Dunedin

As a means of introduction to this entry I should point out that I am a bit of an old architecture fan, and since Dunedin has some of the greatest old buildings, there are lots of pictures of same. So, since most of you probably only view my pictures on the 2 inch screen on your phone anyway, they should be easy to scroll through!

After our exhilarating visit to Milton we jetted straight to Dunedin. The center of the universe here is the Octagon. As the name implies, it is an octagonal shaped plaza festooned with bars and shops and cafe's, et al. When we were shopping around online for the best place to stay I picked the 97 Motel Moray on Moray Place. Moray Place is an octagonal road that is displaced by about 2 blocks from the official "Octagon" and as such the closest accommodations to the Octagon. Thanks to google maps' street view you can "see" the place a bit before commiting. This is the view of the building used in the "online brochure". The actual main building is next door and does not have the same curb appeal.


It's a bit shabby looking and needs a bit of TLC but the rooms are cheap (about $80 USD) and the location can't be beat. It's not often that one gets pleasantly surprised. This is one of them. The room is one of the nicest we've been in and the staff are wonderful (listen to me sound like a Brit). They left a box of Christmas cookies and candy canes on our bed.

We set out on a brief foray afield, me doing my best Frankenstein walking impersonation and was immediately accosted by architectural eye-candy, to wit:

This stately building is actually a strip club

Soon it was time to crawl back to the room for another icing session. Here's a great tip for anyone needing ice bags but is annoyed by the fact that they melt: frozen peas. Built in form-fitting sealed container and reusable!

The next morning we headed down to the Octagon for breakfast.



We chose an Irish Pub. I selected this place mainly for the fact that it had black pudding and haggis on the menu. Haggis is a dish containing sheep's 'pluck' (heart, liver and lungs), minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally simmered in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours. So obviously you can see why I was eager to try it. This is traditionally a Scottish dish; not sure why it's served in an Irish pub.

I'm pretty sure that I still haven't had black pudding or haggis. When my breakfast came there were four miniature black hockey pucks, and something that looked like a slice of overcooked canned cat food. I had to use my knife on both in order to rip off a piece small enough to chew. Mmm, mmm, good.

Fer cryin' out load!

You can't turn the fracking thing off for even the length of a meal? We watched these two for our entire meal. Cynthia says she thinks she saw the old lady say something but isn't sure. As long as we were sitting there, neither took their face out of their phones. Sheesh...

Can't blame it all on the techies. These people ignored each other while texting too (receive only)


If sparrows/chickadees are flying mice, these must be flying rats


Looking down Stuart Street


Center of the Octagon


What are you lookin' at? Don't Santa wear shorts where yer from? Friggin' foreigners...


This is the Dunedin Railway Station. The most photographed building in NZ


This guy in the dress thought I was taking a picture of him. Guess he doesn't know how much I like chocolate


She understands things a lot better if you write them down for her


Old ticket window in the rail station

Ok, here's the story. Right next to the train station there was a big "farmer's" market (more like a rummage sale). This little guy was performing as a street musician. At this moment he's belting out Elvis' version of "blue Suede Shoes". I didn't have the heart to tell him that the only famous ukulele player I've ever heard of is Tiny Tim (some of you aren't old enough to get this).

Anyway, we exited the throng and as we were walking back past on the sidewalk I saw him getting the bum's rush. I guess he must have been performing without a license in the market. See, now the guy in the dress was smart enough not to do that.

This is about Dec. 23 and we are thinking about what we are going to do for a Christmas dinner since they almost roll the streets up (outside the Octagon) in the evening:

View looking south on Princes street (main road through the Octagon) 5 PM Saturday

View looking north on Princes street (main road through the Octagon) 5 PM Saturday

Kiwis take their holidays very seriously here. There is likely to be virtually nothing open on Christmas day. I ask around and am told that there are a few places that will be open. There are 4 cruise ships to be docked in the harbor. They are expecting about 5000 people in the CBD and nothing open. The local news paper polled businesses to find out which will be open and published a list. I could have counted them on two hands. The couple places that we found that were having a Christmas dinner (buffet) were a bit too festive for us ($109 per each) and/or fully booked. Instead we went out for a nice steak Christmas Eve and had left over Thai for Christmas.

Hint to guys: I was able to use my knee problem to get out of an art gallery outing.

The Chinese Garden

They have a beautiful Chinese garden here. Not sure why since the Chinese population is about 4500 out of 150,000. They pre-assembled this entire garden in China and shipped it over here. They had to sandblast all the rocks and sterilize everything before they could get it through Customs Bio-hazard section. Anyway...

What? You thought I wouldn't take pictures on the way?


Find Waldo


The ubiquitous New Zealand seagull

After the Chinese garden we headed generally in the direction of our room. We decided that we needed to stop and have a beer when I spotted a pub (they're so rare around here):

The Duke of Wellington: Purveyors of Fine Ales

We walked in and asked that they purvey to us some fine ale. All they had was British beer. The place was beautiful. And what was better, is we were the only customers!

When Cynthia was about 1/3 of the way through her fine ale she suddenly realized that she didn't have her day pack. The one that she usually carried our passports and US cash in. She got this deer-in-the-headlights look. I said "You better go find it, while I enjoy my fine ale" (knee trouble you know).

After she tears out the door I start talking to the proprietor and mention the day pack. He says that she'll get it back..."no problem. Maybe not in some other town, but this town...she'll get it back". A few minutes later she comes panting through the door with the pack on her back.

Some queen-looking person


Don't know who he is, but he looks drunk

While I stayed in to work on this blog Cynthia went for a long, long walk. She came back with these great pictures:

The next morning we got up and left town. The end.