a challenge cannot possibly get much more personal than this~? But taking it in the spirit offered: my qualifier is simply that anywhere I’m pouncing with lenses blazing, I’m happy.
HAPPY TO BE
taking the shot. Sometimes where I am or what I’m shooting de-happifies me a bit (or rarely, a lot).
in some parts of town I tend not to linger. I make damned sure I don’t even inadvertently be seen snapping by the locals. Yet all the locals I’ve exchanged pleasantries with have been entirely nothing but pleasant.
Anyway, here’s yer snaps—
The native name for a form of abalone is paua. Lots of people snorkel-dive for them, you need a wee net bag and something to measure them for compliance with Gods know how many laws, rules, regulations, and other things that most immigrants totally ignore.
The best thing is to dive down and sneak up on them whilst they’re asleep—if you miss your first grab, ferggedaboudit. They clamp onto their rock and dynamite won’t shift ’em. My own method was to swim down and quickly slip a wide flat blade under them, so they clamp onto the blade instead. Anyway, I was hoofing past this wall and thought “Ya gotta give credit where it’s due—and here’s someone making a memorial of his dinners past.” Click.
PROGRESS IS WHEN
your product is so good you can improve your premises. This guy/guyette has obviously done well—
—and I would have sampled but was in a wee bit of a hurry. Moving on …
A REDUNDANT CHURCH
that I snapped and posted on once before. At that time it was a rapidly decaying wreck, windows a challenge to every passing lout with a brick, or a bottle needing a target—
—but happier days for it now: a wee engineering firm is in there, apparently using it as a headquarters/base and they’ve fixed it up well. (Win/win all round, I think.)
I hoofed on by to-and-through a little park with prime examples of ingenuity on a low budget. And a challenge for silly old poops with cameras …
The tractor is old tyres and the WW2 Mosquito is fenceposts. I love ’em~! Almost as much as what can only be a motorbike parked alongside a Loch Ness monster (or being kiwi, perhaps a taniwha)—
And then I saw it—
THIS was the Challenge for old poops!
What I discovered in the course of my endeavours to reach the summit was that it was built only with ankle-biters in mind, not silly old goats. Bugger!
The hatches were all mini-size and the rungs on internal laddery so close together I had to use my arms and leverage to haul up. But it was worth it for the view back the way I’d just come …
THEN AFTER HERE
I entered South City itself to check out the shopping area post their recent overhaul. They’ve done a good job … and on the way back to town itself to meet The Spouse for a java at our favourite place, I snapped the good ol’ ever faithful St Mary’s Basilisk—
—and ponder again how come New Zealanders get ‘saynt’ out saint, whilst so many Brits say ‘sint’—? One of life’s toughies, I tells ya (and I use ‘saynt’ myself too).(But only when The Spouse isn’t within earshot*.)
AFTER WHICH WE
had our coffee. I recommend this establishment if you are ever in Invercargill—proprietor is a German from Austria, and it shows in the quality of his goodies, superb. But his coffee is easily the best we’ve sampled in town—
—or he could be an Austrian from Germany, my geography is a bit rusty. (His son’s wife is a Spanish speaking bilingual cutie from Colombia or somewhere, which adds to the flavour and certainly helped a whole heap when a herd of monolingual South American motor-cycle tourists came through recently.)
Happy Place? Answer: anywhere with a camera, or Global Bytes with a coffee.
End of story …
- She’s a bit chauvinistic about the lingo. Me? I just yap …