US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton is greeted by officials after she arrives in Wellington.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's jet taxies to the military terminal after arriving in Wellington.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's jet touches down at Wellington airport.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton arrives in Wellington, flanked by US Ambassador David Huebner and Foreign Affairs Minister Murray McCully.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton is greeted by US Ambassador David Huebner.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton is greeted by US Ambassador David Huebner.

US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton is flanked by (from left) Wellington mayor Celia Wade-Brown, US Ambassador David Huebner, and Foreign Affairs minister Murray McCully.

WELCOME HILLARY: United States Secretary of State Hillary Clinton gets a hongi from Rose White Tahuparae at the Powhiri on the Parliament Forecourt.

USA Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton waves to the small crowd at Parliament with PM John Key at her side.

United States Secretary of State Hillary Clinton places a rose on the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior at the National War Memorial.

United States Secretary of State Hillary Clinton after placing a rose on the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior at the National War Memorial.

It was the one thing not to say, and John Key said it. "President Clinton ... sorry. Secretary Clinton. Close."

It could have been an embarrassing gaff. But somehow, it was a fitting, clumsy full-stop on a very Kiwi effort at hosting the world's most powerful woman.

Mr Key and Foreign Minister Murray McCully were obviously – and understandably – a bit nervy at the press conference to announce the Wellington Declaration.

Trailing a striding mass of suited men and women, Mr Key had a quiet word with US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton before they got under way.

"This is where we have our weekly press conference," he whispered. "It's a nice room," she nodded.

Mr Key began reading from a statement. He can be wooden, dry, almost perfunctory when doing so. Yesterday, he managed a bit more fizz, but his prepared jokes still feel a bit flat.

"I understand you've already braved Wellington's wind during a walk around the waterfront this morning, so you'll have a first-hand appreciation of why the local rugby team is called the Hurricanes," he laughed.

No one else did.

Mrs Clinton was, not surprisingly, more practised. It was true, she said, that she had landed early in Wellington.

"Shortly thereafter, I took a walk around the coolest little capital in the world and enjoyed it immensely."

She laid it on thick, with a fulsome account in praise of our efforts in "nearly every corner of the globe". She had enjoyed "excellent conversations" with both Mr Key and Mr McCully.

"In a world where solving problems takes more partners than ever before, New Zealand punches way above its weight in every sector of challenge."

Mr Key could probably have exploded with glee. Instead, he dropped another Keyism.

An American reporter had been told to "fire away", rather than wait for a microphone to ask a question. "Not literally," Mr Key joked.

Mrs Clinton laughed this time.

For all her polish, she wasn't always spot-on, either; thanking Mr Key for the welcoming "po-er-ee" – she meant powhiri.

But she fixed that, getting the word right at a reception in Parliament's banquet hall. There, she shook dozens more hands, including a long, sincere grasp with Defence Force chief Jerry Mateparae.

It was "probably" correct, Mrs Clinton concluded, that the US-New Zealand relationship was at its best for 25 years.