The government just unveiled New Zealand's first national infrastructure plan, promising billions for roads, hospitals, and schools across the regions. But here's the number buried in the fine print of regional cost-of-living data: families in the rest of the North Island — everywhere from Palmerston North to Gisborne to Taupō — spent $15,443 on food last year. (Source: Stats NZ, food-price-index-regional)

That's $297 a week. Every week. Just to eat.

Five years ago, in 2020, that same grocery bill was $12,615. The increase — $2,828 — looks manageable on paper. But here's what makes it brutal: inflation over that same period ran at roughly 20-25%. In real terms, these families aren't just paying more. They're getting less for every dollar.

The story gets worse when you zoom out. Back in 1999, when this dataset begins, the annual food bill for these regions was barely half what it is now. A generation of New Zealanders has watched their grocery costs more than double, while wages in regional areas haven't kept pace with either Auckland or Wellington.

This matters right now because these are the same communities the infrastructure plan claims to prioritise. Wairarapa was just cut off by storms, severing access to jobs and supplies. When your weekly grocery bill is already pushing $300, a single weather event that forces you to stockpile — or drive hours to the nearest open supermarket — isn't just an inconvenience. It's a financial crisis.

The trajectory is what's alarming. From 2020 to 2024, food costs in these regions have climbed every single year: $12,615, then $12,926, then $13,992, then $15,362, then $15,443. The curve is relentless. And while last year's increase was smaller than the year before — just $81 — that's cold comfort when you're still spending nearly $3,000 more annually than you were in 2020.

Here's the context nobody's giving you: regional New Zealand doesn't just pay more for food than it used to. It pays more per kilometre of crumbling road, per hour without reliable power, per flood that wipes out a bridge. The infrastructure gap isn't just about missing hospitals or potholes. It's about how much it costs to live somewhere the supermarket duopoly has less competition, where freight adds to every price, where one storm can double your fuel costs for a month.

The infrastructure plan talks about resilience. But resilience isn't just concrete and bitumen. It's whether a family in Dannevirke or Ōpōtiki can afford to live there at all when their grocery bill hits $16,000 next year — and it will, if this trajectory holds.