The streets are starting to fill again, after the extraordinary emptiness that takes over in Auckland - and probably most of our cities - just after Christmas. (Although it may not be so noticeable elsewhere: a friend in Dunedin has noted she gets annoyed if she can't park right outside the cinema; we're pleased if we can park in the same suburb.)

It's unbelievably pleasant, not having to worry that you'll get bowled crossing away from the lights - or even at them, sometimes.

It's quiet, and calm, and the smell of smoke and rubber clears. And you wonder if it might be like this all the time if the public transport was that of a modern city.

Then I remember how awful NZ drivers are, inconsiderate, overconfident, underskilled, and the dream fades. Fewer cars would only encourage racing and recklessness. The toll might be the lowest for years, but it's not the drivers that have got better: it's sharper policing (though look in vain for that cop when a boy racer guns it past you on the highway) and pure luck. Hands up who turns over when that "sad" road safety ad comes on - the one with the boy telling the story - or any road safety ad. You can be sure the worst drivers aren't watching either.

And then I read yet another silly piece in the Press (can't find it online) about how awful Auckland is, and I felt better about the city. Pleased that Wellington has got over its long snit with us, a shoulder-chip that Christchurch just can't seem to shake. The article even revives the old canard about how Auckland is a drain on the public purse, rather than accept that we underspent our share of tax money for years and drive the national economy like it or not. This kind of thing is getting a bit embarrassing.