Our visit to the Hundertwasser Art Centre was the final big stop on our Northland roadie in Charly the Campervan.
We had travelled north from Auckland, following the Twin Coast Discovery Highway and using the Te Tai Tokerau Northland Visitor Map to help plan our route. After a few days exploring Northland with Finlay and all the equipment that comes with travelling with a powerchair user with high support needs, we had spent our final night at the Whangārei TOP 10 Holiday Park.
The plan for the morning was fairly ambitious: find some breakfast, finally visit the Hundertwasser Art Centre, and then get ourselves back on the road to Auckland so Charly could be returned in time to be cleaned and prepared for its next adventure. By this point, Finlay was also more than ready to get home for a good shower, and that was entirely my fault.
Travelling with a mobile hoist, but no controller
Our mobile hoist is a pretty essential piece of equipment when we travel with Finlay, but somehow I had managed to bring it all the way to Northland without its controller. I think the controller had been removed when we’d previously travelled with the hoist on Air New Zealand for safekeeping during transit and, alas, I had forgotten to put it back on again.
So there we were, travelling around Northland with a perfectly good mobile hoist that we couldn’t actually operate. I felt very silly, and without it showering and some of Finlay’s transfers became considerably more complicated. By the end of the roadie, he was understandably more than ready to get home and have a proper shower.
Lesson learnt: when travelling with disability equipment, it’s just as important to check all the little pieces as it is the big ones.
Finding mobility parking at the Town Basin
We found mobility parking near the Town Basin that worked really well for the large campervan. For us, the width of a mobility park can be just as important as how close it is to the attraction, particularly when you need enough room alongside the vehicle to safely operate wheelchair access equipment.
Charly has an expanding side wall that needs to come out slightly to create enough internal space for Finlay to move from his passenger position through to the rear-entry wheelchair hoist. Because of that, we need a mobility park with enough clearance alongside the vehicle to safely operate everything without another car sitting too close.
The mobility parking we found worked really well for us and gave us the space we needed. It’s one of those accessibility details that can easily be overlooked, because a mobility park can technically be accessible while still not providing enough room for a larger wheelchair-accessible vehicle. When you’re travelling in something like Charly, the width and surrounding clearance can matter just as much as how close the park is to the attraction.
Breakfast first
Before we tackled the Art Centre, we needed food. Finlay was a little out of sorts that morning, so somewhere with outdoor seating felt like the best option. We found a great spot along the waterfront where we could sit outside, have breakfast and give him a bit of space before heading on.
Food did the trick, and once he’d eaten, Finlay was noticeably happier and ready to get moving. The Town Basin itself is incredibly easy to explore with a wheelchair, with wide footpaths, open squares and a lovely accessible waterfront walk lined with cafés, galleries and plenty to look at along the way.
It’s the sort of place where you can simply wander without constantly having to think about finding the next accessible route, which makes the whole area feel very easy and relaxed to explore. And you certainly can’t miss the Hundertwasser Art Centre.
What an incredible building
I had been wanting to visit the Hundertwasser Art Centre for ages, and I think it’s fair to say I was rather more excited about it than Finlay was. What can I say? It is completely crazy, in the best possible way, and from the moment we arrived I loved the colour, the creativity and the sheer sense of fun in the building.
Colour, mosaics, curves, plants, columns, unusual windows and deliberately uneven lines seem to be everywhere, with the magnificent golden cupola sitting above it all. It felt less like walking towards an art gallery and more like walking towards an enormous piece of art, and I absolutely loved it.
The Centre houses the Hundertwasser in New Zealand exhibition as well as the Wairau Māori Art Gallery, with the Afforested Roof and golden cupola adding to the experience above. But with Hundertwasser’s love of uneven surfaces and complete dislike of straight lines, I was also very interested to see what all that creativity would mean in practice for wheelchair access.
Getting inside
We entered through wide glass double doors into the reception area.
One of the first accessibility features I noticed was the reception counter. It had a lowered wheelchair-accessible section, meaning Finlay could position himself where he could actually see the staff member behind the desk rather than facing a wall of counter.
It might seem like a small detail, but it makes a difference. Then I spotted something else that made me very happy: the Hāpai Access Card signage was sitting there in plain sight. Finlay had only recently received his card, so this was our first opportunity to use it, and because his card includes the +1 companion entitlement, an essential caregiver or support person could enter free with him.
This is so important. If someone needs another person with them in order to access a venue safely, that support person shouldn’t become an extra financial barrier. Seeing the Hāpai signage clearly displayed also meant we didn’t have to ask awkward questions or explain the card; we immediately knew the Centre recognised it.
Staff who noticed the person, not just the wheelchair
The staff were one of the highlights of our visit. The woman helping us at reception could see that Finlay wasn’t quite himself that morning and, rather than immediately directing us towards an indoor exhibition, she suggested we head straight upstairs to the rooftop garden where the fresh air might be better for him. I thought that was incredibly insightful.
She pointed out the lifts and told us she would meet us upstairs so she could show us how to use the inclined platform lift that travels up the winding staircase towards the golden cupola. It didn’t feel like somebody simply telling us where the accessible route was; she had noticed Finlay and was thinking about what might actually make the visit enjoyable for him. And she was absolutely right, because the rooftop ended up being his favourite part.
Taking the lift to the Afforested Roof
To reach the passenger lift, we passed through another set of double doors. We found these a little heavy, so some people using wheelchairs independently may need assistance opening them.
The lift itself had just enough space for Finlay in his powerchair, Rosie, his sister, and me.
The buttons were positioned where they could be reached from a wheelchair and included Braille.
The Centre officially advises that a lift is available between floors and that wheelchair-accessible pathways are provided throughout the building despite Hundertwasser’s intentionally undulating floors. It also has two wheelchairs available to borrow, which can be reserved in advance. I do think there is an opportunity here for the Centre to be quite strategic about the type of mobility equipment it provides. Rather than only offering a standard wheelchair with small front castors, it could be really useful to have at least one chair with larger castors or wider, more forgiving tyres that would glide more easily over the uneven mosaic flooring. Likewise, a more supportive walker or rollator could make a real difference for visitors who can walk but need extra stability on undulating surfaces.
We headed up towards the Afforested Roof.
When you leave the lift, the steep winding staircase is immediately to your right, so with a larger powerchair I’d take a moment to orient yourself before moving away from the lift area. Circulation was manageable for Finlay’s chair, and I also noticed that the mat on the floor didn’t interfere with his wheels. That’s worth mentioning because mats and loose floor coverings can sometimes be surprisingly difficult to roll over, particularly with smaller castors or manual chairs.
From there we went through an open, wide hinged glass door and onto the roof.
The Afforested Roof
This was where Finlay came alive again.
The rooftop is fabulous, with planting all around you, wonderfully strange architecture, colourful surfaces and fantastic views across the Town Basin, Hātea River and Whangārei. You also get a completely different perspective of the building itself from up there, which makes it feel like part garden, part viewing platform and part artwork.
The flooring continues Hundertwasser’s intentionally irregular style. We managed it well with Finlay’s powerchair, but it is something to be aware of if uneven surfaces are difficult for you, particularly in wet weather when some of the outdoor areas may become slippery.
The Centre describes the roof as wheelchair accessible and confirms that ticket holders can reach it by lift as well as stairs. Once we’d had a good look around the rooftop, we came to the part I had been especially interested in testing: the platform stair lift to the golden cupola.
The platform stair lift and the golden cupola
An inclined wheelchair platform lift follows the winding staircase upwards towards the viewing platform beneath the golden cupola.
The member of staff met us there and was incredibly encouraging, clearly wanting Finlay to have the same opportunity to experience the top as everyone else. At first, the lift’s weight capacity sounded more than adequate for Finlay and his powerchair, but once we positioned him on the platform it quickly became clear that weight wasn’t actually our problem.
The size of the platform was. A separate accessible-travel listing gives the lift a total weight capacity of 380 kg, although I’m still confirming this directly with the Hundertwasser Art Centre before treating it as an official specification. From photographs taken during our visit, and using the known size of Finlay’s Invacare TDX SP2 powerchair as a guide, we estimate the usable platform to be approximately 800 mm wide x 1000 mm long. I’m also checking those dimensions with the Centre and will update them if necessary.
What the photograph shows really clearly is that width wasn’t the main issue for Finlay. His powerchair fitted reasonably comfortably between the sides of the platform; length was the problem. Once he was positioned on the lift, his feet and footplate extended beyond the usable platform and onto the folding ramp section. The staff were wonderfully encouraging, and we probably could have tried tilting Finlay further forward, raising his footplate and supporting his feet by hand, but in the end I decided not to push it.
Finlay wasn’t particularly bothered about getting to the top, and I wasn’t comfortable sending him up an inclined stair lift when his wheelchair wasn’t properly contained within the usable platform. I also had slight visions of getting him stuck halfway up the building! Had he desperately wanted to go, we probably would have explored every possible safe option.
Interestingly, after I shared our experience on the Grab Your Wheels Facebook page, another powerchair user contacted me to say he had encountered the same problem. His mid-sized mid-drive powerchair could not fit safely within the platform either, which raised an important point about the difference between a lift’s weight capacity and whether a wheelchair will actually fit on it.
Weight capacity isn’t the same as wheelchair compatibility
Accessibility information about lifts often focuses heavily on maximum weight, which is useful, but for a powerchair user it is only part of the equation. A platform may comfortably carry the combined weight of a wheelchair and its occupant while still being too short or too narrow for the chair itself. Powerchairs can have extended footplates, anti-tip wheels, positioning equipment, tilt and recline, headrests and very different wheel configurations, so there really is no such thing as one standard-sized wheelchair.
For this reason, I think providing usable platform dimensions alongside the lift’s weight capacity is incredibly important. If you use a larger powerchair, particularly one with an extended seating or footplate configuration, I’d suggest checking the platform dimensions with the Hundertwasser Art Centre before assuming you’ll be able to reach the cupola. If we came back and getting Finlay right to the top was important to us, we’d probably bring his manual wheelchair, which we feel would be much better suited to this particular lift. The Centre also has two wheelchairs available to borrow if reserved in advance, although whether one of these would meet someone’s individual positioning and support needs is another matter.
What is at the top?
Although Finlay didn’t make that final journey to the top, I did, and the views were incredible. I took plenty of photographs so I could show exactly what visitors can expect once they reach the viewing area beneath the golden cupola.
From beneath the golden cupola you can look out across the Town Basin, waterfront and Hātea River, while also getting a wonderful bird’s-eye view of the architecture below.
The Art Centre itself describes the cupola as providing sweeping views over the Hātea River and Whangārei cityscape.
It is absolutely worth going up if the access works for you.
It’s just a pity that those final few metres currently won’t work for every wheelchair.
Exploring the exhibitions
Eventually we headed back inside to explore the exhibitions. I loved this part.
The more I learnt about Friedensreich Hundertwasser, the more fascinating I found him. His art, ecological thinking, architectural ideas and wonderfully unconventional way of looking at the world all come together inside the building.
There were paintings, architectural models, stories and examples of his environmental ideas, and everywhere you looked there seemed to be another insight into the mind behind this completely extraordinary place.
Finlay, alas, was less impressed. He’s really not one for reading exhibition panels.
I also think the darker environment in some of the exhibition spaces wasn’t doing much for him that day. He seemed much less engaged inside than he had been outside on the rooftop, which is pretty typical of Finlay. Give him fresh air, people, movement and wind in his face, and he’s generally pretty happy; give him a room full of reading material, and you’re pushing your luck.
For visitors with intellectual disability, sensory differences or people who simply prefer more active environments, I think it’s useful to know that the experience can feel quite different between the bright, open rooftop and the darker exhibition areas.
Audio guides and other access options
The Centre does offer several other accessibility options that may be useful depending on your needs.
Audio guides are available, with free audio guides offered to visitors with significant visual impairments. Guide dogs and assistance dogs are welcome, walking sticks are available to borrow, and two wheelchairs can be reserved ahead of a visit. Guided tours are also available, and the Centre encourages visitors with particular access requirements to contact them beforehand.
The Hāpai Access Card information also notes that staff can assist visitors who have difficulty standing or queuing and can provide seating in different areas where required.
It was good to see accessibility being considered beyond simply installing a lift.
Accessible toilets
Of course, I couldn’t leave without photographing the accessible toilets. Finlay can’t personally use a standard accessible toilet, but I always try to photograph them for Grab Your Wheels so other people can see what they’re likely to encounter. A wheelchair symbol on the door really doesn’t tell you enough about how much space there is, how easy the room is to manoeuvre in, or whether the layout will actually work for you.
The Centre officially lists wheelchair-accessible toilets on both the ground and first floors. The ground-floor accessible toilet was possibly one of the more visually entertaining accessible loos I’ve seen.
The Hundertwasser experience doesn’t stop when you go to the bathroom. There are mosaics, colour and unusual details everywhere, so even the accessible toilet is great fun to look at. From a practical point of view, though, we found the circulation reasonably tight for a larger powerchair, and I also noticed that the mirror wasn’t positioned where someone seated in a wheelchair could easily use it.
The upstairs accessible toilet, off the exhibition area, was noticeably more spacious once inside. Even so, getting a larger powerchair through the hinged doorway was still a little tight, so while it offered more room than the downstairs toilet, it may still be worth approaching with a bit of care if you use a larger chair.
Neither toilet could meet Finlay’s needs, as he requires both a hoist and an adult-sized changing surface for personal care, and there isn’t a Changing Places-style facility here with those features. This is why I keep banging on about the difference between an accessible toilet and a toilet that is genuinely accessible to someone with high and complex personal-care needs. They are not the same thing.
Theatre, galleries and a rather tempting Museum Shop
On the ground floor, we checked out the Wairau Māori Art Gallery, Te Huarewa Toi Wairau Māori.
We also checked out the theatre.
There were already people inside watching a film and, by this stage, Finlay had become increasingly vocal about his feelings on the whole indoor-gallery experience.
We decided that joining people halfway through a quiet film screening probably wasn’t going to improve anybody’s cultural experience, so we kept moving. There was plenty of circulation space through the main gallery areas for Finlay’s powerchair, which made it easy to continue exploring without feeling cramped.
And then I found the MuseumShop.
Oh dear. It was absolutely chock-full of fascinating books, artwork, souvenirs and Hundertwasser-inspired goodies. I eventually escaped with what has now become one of my favourite T-shirts. Finlay, meanwhile, perked up almost immediately when we emerged outside again.
Ramp access to Aqua Restaurant
Once outside, I spotted a ramp and naturally had to investigate where it went. It leads up to Aqua Restaurant. The official accessibility information confirms ramp access on the Marina side of the Town Basin.
The ramp was wide enough for Finlay’s powerchair, and we found the gradient manageable. Some manual wheelchair users may appreciate assistance.
I’ve also been told it can become slippery when wet, so that’s worth bearing in mind.
The restaurant was very busy when we visited, and I decided against photographing inside. It would have been almost impossible to get a useful access shot without filling it with unsuspecting diners.
From what I could see, there wasn’t a huge amount of circulation space inside, so if you use a particularly large wheelchair and are specifically planning to eat there, it may be worth contacting the restaurant beforehand about a suitable table.
Te Kākano, The Seed
Finlay and I carried on along the waterfront and came across another little burst of familiar architecture.
This is Te Kākano, or The Seed.
Te Kākano predates the finished Hundertwasser Art Centre and was created as part of the journey towards constructing the much larger building.
It was used as an opportunity for local tradespeople and craftspeople to practise the unusual construction methods and materials that would later feature in the Art Centre. Once you know that, its name makes perfect sense. It’s like a small seed from which the much larger Hundertwasser building eventually grew. I loved stumbling across it as we wandered along the waterfront.
What the Art Centre says is accessible
According to the Hundertwasser Art Centre’s current visitor information, accessibility features include a passenger lift between floors, wheelchair-accessible pathways through the undulating flooring, accessible toilets on two levels, two reservable wheelchairs, walking sticks, audio guides, assistance-dog access, nearby mobility parking and ramp access to Aqua Restaurant.
The Afforested Roof can also be reached by lift, while an exterior chair lift provides wheelchair access towards the upper viewing platform. That’s a pretty good list.
But as we discovered, the really useful question isn’t simply:
So, how accessible did we find the Hundertwasser Art Centre?
Overall, I was really impressed. Getting into the building was easy, the lowered reception counter was thoughtful, and the main lifts accommodated Finlay’s powerchair. Circulation through most areas was good, we could get him onto the fabulous Afforested Roof, the Hāpai Access Card removed the additional admission cost of an essential companion, and there were accessible toilets on two floors.
More than anything, I appreciated the way the staff interacted with Finlay. They noticed that he was a little out of sorts and suggested something that might work better for him. They also genuinely wanted him to have the same opportunity to reach the top as everyone else and were enthusiastic about helping us try. That matters. The biggest limitation for us was the final platform lift to the golden cupola. It exists specifically to provide wheelchair access, yet its physical dimensions meant Finlay’s powerchair couldn’t fit safely on it. It was a really good reminder that accessibility is rarely a simple yes or no. A lift can work perfectly well for one wheelchair user and not for another, just as a toilet can carry an accessible symbol while still being too small for someone who needs more circulation room.
A venue can do a great deal right and still have gaps, and that is exactly why sharing the detail matters. For Finlay, the rooftop itself was the highlight. For me, it was the whole building. I loved the colour, the madness, the architecture and learning more about the extraordinary man behind it all.
Would we go back? Absolutely. And next time, if I was determined to get Finlay right up underneath that golden cupola, I’d probably bring his manual wheelchair. I’d also make absolutely certain I packed the mobile-hoist controller.
Grab Your Wheels accessibility snapshot
Mobility parking: Yes. We found parking close to the Town Basin with enough clearance for our large accessible campervan.
Step-free entrance: Yes, through wide glass double doors.
Wheelchair-height reception counter: Yes.
Hāpai Access Card: Yes. The Centre participates in the scheme and the +1 entitlement provides a free essential companion ticket.
Passenger lift: Yes. It accommodated Finlay’s Invacare TDX SP2 powerchair plus two people during our visit.
Braille lift controls: Yes, noted during our visit.
Undulating floors: Yes, but wheelchair routes are provided throughout the building.
Afforested Roof: Accessible by main internal lift.
Golden cupola/viewing platform: Inclined wheelchair platform lift provided, but Finlay’s powerchair did not fit safely within the usable length.
Estimated platform size: Approximately 800 mm wide x 1000 mm long, awaiting confirmation from the Art Centre.
Reported lift capacity: 380 kg, awaiting confirmation directly from the Art Centre.
Loan wheelchairs: Two are available and should be reserved in advance.
Accessible toilets: Yes, ground and first floor. We found the downstairs toilet tighter for a large powerchair and the upstairs room more spacious. Also, mirrors were too high.
Adult-sized changing table: No.
Ceiling hoist: No.
Changing Places-style bathroom: No.
Audio guides: Yes.
Guide and assistance dogs: Welcome.
Restaurant: Ramp access to Aqua Restaurant from the Marina side.
Gallery circulation: Generally very good for Finlay’s large powerchair.
Town Basin: Excellent wheelchair-friendly waterfront paths with cafés, galleries and other attractions nearby.
Would we return? Absolutely.