A Grey Day
A Funny Old Day for Tourism
Well, overnight was our worst yet for
weather. Squalls and rain, squalls and sleet, squalls and hail. Mable rocked and
bucked a bit but the noise was in quad sound, roof, windows, windscreen and of
course the gentle snoring of my roommate. This morning was so dark and grey
there was only one thing for it. Bear did not disappoint, fantastic egg event with back up.
We received an email
from Robt and Rho. A very warm welcome to these new readers joining the
Barmy Army Reading the
BlogS. What a great start to the day, bringing
us a little sunshine as they said we were now honourary Kiwi’s, fantastic. It’s
always lovely to hear from anyone on pepemillard {CHANGE TO AT} hotmail {DOT} co {DOT} uk we reply
asap, but, sometimes not as quickly when at sea or out of wi-fi
range.
The weather was not going to change
so after dismissing things of a standard tourist nature we settled on our daily
bimble being in The Warehouse. Off we went, we really
know how to pull out all the stops. A pair of
pretend crocs for four pounds and a set of three stainless saucepans, a frying
pan and casserole pan all with glass lids for thirty four pounds, a few other
bits and the complete floor space bimbled. What next. I’ll buy you late lunch in KFC. You know how to spoil
a girl.......
Later the skies cleared just enough
for us to drive to the Water Tower, but, very brief
was our stop as the wind was so biting.
We could see the signs of wear and
tear on this noble old lady, cracks when we got up
close. Wherever you drive in the centre of the city you can see the top of the
tower, so very iconic. Sadly, closed until safety works and renovation has been
carried out, we had hoped to climb to the top on Sunday as the tour guides
suggest.
The
Waterworks.
Fire always threatened colonial towns, where the mix of wooden buildings and dry summer spells could be an explosive combination. Local authorities struggled to supply adequate amounts of pressurised water and 19th-century New Zealand suffered many great fires. In the late 1880’s the Invercargill Borough Council decided to build a water tower on part of the green belt. Ratepayers wanted the tower but not on the town belt, so architect-engineer William Sharp suggested blunting criticism by disguising the 300,000-litre steel tank with an elaborate brick tower. There were still a few ‘croakers’, but not enough to stop the foundation-laying ceremony on the 18th of December 1888. Twelve months’ work and 200,000 common bricks, 80,000 red pressed bricks, 15,000 yellow pressed bricks & 4,000 pressed black bricks gave Invercargill a 131-foot-high tower is topped with a water tank that holds 78,459 gallons. The cupola was dismantled in 1934 but recreated in replica in 1989 - with the assistance of NZ Aluminium Smelters, when the polychromatic brickwork was restored, taking the old tower into its second century.
Opposite we could see the fountains of Queens Park and the sign for the information Centre. In we turned.
Passing Burt Munro who has a splendid statue here.
The World’s Fastest Indian is a popular hero of the city.
Another downpour as we sat outside the gates to Queens Park.
The Museum with a statue of a Tuatara. We made a stop at the museum and I
nipped in to find out about opening times. A gust of wind came through the doors
and crashed things about. The lady warned me there are severe weather warnings
and road closures in our next planned stopover. We’ll stay put for a few days
then and keep an eye on the forecast.
Today. Four point seven degrees feels like zero in the freezing thirty mile an hour wind. The weatherman said four layers of clothing and one windproof layer. Tonight. Showers with hail, risk squally thunder, with gusts to fifty miles an hour. Overnight. Zero. Squalls. Tomorrow. Showers wintry at first, south-westerly gusts to sixty miles an hour. Perhaps a day in catching up on blogs then. ALL IN ALL PLEASED TO BE SNUG
IN MABLE
BEST HUNKERED
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