—and all is change. Spring is here and today is bitter with driving rain.
There have been changes. Our beloved Pyramid is officially ‘earthquake prone’ so closed to the public. But we are allowed to hoof around the outside and may peer at the tuataras through the glass.
Our perky Living Treasures have resurfaced after the winter. (They never seem to move, but they look perky~!)
This used to be an absolute hive of activity, and even now still gets the odd uninformed tourist blinking at the “Hard luck! We’re shut!” notices on the locked doors. (Earthquake prone, you see.)
That wee observatory to the left was declared hazardous a year or two back. And now, the statue of Minerva—
—slated for removal also … renovation, they said. Each time I went to see if she’d gone, she hadn’t, but reprieves are temporary. Still, if I feel the need for company I can always hoof off to the vibrant heart of town—
—bearing in mind that the entire block (to our right as we peer up along Esk Street …) is due for the chop. Except for the gift-wrapped Kelvin Hotel at the end, and the facade of the former ‘Southland Times’ building, all to be removed and replaced with a new wonderfully modern shopping mall that will be the envied paradigm for malls everywhere.
Frankly I think that someone hasn’t done his homework; but thankfully I’m not a taxpayer in this town. But I do often use the library.
That too is undergoing ‘exciting new modernisation’ (now dribbling to a finish). We’ve lost the escalators (replaced with stairs) and the Children’s Section has been mixed in with adults.
I seized an opportunity at one point in the exciting new renovations and scored this exciting capture which shows the exciting new separated by a temporary space divider—
—old to the left, new to the right. I much preferred it as it was, kids isolated in their own world and we had escalators … but these days the sick, lame, or lazy can always use the lifts out of sight at the back.