It rained yesterday.
What’s more the rain came in at an unnatural angle, driven by winds gusting from the North at up to 135 km/h. In the afternoon, it eased a bit. The South coast was disappointing, in that the water was just beaten flat by the wind. In Evans Bay, vicious sheets of spray were whipping across the surface, but really, no photograph revealed itself to me. The light was getting dimmer by the minute, and as I was approaching the CBD, it occurred to me that the city itself might repay a visit. I began at the intersection of Taranaki Street with Manners St, Dixon Street and Courtenay Place.
Despite it being just after four in the afternoon, many of the bars and restaurants were doing a brisk trade, and would almost certainly continue to do so for at least another twelve hours. I was a bit surprised to be accosted someone touting for one of the strip clubs on Courtenay Place. I would have thought that touting was illegal in Wellington. I was disturbed to be singled out as a potential customer for such a business. On the other hand, I suppose an unfashionably dressed older man wandering the city alone, with a camera, might well fit a stereotype. For the record, I declined the invitation.
Back at the corner where I started, I looked along Manners St, across Pigeon park to the opera House. Behind it, the Majestic Centre maintains its standing as Wellington’s tallest building.
From there the quickest way home was up Dixon St and McDonald’s Crescent onto The Terrace, heading for the motorway. I liked the light and the architectural textures on The Terrace.
Crossing the bridge over the motorway, the gully which brings SH1 into town looked interesting. When I came to Wellington in 1966 to learn to become a programmer, that building just to the right of the nearest light pole was the tallest building on The Terrace. Old wooden houses were still plentiful, but there were a lot of building sites. And now the sun is shining, and the wind is winding up again to “severe gale”.
Who knows what today will bring?