I’ve spent the last few days wandering aimlessly around some of Dunedin’s suburbs. I had stuck pretty close to home during the week and come Saturday morning I found myself in need of a decent stretch of the legs. So, the next few days were spent casually strolling through Dunedin streets with no real goal, no real purpose and no real direction apart from to make it back home again. I ambled down streets that were near empty and casually gazed into shop windows that were filled with novelty cups and t-shirts that were probably once a Christmas gift. There were restaurants, bookstores, furniture stores, car yards and bespoke gift shops, all of which were closed. I stopped outside a hairdresser and for a moment considered starting a new career as a hair model. I imagined myself on some far distant island, drenched in sunlight effortlessly flicking long locks of hair out of my eyes and over my shoulder like they do on the ads for one those TV programmes featuring celebrities I’ve never heard of. After a moment’s day dreaming I continued on my way occasionally stopping to photograph the empty roads, streets and avenues that I seemed to have all to myself. John's Blog https://fromasmallcity.nz/ The latest print price guide: https://bit.ly/3oLw9OI
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
