Tuesday, 19 February 2008

M = Marina

I parked under a Norfolk pine in Oriental Bay earlier this morning, and set off. The weather was so beautiful I decided my morning work-out would be a walk around the harbour. The air was still, the water was flat, reflecting the buildings from the city, softly lapping the shore. Usually I walk away from the city, around the bays, but today I chose to walk in the opposite direction.

So I joined the dozens of regular morning walkers heading into the city. The girl with her uncomfortable looking shoes setting such a smart pace it took me a while to overtake her; the man in his business suit, jacket left at home today; the obese young man taking what I like to think were the first steps of a new lifestyle; the woman in her silky top, pretty skirt and trainers, carrying her business shoes, to name only a few. We dodged those on their bicycles, the odd skateboarder zoomed past us, and I watched amused at the middle-aged man racing past on a kick scooter, reliving his youth or trying hard to hold onto what is left of it.

As we neared the city, the numbers dispersed into their shops and offices. I stuck to the seafront, and walked past the boathouses and the yacht club. There’s a good seafood restaurant there, right on the edge of the small marina. We like to eat there at least once every summer, taking advantage of daylight saving and watching the activity in the marina. The yachts coming back in after an evening sail, the people doing maintenance on their boats, or sitting having a drink with friends. The stillness as the evening fades, the sun setting and the masts casting long shadows. The masts were casting their shadows in the opposite direction this morning, but it still had that still tranquil atmosphere you only get early and late, it gets burned away by the midday sun, drowned out by all those normal daytime activities.

Further around there are apartments fronting another marina. Living here would feel like being on holiday every day. I would need to win the lottery to afford it though. The cafes at the bottom of the building looked like the perfect spot for a relaxed coffee and newspaper or a good book. I think I’ll go there tomorrow morning.

And I’ll buy a lottery ticket too.


  1. Wow, perfect exercise!
    I do the same, a walk by the bay, I mean.
    And tho there are no yachts and boats to watch,I love walking under the trees and having a glass of sugarcane juice afterwards!

  2. But then all your neighbours would be the kind of people who live at marinas and didn't come by their money through honest chance: I'm thinking drug dealers, lawyers, footy players,tv personalities that sort of thing: not that I'm biased or anything.
    We watched the glorious'Whale Rider' on Saturday, and there was a big article in the weekend mag about the so called Maori 'terrorists' and the keystone cops antics surrounding them.Plus of course I have watched lots of John Clarke over the years (in fact he once asked me for a light at a Flann O'Brien celebration at the Celtic Club) So i feel up to speed and able to generalise about your social hierarchy :)

  3. dg: Your walk sounds great too.

    Mrs S: Very impressive. You're practically an honourable kiwi with that - you've certainly elevated yourself above most aussies who seem to claim John Clarke as one of their own. Of course, he's still better known here as Fred Dagg. Heard this? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7X2b2x7Fw4o&feature=related

  4. Maybe we should all go in on a group lottery ticket. I'm willing to chance living with people who have acquired their money illegitimately. Especially if there's a good cafe nearby.

  5. I am sitting by the photo, hoping to soak up some sun...

    I need to feel warm [outdoor] air on my skin!

  6. Again, I'm with IB. IT's 13 degrees today here in Sunny St. Louis. I want a marina.

  7. It's more the fact they are all dead common: not like wot I am.

  8. If we get enough of us living there and on the condo board we can vote to evict all the riff-raff.

  9. Like your style Helen!
    I had breakfast there this morning. I watched the people walk to work, the harbour was still, I read my paper and sipped my coffee and ate my bagel, and thought "if I lived here I could do this every morning." I'll try and post the photo I took on my phone.

    The people in the tables next to me may have been lawyers, didn't look like drug dealers (whatever they look like) and weren't footy (rugby in NZ) players or tv celebrities, so maybe there's still hope for us?

  10. The drug dealer who used to live across the street looked like Gilligan. So I would be on the lookout for anyone who looks like the Professor, the Millionaire, Mrs. Howell, Mary Ann, Ginger or the Skipper.


Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.