In the UK, we’ve just held a referendum on whether to leave the EU and two years ago Scotland voted to stay in the UK. In New Zealand they have spent £12m on a referendum on whether to change their flag. The flag was the topic du jour when I returned to the land of my birth earlier this year and this speaks volumes about the preoccupations of the country and where it stands in relation to the rest of the world. Having settled in Scotland, returning to Wellington, where I spent my formative years, is always a strange hybrid of the familiar and the foreign.

When I left Wellington towards the end of last century, it was very much the second city to Auckland, which was larger, more vibrant and cosmopolitan. It also had hot weather while we just had wind. The capital began to change in the 1980s not long after Sir Basil Spence’s Beehive modernised the parliament buildings and the city woke up to the potential of its beautiful harbour nearby. Warehouses by the wharves were transformed into upmarket restaurants along a landscaped harbour walk that takes in Te Papa (Our Place), the magnificent waterfront museum which opened in 1998. Incidentally, the five-storey hotel previously on the site was jacked up and moved a few hundred metres down the road, a fairly common occurrence in NZ where people often buy a site, sell off the house and move it somewhere else then put up something new. There is little sentimentality about preserving the past for its own sake.

Which brings us back to the flag. From conversations with my friends, it was clear that many people wanted a new flag that reflected the country’s distinctive Maori culture. What they didn’t like was the way the shortlist had been manipulated by Prime Minister John Key and his committee of cronies with not one expert flag designer among them. The alternative, nicknamed the beach towel, featured a feather-like, more white than silver fern where the Union design used to be alongside the four Southern Cross "stars" of the existing flag. Even before the referendum, many houses and buildings were flying this alternative flag, an arrogance which didn’t play well with the electorate. No wonder they voted to keep the one they already have.

The flag debate is indicative of how young New Zealand still is as a country, but also how it is beginning to mature. When Abel Tasman named the country Staten Landt in 1642, Rembrandt had just finished painting Night Watch and Britain was engulfed in the first English Civil War. Although the arrival of the first white settlers in NZ caused many conflicts, over the years relations with the Maoris, many of whom intermarried, have been relatively harmonious compared with the Aborigines in Australia. The NZ government’s policy of returning large tracts of tribal lands over the last 30 years has helped heal the past and foster a change in attitudes.

What struck me most though is how the inherent vibrancy and richness of Maoritanga is far more integrated into daily life than it was when I was a child. Yes, we did learn Maori stick tossing songs, twirled our flax skirts and swung our pois, but it felt tokenistic. Everywhere you go now, you get signs and information in Maori as well as in English. Many of my friends have learned the language and frequently use Maori words in conversation. Listening to TV and radio announcers, it took me a few seconds to comprehend that Tu-po is the town I had always called Taupo, the suburb of Petone is now pronounced "ton" rather than "tone" and "wh" is not "wah" but "fa", which completely changes place names such as Whakatane.

During my stay, Wellington completely defied my childhood memories of wind and rain-lashed weather by producing a scorching hot summer. Staying at a B&B in one of the harbour’s eastern bays was like living in the tropics where a dip in the sea was actually warm and pleasant. Days Bay was immortalised in Katherine Mansfield’s short story At the Bay and the house she stayed in still exists, but only just. Winter storms which lashed the bays in what the writer would have called a "buster" caused considerable damage to this house. Locals were bemused when the builders repairing it put up a sign proudly announcing their restoration of Jane (sic) Mansfield’s house.

Most of the houses around the bays are hidden among the lush native bush up hillsides so steep many, including this B&B, boast a private cable car. Building these homes is an impressive feat and testimony to the inventiveness which looms large in NZ’s DNA. For a small country it punches above its weight in many areas, not just rugby, and is adept at using its size to its advantage.

Take conservation, which has taken on a whole new meaning in NZ where the country is militant in policing its ban on imported food and plant material with transgressors facing hefty fines and possibly imprisonment. This is part of a concerted drive to eradicate many of the non-native animals and plants which are endangering indigenous species. A quarter of NZ’s native bird species are now extinct. Flightless birds such as the kiwi and the kakapo (a parrot owl) are under threat and there are now breeding programmes on more than 100 coastal islands which have been cleared of predators. Rats, mice and possums are being poisoned in their droves and everyone is doing their bit, including my Days Bay hosts, who added an impressive 50 possums to the dead count.

Deaths of an altogether different kind were commemorated in two excellent exhibitions to mark the centenary of the First World War. Te Papa’s Gallipoli – the Scale of our War is a moving account about what started off for many young Kiwis as a great adventure to the Turkish coast in April 1915 to reinforce the Australians at Anzac Cove. It was a shambles from start to finish and resulted in the death of 97 per cent of those who went to war. The exhibition uses archive material to tell the stories of those who served. Most impressive were the larger than life-sized models, made in painstakingly accurate detail by Weta Workshop, the creative design studio who grabbed the attention of the world for their contributions to Sir Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy.

The Wellington-based director was also behind the The Great War Exhibition at the Dominion Museum at Pukeahu (Mt Cook) National War Memorial Park, with many items, such as uniforms and artillery pieces, from his own personal collection. It complements the exhibit at Te Papa, and one of the most striking elements is the photography. Jackson argues that the soldiers did not see the war in black and white so he arranged for all the archive photographs to be enlarged and hand-coloured. The effect is immediate and powerful and you can almost feel the heat, inhale the dust and taste the ghastly food, much of it from the Boer War and well past its sell-by date.

Wellington owes much of its recent transformation to Jackson. His WingNut Films, along with the Weta Workshop, are located in Miramar next to the airport, a suburb I recall from childhood visits as being quite dull. The influx of creatives from around the globe, especially Los Angeles, has altered this area specifically and Wellington more generally. Trendy coffee houses and restaurants have sprung up all over the city. Jackson has also restored beautifully the Roxy Art Deco cinema in Miramar – I don’t even remember Miramar having a cinema.

Although New Zealand is carving out its own identity – a combination of the best of Britain and America with a heavy dose of Kiwi chutzpah thrown in for good measure – it readily acknowledges its European heritage and links to Scotland in particular. During my sojourn the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo came to town – complete with a replica of the castle – with just under 140,000 people packing Wellington’s Westpac Stadium over four nights to see the spectacle. Traffic on the motorway piled up, restaurants were packed and there was not a bed to be had south of Martinborough – the equivalent of having to travel to Dunkeld from Edinburgh.

However, despite these centuries-old links, New Zealand will not think twice about loosening or cutting these ties if it sees fit. A vote to keep the flag doesn’t rule out a change some time in the future, just as the decision is no guarantee the country will not one day become a republic. There’s also every likelihood that the informal Maori name, Aotearoa (the land of the long white cloud), will become more permanent. One thing is certain, New Zealand is growing up and will go its own way whatever flag flies from the flagpole.

TRAVEL NOTES

Getting there

Susan Nickalls travelled from Edinburgh to Wellington via Abu Dhabi and Sydney with Etihad Airways (return fares from £1,500). Other airlines also offer flights at similar fares via London.

Where to stay

Susan Nickalls stayed at ferntreehideaway.co.nz. Accommodation in Wellington ranges from hotels such as James Cook, Rydges and InterContinental (from £120 a night) to B&B (bnb.co.nz has options from £80 a night). Alternatively, or take a homestay with local people (wellingtonhomestay.org or homestay.com/new-zealand/wellington has options from £14 a night).

Other information

Visit wellingtonnz.com, gallipoli.tepapa.govt.nz and roxycinema.co.nz.