The wind beneath Kiwi wings

What does Wellington have in common with the likes of Pretoria, Canberra, Ottawa and Brasilia? Stick in a Google search of "confused capital cities" and you'll get the answer. For as many people who get them right, there will be more than a fair share offering Auckland, Johannesburg, Sydney (or Melbourne), Toronto and Rio de Janeiro as answers.

For New Zealand, though, the answer was once the other way around. In 1865, Wellington became the capital, taking the title off Auckland amid concerns that the centre of government should be nearer the South Island, across Cook Strait. As such, Wellington can lay claim to being the most southerly capital in the world.

The location of the city brings us nicely to the city's first famous, or infamous, attribute: the wind. Like with Chicago, Wellington's reputation is forged on the gales that can surge across the Tasman and funnel through the Strait. Wellington Council has a scale of five "degrees of windiness".

It can make arriving in the city by air an experience in itself. (Warning: nervous flyers may want to slip the next two paragraphs.)

Pilots love the challenge of landing in Wellington when the wind gets up; the passengers in the back probably less so. Last year, when West Indies were touring, Darren Sammy's team had first-hand experience of the rollercoaster ride (as did this writer on a flight a short while later) when the engines surged, the plane dipped and banked in the gusts, then tried to land - which did not happen at the first attempt for the West Indians. There were more than a few wobbly legs at the baggage carousel.

It was enough for Sammy to say: "Next time, I'm taking the bus." It brought a smile and a giggle from the locals. For them, it's a way of life. Coupled with weather that can change in an instant - the fog can roll in from the sea in less time than it takes to blink - those who travel to Wellington regularly, especially in winter, will not turn a hair if they hear: "We regret to announce the flight has been diverted to…"

When you reach the city, it is well worth it. From the UK, it is about as far as you can travel. That is part of New Zealand's intrigue and mystique. It really is the other end of the world, even if the sign greeting you at the airport - "Welcome to the Middle of Middle Earth" - has more to do with The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

Growing up, watching cricket through the night from Australia had drama, edginess and, often, heavy defeats, but New Zealand brought a gentler, calmer feel and, for a young English cricket supporter, the chance to watch an overseas win or two: The Test series wins of 1992 and 1997 were rare moments of English cricket success away from home.

Still, it just seemed so far away (the place, not England's chance of winning - although that was true as well). New Zealand is often a must-do in the gap-year run. That's when I first went, visiting Wellington during a brisk journey from north to south, sampling various standards of hostels. The city has evolved in the intervening years, but it has retained the laidback vibe and easy-living lifestyle that is so true of much of the rest of the country.

Wellington is a small capital - its population is around 400,000 - which means one is soon in the heart of the city. As you emerge from the Mount Victoria tunnel, right in front will be the Basin Reserve, the iconic, historic home of New Zealand cricket. It has changed very little in the last 20 years. And that is not a criticism.

The grass banks remain, an increasingly unique way to watch international cricket these days, although one can be battered by the elements when the fickle Wellington climate feels like turning. Hats and bails can quickly go missing. For the players, it can be a struggle to stand, and being the into-the-wind bowler at the Basin takes on a whole new meaning. Many a batsman has blamed the wind for an attempted six being caught at mid-off, and bowlers have bemoaned their lot in having to battle against gales.

The ground has not been immune to the modern demands of commercialisation and development. It is now purely a Test venue internationally, and it will not host fixtures at the World Cup, which is a great shame. Instead, they will be played at the impressive, but more homogeneous Westpac Stadium by the harbour. Known as the Cake Tin, Westpac is a multipurpose venue, with floodlights, state-of-the-art facilities, and a greater seating capacity than the Basin. But it is a stadium, not a cricket ground. No doubt with a full house cheering on New Zealand the atmosphere will be fantastic, but it could be dropped into any major city around the world and you wouldn't really know the difference.

With the Basin, you can only be in Wellington. Not least because you are in the middle of a roundabout, while a public footpath runs around in front of the stands. Located within the Basin is the New Zealand Cricket Museum. Want to recall the moustaches and hairstyles, as well as the batting and bowling heroics that have adorned the game? This is the place to visit.

Beyond cricket, too, there is much to explore. Wellington is an arty, cultural, eclectic city. Nowhere is it better exemplified than Cuba Street, the bohemian strip of independent cafés, bars, music stores and shops named after an early settler ship that arrived in 1840. Have a coffee in Fidel's and walk the length of the street to the redeveloped harbour, a reminder of the key part it still plays in the city. Then you can head towards the cable car, which takes the short journey to the Kelburn Lookout. (If you have indulged in too much fine food and wine, walk up instead.)

Depending on the time of day you will see the Interislander ferry chugging back into port or leaving for another journey across Cook Strait. When your time comes to leave Wellington, it is worth considering heading south by this method. It is beautiful crossing towards Picton on the South Island. Just maybe not on a windy day.