Imagine a world where 80% of the population has died or vanished.  After the looting and orgies, society would inevitably carry on.  A group of survivors decide to create a realistic downtown theme park, a homage to how things were before the Event.  Realistic storefronts are created to give the illusion of a vibrant city, but they are never actually open.  This includes restaurants, also mostly closed, except for a few you can eat at, a taste … if you will … of what life was like before.  Empty city buses and taxies drive aimlessly around.  Crosswalks chirp and blink, though, without any traffic they all look ridiculous.  Their sounds echo throughout the empty canyons created by the moderately tall, unoccupied buildings.  Since only 1.6 billion people are left on the planet, this theme park is very lonely.  You rarely encounter anyone else.  So while you remember and are surrounded by the environment of life before, the emptiness still pulls at your soul.  

Let’s call this theme park, Wellington. 

Perhaps I exaggerate.  Still, RBD and I can’t shake the feeling everyone except us and our Seikh concierge are gone from the planet. 

Wellington has a population of roughly half a million people.  It’s also the capital of New Zealand, and I don’t need Wikipedia to tell me it’s the windiest city in the world.  Wind here is omnipresent, a near constant companion when outdoors.  Several Kiwis have mentioned it also being the southern most capital in the world, a point of pride.  Certainly a point of uniqueness.   

As for where those half million people presently are, I can only guess on holiday someplace warm and exotic.  We’re staying at the Sofitel, and when booking I wondered why the rates were so low.  Come to find out, with the government off, nothing around here is open till the 8th of January.  Great for workers, bad for hungry tourists.  Where we are, an area called The Terrace, nobody lives.  

Like everything in New Zealand, Wellington owes much of its geography to seismic forces.  A massive fault runs just behind our hotel along Highway 1.  It’s a nasty one, too,  a strike-slip fault like the one which caused the Christmas Day Tsunami.  Evidence of its machinations are all around.  Lambton Quay not so long ago used to be shore front property, but is now several blocks inland.  In 1855 a massive earthquake pushed everything up.  They renamed it to Lambton Quay from, and I’m not making this up, Beach Street.    

Now you have the waterfront area, above that Lambton Quay, above that The Terrace, above that the Botanical Gardens, and so it goes a few more levels.  These level changes resemble large steps created by drastic and (geologically) sudden movements.  Inclines are punishingly steep. 

I’ve taken a Google map of our hood, and roughly drawn in the elevation changes.  Roughly.  

After the 1855 quake, enough of a shelf was created to allow for the construction of a highway and train line northwards.  We’ll be traveling on that tomorrow.

We started the day at The Weta Cave, the folks responsible for Lord of the Rings.  They’ve been around longer than that.  Some of their earlier work was on The Frighteners, with Michael J. Fox.  

We stopped by Victoria Lookout for some fantastic, albeit wind blown, views. I don’t think I have ever experienced so much wind.

Finally we moved to the War Memorial, which had an exhibit on World War 1.  

Again, the exhibit was very beautifully and respectfully done.  Here people treat these weapons of mass casualty with a different sense than back home.  The U.S. has such a childlike approach to them, a sort of giddy, “look what I can do” awe.  Here, not so much.  These tools of warfare are more reverently viewed.   

Also on display was the entire battlefield in miniature, topography and all.  A massive undertaking, it must have taken months to build fully. 

The scene did not spare any of the gruesome details, which were plenty.  Conditions on the battlefield were abhorrent.  Illness was common. 

Found more arts.  This time, directional art.  This tiled arrow is pointing towards Antartica, which is not visible in this picture.  

Below is an example of poop art, or art you use the bathroom in.  The vents are the two black voids coming from the “tail.” Like when you … never mind. Use your imagination.

The company may change, but just minor alterations on the signage is all that’s needed.  Nothing a satellite dish can’t cover up. 

A correction from yesterday, turns out Licensed Chinese Restaurant means it can serve alcohol.  As in a liquor license.  I feel there are many other ways to say that more clearly.  My Kiwi friend Pete set me straight.  He also worked in the Beehive during his tenure advising Prime Ministers on education.  He did not have kind things to say about it.  With the rooms all wedge shaped, special furniture is needed.  It’s apparently a pain.