Recently, I found myself traversing a Dunedin street when I came across a sight that both frightened and scared me. While I resisted the urge to scream, I had to admit that I was a little bit scared. As it is, I’m not the only one to feel a tiny bit scared by what can only be described as an invasion. A super swarm of political advertising billboards has invaded the country. Some however, I’ve noticed on my daily commute appear in the most random of places. It’s as if they were put up by someone who clearly needed (or wanted) to be somewhere else. Anywhere, but what they were doing! I always feel that these billboards can be put into one of three categories. The first of these categories are billboards that show people I’ve never heard of, the second is people I wish I’d never heard of and the third category is politicians who appear to be after my soul and think they will get it with a terrifying smile. Some people just aren’t naturally smiley people. To be fair, I’m sure most politicians are genuinely nice people and I don’t actually have anything against them or their party per se. But, an ill-placed advertising billboard with a lifesize Judith Collins or Winston Peters attempting to smile is just plain terrifying. These alarming things are everywhere! On buses, cars, street signs, billboard signs, lamp posts, street corners, shop windows, the television and in newspapers. If there’s one thing that’s guaranteed to scare the crap out of me at 7:00am in morning it’s an ill-placed, lifesize political billboard of David Seymour’s beaming grin jumping out at me. The other day, having done my best to ignore, avoid, dodge and evade these political offerings I decided that it was time for some solitude. Then, I remembered American dance choreographer Twyla Tharp. She once wrote about solitude being an unavoidable part of creativity and how being comfortable with solitude strengthens creativity. This is what I needed. To escape this political super swarm a walk was in order. So, without a second to lose I headed out the door and straight for Second Beach. I love Dunedin’s Second Beach. Along this stretch of beach, years of constant wave movement have created great drifts of raggedly oval stones of all sizes, worn to a polished smoothness. In places, they are nearly impossible to walk on. Your feet sink with each step while at the same time having to navigate piles of driftwood that have washed up. At any one time, you’ll meet anyone and everyone from the young to old, those getting their daily fitness quota, surfers and people just enjoying a tranquil escape. I sat for 15 minutes and took in the sound of the sea. The sound of the waves crashing into the shore creating a seemingly endless musical score of stones clattering on the water’s edge. It really is one of the most glorious places in Dunedin. John's Blog https://fromasmallcity.nz/ The latest print price guide: https://bit.ly/3oLw9OI
What I have always found slightly confusing about Tunnel Beach is that it is there at all. As spectacular and interesting as Tunnel Beach is, it is hard to imagine the Cargill children getting excited by a visit. Let me explain. Tunnel Beach was commissioned to be built for John Cargill and his family in the 1870s. This was so that his family could visit a private beach, away from the ‘peeping’ eyes of the general public. To me, this is where the confusion starts to happen. To get to the beach his family would have had to go by either foot, cart or horse alongside the high, steep cliffs, which couldn’t have been a pleasant trip. The beach is shaded by the sun from the steep cliffs and is small and rocky with a small low tide window. Hardly a place you could spend all afternoon at while the kids built sandcastles! So, somehow I can’t imagine the Cargill children leaping with joy when their father would announce they are ‘going to the beach’ for the day. According to Local legend, Tunnel Beach is the scene of a tragic drowning. The story goes that after John Cargill made the private beach for his family, one of his daughters drowned there on her sixteenth birthday at high tide. Overcome with grief, John Cargill was so heartbroken that he left New Zealand and never returned. However, there are no sources to prove this story is true. John's Blog https://fromasmallcity.nz/ The latest print price guide: https://bit.ly/3oLw9OI
Nothing is more comfortable than sleeping in your own bed. After being away for a few nights, I awoke feeling refreshed. I’d survived my Walk In The Snow, my Walk In The Badlands and A Walk In The Bush. Now, I had the day free to myself. With no plans and not having to be relatively useful to anyone, I decided a walk in town would be just the ticket. Besides, there was a Colin McCahon Exhibition showing at the Art Gallery which I very much wanted to see. With the day still young, I headed for Dunedin’s Lower Stuart Street. I was lucky to get there at all! At the very moment I was going to execute a textbook left turn into a street car park, some moron driving a Kia Sportage decided that this nanosecond would be a good time to have a brain explosion and forget how to drive! I showed my admiration at his lack of driving skills with a loud blast of the horn. This, he clearly appreciated as he cheerfully thanked me with a wave of one finger. Abandoning my car, I quickly tracked down the nearest coffee establishment. I had heard the Cafe Morning Magpie had ridiculously good coffee and that they were a must for those that love a good cup of joe. This was clearly going to be the place I needed to start my day. I instantly adored the place. It’s hard to not love a cafe that has upside down lampshades and ladders hanging from the ceiling, a deer’s head on the wall and kitchen staff that happily sing Daft Punk. I finished my coffee while taking in the art work of Josh Tyler Stent and Josh Kennedy on the walls before continuing up Lower Stuart Street. With 20 minutes to kill before the Art Gallery opened, I decided to wander past the Street Art of Bath Street and Moray Place before taking in Historic First Church. I’ve visited Dunedin’s First Church many times. I think it’s the links to Dunedin’s founding Scottish settlers I enjoy the most. I explored and admired the Gothic architecture, the stained glass windows and the tapestry for a while. It was then that I discovered that the Heritage Centre was closed. Slightly disappointed, I wandered around the grounds, suddenly noticing that the Art Gallery would be open. Taking one last look from the corner of the grounds, it’s hard to believe that the hill was lowered by nearly 12 meters with pick and shovel to create a raised platform with cliff faces on three sides for the church to sit on. Whoever convinced the newly settled citizens of Dùn Èideann (Dunedin) that such manual labour was a necessity must have been a hell of a motivator. With that thought, I left as it was time for Colin McCahon. John's Blog https://fromasmallcity.nz/ The latest print price guide: https://bit.ly/3oLw9OI
