Baby, What Was That?  How Heated Rivalry helped us talk about sex  Mild spoilers ahead.  A number of major album releases last week—Mitski, Gorillaz, Bruno Mars, Bill Calahan, 2charm—but I’m putting them all on hold to cover Heated Rivalry this Sex Week, the softcore-porno-turned-character-drama that captivated the zeitgeist last December. There’s a lot to say about the show as a “phenomenon” generally: how it came together on a shoestring budget; was shot at speed over the span of thirty-six days; has launched the careers of its two impressive leads; and even how it’s reopened discussions about straight women’s engagement with gay male romances narratives. What I want to do here, though, is think about the show as a work of art: what it captures of us and why we were so captured by it.  I think part of its success comes from how Heated Rivalry struck its audience in a way rather similar to how intense erotic desire itself does. Its first two episodes in particular run on a highly-sexed charge: Shane Hollander (Hudson Williams) and Ilya Rosanov (Connor Storrie) meet first as up-and-coming teenage hockey players, and there’s immediately a spark. Ilya’s dark, brooding, sexed, and distant (Storrie’s botched Russian accent is weirdly convincing here) and Shane’s sheltered, shy, but at least—as he at one point confesses—owns a dildo. The phenoms are quickly drafted onto rival teams, but the hockey of it all sort of falls to the wayside. A few steamy scenes of on-again off-again hotel sex later, interspersed by title cards that travel us six years (!) in the characters’ lives and careers, and Heated Rivalry has arrived at its third episode largely devoid of characterisation beyond these initial cliches. Me and my flatmate got the slightly guilty feeling that what we were watching was just softcore porn. Favourite line so far? Shane’s accidentally hilarious “Why the fuck did you think it was okay to sext me before the game? What the fuck!”  Until its finale, the show continues at this montage pace—and we the audience are caught up in the heat of it. Ilya treats Shane rather distantly; Shane longingly craves Ilya’s heart, not just his body. The fantasy of a sleazy, domineering guy like Ilya, though, is not that Shane literally wants to be objectified as a sex object. Rather it’s that, in Ilya’s incessant desire for sex, he removes the boundary of shame to help Shane access his own pleasure—all without the indignity of Shane having to ask for it himself. It’s telling that one of the sexual games the couple plays in Episode 2 has Shane “beg” precisely for the sex that Ilya’s dominance and forwardness had previously rendered a given: they break the rule to show us how it had been operating.  “The heat of it” was the phrase I just used to describe the subject matter and narrative speed of these first two episodes—and who doesn’t feel like dating so often starts with the hookup or the dreaded “situationship” phase, knee-deep in the passenger seat, these days? We live in an age where sex is available and consumable on monetised dating apps, and frank discussions about sexual desires and experiences are no longer so taboo. In a similar way, Heated Rivalry answers all of its questions about sexual compatibility upfront: our boys gravitate to each other like magnets. What’s really risque in the context of such sexual frankness is romance.  Something changes at Episode 4, in which Shane misreads what Ilya intends as a moment of intimacy. Feeling chastised by Ilya’s talk of sleeping with girls, and frightened at the prospect of glimpsing the Ilya he needs when he could so easily slip away, Shane calls things off. From this point on, I reckon, Heated Rivalry really becomes Shane’s show, as he slowly learns to lead with love and not fear; as he learns to speak clearly about what it is he needs from his partner. In this, it also becomes a genuinely impressive and convincing character drama.  Isn’t this sort of like how desire works, too? We go along with our lives, our jobs and studies and hobbies, perhaps a random one night stand here and there, when suddenly someone special comes along. Things are turned upside down: the verb associated with this feeling is falling , after all. The hours we’re socialised to have sex in (late night, early morning) are notable in this because they threaten the supremacy of working hours. Running late to your 9 to 5 after a long night with bae? Must be love on the brain.  What I’m trying to say is that, by its fourth episode, I’d fallen head over heels for Heated Rivalry . What began as a guilty indulgence, a summer fling, had evolved into something else—and the show only gets better from there. The extraordinary Episode 5 has had much written about it already, and it’s a highly accomplished piece of television for how it coordinates a number of narrative threads in an epic setpiece, among other reasons. But what really impresses is the quiet Episode 6: set on Shane’s home turf, at his holiday home, it's the only one of the season’s six episodes that doesn’t move at that aforementioned “montage pace”. We spend a slow few days with the couple, this slower sense of timing throwing those prior episodes into a kind of retrospect, as though the tumultuous beginnings of these characters’ relationship is being remembered by their current, older, wiser selves.  If, in the early phases of their relationship, Ilya’s dominance released Shane from the shame of wanting sex, the latter half of the season sees Shane slowly wresting some of that control back from his partner, opening Ilya up to the possibilities of fidelity and romance. That this power play manifests in the normative dyads of top/bottom, dominant/submissive, foreign/local, et cetera, in the context of the show’s lead couple—Ilya/Shane—is so obvious it barely needs remarking. But part of what I love about Heated Rivalry is how straightforwardly it includes these discourses about sex: like any good piece of genre fiction, a lot of its would-be subtext is right in front of our eyes.  It now seems almost like a dream that just a month or so ago this show consumed both my and my social circle’s thinking. My very astute friend Alex wondered if part of its appeal was that it allowed its viewers a chance to talk about their own relationships with pornography, sex, and desire by deferring them onto the show’s ostensibly “fictional” characters—and I think she’s absolutely right on that front. But a lot of media works that way, right? What’s special about Heated Rivalry is how its methods are mimetic of its subject: it struck its audience much like its titular rivalry struck its protagonists. Over six episodes, its initial raunchiness dissolves into romance, erotic intimacy, and subtle characterisation—that bait-and-switch is called love, and even its protagonists didn’t want to see it coming. What a massive show.

Welcome back to Munch, where I have startling news. Certain readers of my work have made crude insinuations about the content of my first column, claiming to find lewd double-meanings within my diction. I have chosen not to engage with such libel and will continue to publish my humble guide to eating out with honesty and innocence. However, this week we will deviate slightly.  Pōneke is a beautiful city this time of year and—as the adage goes—you simply can’t beat it on a good day, even if you’re alone. Inspired by the beautiful weather we’ve had recently, I wanted to share some prime locations where you might take a loved one (or ones), lay down a blanket or a towel, and enjoy a good meal.  What: Princess Bay ⭐⭐⭐⭐ During Wellington’s generally week-long summer, it’s important to go and make the most of the sunshine, clear skies, and warm weather. On our little peninsula, there are a multitude of stunning beaches which are suited for all sorts of activities. The water down here tends to stay cold until the very end of the season, and with the risk of a southerly breeze or  shitstorm never an impossibility, sometimes it’s best to get wet without going in the water. If that appeals, may I recommend Princess Bay around the twilight hour. It’s a beautiful spot that catches most of the sunset, the next best thing after the Makara coast (though Tongue Point is meant to be spectacular, if you can go down there).  The multiple carpark bays at Princess are surrounded by beachside shrubbery and offer some modicum of privacy, should you wish to dine in the car relatively undisturbed. While it’s a well-known spot for late-night liaisons, most people understand the desire for seclusion and will opt to pull in to their own bay. If you’re worried, adopting a Chappell Roan “Casual”-style dining position should keep you covered from the eyes of passersby. And, should you need to wash your hands or mouth afterwards, the sea is right there; a cold dip is always refreshing after a particularly spicy affair.  What: Wrights Hill ⭐⭐⭐ If sunsets by the sea don’t whet your appetite, why not take your snack  somewhere a little higher. The nighttime vistas from Wrights Hill are sure to get a rise out of any partner. Like Princess Bay, there are separate carpark areas—one with a view over the starry city lights, while the other side looks over the shadowy Makara hills and blinking red-light district of the West Wind farm. Everyone loves dinner and a show, even if it’s just you having dinner while they get the show.  If people have beaten you to the parking lots and you’re not into being watched while you eat, why not explore the gun emplacements and underground tunnels dug throughout the hill. A little spooky, maybe, but that’s good to get the blood pumping, and I’m sure there’s plenty of space down there for a proper, sprawled-out picnic.  What: Mount Victoria  ⭐ However, neither Princess Bay nor Wright’s Hill are super accessible, both sitting on the outskirts of the city. They’re certainly not public-transport-able, unless you don’t mind a 20 minute walk to work up your appetite. However, for an evening of dining out with a partner, you’re likely to want your own space anyway, so a car is rather useful. Those mindful of the time might wish to explore a closer peak—seeking their own nook on Mount Victoria, for example. It can be reached easily by car, by bus, by bike, or foot, and I’m sure that intrepid diners will find a lovely, quiet spot to dine together.  May I advise, however, not to get too excited. Of course you want to have at it while everything’s hot; your imagination is thinking ahead already and your mouth’s started watering. But on this peak, patience is key... definitely for those bringing their own car. Tempting as it may be, do not lean over for a quick taste. These winding, one-lane roads require focus and good reflexes on the brakes, no matter how worked up you are for what’s to come. Take it slow and steady (there’s no points for arriving first, anyway). And for those taking public transport, absolutely not! No eating on the bus. This list is by no means exhaustive of where to eat out in Wellington, consider it just the tip. As always, bring plenty of napkins, packaging, and something to wrap leftovers in, make sure everyone is happy with what’s on the menu, and give your compliments to the chef. Eet smakkelijk!