I guess every country has a shameful past to a certain extent.
Not far from where I live is this door in a cliff.
It may look cute, but it is widely believed that it is where Maori war prisoners from sometime the 19th century were kept. Behind that door is a dark and rudimentary cave where it is reported they slept at night. During the day they were made to work on the stone walls that are such a feature of the Otago Peninsula,
and on the roads around the harbour. Some of these men were taken far away from their wives and families in the North Island and shipped to the South Island, simply because they made a peaceful protest and refused to move when their pa (fortified village) was invaded.
This memorial was erected in memory of those who died and never returned to their families.
On Tuesday night we went to an exhibition at the Blue Oyster Gallery. The whole space has been transformed into a bright splash of colour made up of thousands of small paintings contributed by over 200 artists here in Dunedin. One of the artists is Son M. The paintings are unnamed, but we could easily pick out all of M's paintings.
The space is a basement that has arched stone walls and a labyrinth-like atmosphere. There were so many people there that I got quite claustrophobic, and as visions of what would happen if there was a fire leapt to mind, I made my way nearer the door.
As you can see from this photo taken on Sunday, last week's snow still remained on the hill suburbs. However, it has now largely disappeared. The building in the foreground is the Dunedin railway station, taken from the business end.
This winter is a particularly hard one. Temperatures are dropping to minus 10 degrees celsius at night. Some people have had burst water pipes flooding their houses. It is certainly hard to get out of bed these cold mornings.
Today at the pre-school we made honey water for the birds and discussed how ice is formed.
Last night was a treat, I had dinner with two families I used to be nanny for. The restaurant where we all met up for dinner is called 'Pumpernickles'. However, three-year old JD prefers to call it 'Pumperknickers'.