Thursday 3 July 2014

"I don't think it will be

very much work and it shouldn't be difficult," my friend told me. I am sure she really believed that too. I thought otherwise.
Yesterday I had to go into the delightfully named "central business district" or "CBD". I avoid this if I can. I like the side which contains the museums, the art gallery, the state's main library, the state's oldest university and other assorted buildings. They are all in a long line along one of side of the square mile which comprises the main CBD.
It is what is inside the CBD that I like rather less. It was filled with what might be best described as "footpath works and obstacles".
With some difficulty I detoured past the first one by wheeling my tricycle off the footpath and on to the roadway into the oncoming traffic and then up on to the footpath again.  I then realised that another sixty to seventy metres down the way there was another obstacle. Could I get past? No.
There was someone on a gopher coming from the other direction. Of course there was no workman in sight. We shrugged and the gopher user did a smart U-turn. I backed and did a less smart U-turn because there was now one of those double baby stroller affairs behind me.
I went around the block and then found the street I had planned to go up was completely blocked off with fencing and notices about "demolition". I did not want to be demolished. I did another long detour. 
I reached the street I needed to visit and approached it from the other end with extreme caution because there were yet more footpath works. At least this time one of the workmen saw my predicament and said, "Hold on.." and moved the pole holding the bright orange "fencing" out of the way.  
I reached the office I had to visit and - a miracle - there was a bicycle park outside. I locked the trusty tricycle to it and went in.
"You didn't ride here?" the receptionist asked me.
"Yes."
"With all that's going on out there?"
The noise of the pneumatic drill being used on the other side of the road could be heard all too loudly as the automatic doors slid open again.
I did the business I had come to do and contemplated how best to return to the railway station. I did another detour and, apart from one small obstacle reached the station without incident although it meant walking the tricycle through a shopping precinct.
I sat on the train thinking of the peace and quiet of the suburbs - and arrived at my local railway station to be greeted by the sight of workmen putting up yet more orange safety fencing.
"Hello matey - want to get through?" they asked.
Yes please!

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