![]() ![]() This crossing is the gateway to George Street’s one-way pedestrian zone a polarising move from our former mayor, Aaron Hawkins (miss u babe). Unfortunately, it’s a winter that would freeze the feathers off a brass duck. I’m picturing melted tar, jorts and jandals, and a top-tier spot to watch Dunedin’s Santa Parade (Te Waipounamu’s best summer entertainment). This crossing feels like it would slay in summer. Reality hits.Īllotted crossing time: 16 seconds (why is it different to its twin on the other side of the Octagon?) Pedestrian vibes: more like depress-trian… Overall rating: 2/10 People I left in the dust at the first crossing catch up to me. I start to feel stupid at this point: I haven’t even hit full acceleration because I’m constantly waiting at lights. I’ve only walked 270 metres, but I’m already having to press my third crossing button. Here’s where morale takes a real nosedive. The road is narrow here and I only need a three-second gap between cars to make it, so when the traffic gods are smiling on me, I’m able to glide right through with perfect timing.Īllotted crossing time: 15 seconds Pedestrian vibes: mentally cheers-ing to the freakin’ weekend Overall rating: 7.5/10 Morale is high as the day breaks (all photos by Molly Wootton) Crossing 3: Octagon/George Street It’s a beauty to behold in the early morning light, and you can feel the excitement building for a Friday post-work debrief in the lower Octagon’s bars. ![]() The Octagon greets me with dawn seagulls, Robbie Burns and the occasional bubble-bath water feature. The green man starts blipping, and our days begin.Īllotted crossing time: 18 seconds Pedestrian vibes: blindly positive Overall rating: 9/10 Crossing 2: Princes Street/OctagonĪfter maybe 20 seconds, I hit another Dance. ![]() The right-turn arrow turns green, orange, red. I feel my fellow pedestrians hold their breath. The traffic stops to make way for the traffic flowing in my direction, and the suspense builds. There’s a glorious sunrise reflecting off our heritage buildings, making the sandstone details glow. I take a moment to relish the corporate girlie™ dream I’m living, smiling at fellow commuters, flashing a wink at bus drivers, and nodding to the boy – now a man with a full-blown beard – with whom I went to school. It’s the first one I hit after I leave my flat, so morale is always high. This is far and away my favourite crossing. Instead, I have no option but to wait my turn to cross – and to mull over the merits of each of the Dances. I could be watching grass grow or paint dry. I could be first in the office, with a smug grin. I could be solving the world’s great issues. My 2.1km walk to work sees me crossing a whopping nine of these things, and the time spent waiting for the free-for-all green light is excruciating. Popularised by American traffic engineer Henry Barnes, a Barnes Dance (or scramble crossing) allows pedestrians to cross in any direction, including diagonally, when the green man lights up. Ōtepoti cosy, small-town vibe had been replaced by a big-city-living, skyscraper-filled metropolis, and as part of the revamp, Barnes Dance crossings are popping up throughout the city centre. Upon the return to my hometown of Dunedin, there was one glaring change to the quaint town I had once known. Molly Wootton, an executive assistant working in the CBD, gives us the vibe check for each of them. Ōtepoti has an absurd number of scramble crossings. ![]()
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