I didn't expect to see bok choy on the menu in Greymouth.

I couldn't exactly tell you why, it's just that, well... Greymouth isn't your average bok choy kind of a town. You know the kind I mean - overtly-swanky restaurants with the latest 'Asian-inspired' cuisine; achingly stylish diners wearing the trendiest couture, quaffing the 'right' wine... you get the drift.

Greymouth doesn't have all this. And Greymouth doesn't need it. The beauty of this West Coast town is that it's rough and rugged and happy just the way it is.

As I roll into town in the comfortable West Coast Shuttle, the highway stretches ever onwards, building anticipation with every kilometre. On either side, dense, richly green bush shrouds smatterings of hotch-potch houses. To the left, the ocean pounds the land in furious grey surges.

On first impressions, Greymouth exudes a no-nonsense manner. It's always been an industrial town - first coal and gold mining, then forestry and fishing - and as such, it's the kind of place where I'd expect straight-talking business owners and functional, no-fuss accommodation.

So imagine my surprise when I arrive at the aptly named Global Village Backpackers. Wandering in I instantly feel as if I've joined some enormous international family. Glorious dinner smells mosey down the stairs to greet me in the bright, warm entrance way. Everyone that passes says 'hey!' in that casual-yet-familiar way mastered by backpackers worldwide.

I ring the reception bell and get the perpetually laid-back owner Russell. Russell purchased this building (the old YMCA) a few years back and turned it into a living monument to his many worldly adventures. The bright walls are decorated with detailed batik prints and African-style paintings. Every corner and ledge features an aboriginal sculpture, an enormous Easter-Island like mask or a meticulously carved piece of timber furniture. And every home comfort is adhered to: hot water bottles hang in the hallway, the log burner roars in the lounge and there's even a video room, spa, sauna and bonfire pit.

Down the rainbow hallway I discover my cosy, colourful room. The symphony of the churning sea, pattering rain and a bass line of distant trains lulls me gently to sleep.

Next morning I get to see the Greymouth I had been expecting all along. I'm booked in for a fishing trip with Wildcat Charters and as we head towards the rolling Tasman Sea we cruise past the port, through the dreary industrial area, to the quiet marina. Like any industrial area, Greymouth's is bleak.

But the community has proudly put a considerable amount of time and effort into turning their industries into more than just a dull blip in the region's history books. Scattered throughout the area are artistic reminders of hard-workers gone by: a sculpture of giant, vertical drill bits, striking in their starkness; old timber coal trolleys, perched in their steely glory upon a short stretch of rusted railway track; and the grand Greymouth Harbour Board building, restored to its original 1885 splendour.

At the marina, rows of commercial fishing boats in hues of rusty red and tired yellow bob on the slate coloured ocean. Dwarfed amongst them is the 12 metre long 'Mistral', Greymouth's only charter fishing boat. She rocks sullenly, as if anticipating what I'm about to hear.

The news isn't good. Although the weather's starting to clear, owner Leigh Kelly says it's not worth trying to negotiate Greymouth's notorious sand bar today. We won't be going out. All the same, Leigh invites me onto his boat and taunts me with photos of past clients, smiling widely and waggling hefty, arm-length fish at the camera.

Leigh is a personification of Greymouth's changing face. He is a third generation local commercial fisherman, who's spent years helping to fuel the region's thriving fishing industry. But in 2001, when it was time for a change, Leigh set up Wildcat Charters, and consequently leapt into the burgeoning tourism industry that suddenly had Greymouth in its grasp.

In recent years, tourism has outstripped the traditional industries of mining, forestry and fishing to become the West Coast region's greatest means of income. In 2006, visitor expenditure reached $232.4m. Economic forecasts predict that by 2013, that figure will be closer to $330m.

But despite the steady onslaught of backpacks and buses, Greymouth is coping and adjusting at its own comfortable pace. Amongst the numerous adventure tours and jade carving galleries, Greymouth has developed a raft of comfortable hotels, memorable backpackers and top-quality restaurants. They even have bok choy on the menu.

I can't resist: "I'll have the fish of the day with bok choy," I tell the waitress at Albert's Restaurant. Located inside the central Kingsgate Hotel, Albert's forms part of the original 1906 hotel building and boasts Greymouth's finest dining. Tables are swathed in black cloth, lights are flatteringly soft and the staff are so unobtrusive that we inadvertently keep them waiting as we banter about the thorough wine list.

Sipping on the Church Road Chardonnay I linger over my piquant mushroom and capsicum soup entree and listen as the well-dressed couple at the next table strike up a conversation.

"We frequently travel the world," says the husband. "But every year we come here to Greymouth for a bit of R and R."

He tells me that although they've stayed in the likes of Raffles Hotel in Singapore - renowned as one of the world's top 100 hotels - they always return to Kingsgate Greymouth.

"Even after Raffles we still prefer to stay here. What does that tell you?" he says.

It tells me that perhaps I was wrong.

Perhaps Greymouth is a bok choy kind of town after all.

Amelia visited Greymouth courtesy of West Coast Shuttle and www.fourcorners.co.nz. Accommodation was provided courtesy of Global Village Backpackers, and dining courtesy of Kingsgate Hotel.