A high rise building is not my comfort zone
from w
Sunday afternoon Peceli and I went up to Melbourne for a function at the Hilton South Wharf. Now being country born and bred in Swan Hill - on a flat plain, not a hill, I find high-rise buildings quite daunting. No grass, no trees, just wood and steel and glass and nineteen stories high, adjacent to that Conference Centre that I'd once visited for a World symposium on religions or some similar title. Well, the foyer was very very dark so that people sitting in expensive but comfortable chairs were just shadows. The Aboriginal artwork - though small - adorned one wall, and one strange artwork was made of kitchen scourers.
I decided I would walk up the stairs to our meeting room, but 'Oh no madam, your meeting is on the 16th floor. Take the lift.' Well, I absolutely freak out in lifts, but this time, just took one long deep breath and hung onto Peceli's arm. A gentleman in our group got the lift moving with an electronic key card and we went up, then down, then up again. Okay, I survived without a panic attack. Then we were in a long corridor was a lovely symmetrical design and a red carpet. From our meeting room the curtains were swished aside to reveal the view of Melbourne city towers and one little doll's house - the Mission to Seaman, heritage - so it can't be altered, but redundant as the ships no longer tie up in this vicinity. Once upon a time, my grandfather was mate on the Lock Torridon and perhaps came ashore here.The artwork at the Hilton occasionally makes reference to the shipping history - sort of - with rope artworks.
I missed the colour green, pot-plants, and human references. The scale of that foyer and the whole building just wasn't my scene at all. I still do not feel comfortable with high-rise nor lifts, so I"ll stick with my ground floor Californian Bungalow and wild garden even with the mud and rain.
Sunday afternoon Peceli and I went up to Melbourne for a function at the Hilton South Wharf. Now being country born and bred in Swan Hill - on a flat plain, not a hill, I find high-rise buildings quite daunting. No grass, no trees, just wood and steel and glass and nineteen stories high, adjacent to that Conference Centre that I'd once visited for a World symposium on religions or some similar title. Well, the foyer was very very dark so that people sitting in expensive but comfortable chairs were just shadows. The Aboriginal artwork - though small - adorned one wall, and one strange artwork was made of kitchen scourers.
I decided I would walk up the stairs to our meeting room, but 'Oh no madam, your meeting is on the 16th floor. Take the lift.' Well, I absolutely freak out in lifts, but this time, just took one long deep breath and hung onto Peceli's arm. A gentleman in our group got the lift moving with an electronic key card and we went up, then down, then up again. Okay, I survived without a panic attack. Then we were in a long corridor was a lovely symmetrical design and a red carpet. From our meeting room the curtains were swished aside to reveal the view of Melbourne city towers and one little doll's house - the Mission to Seaman, heritage - so it can't be altered, but redundant as the ships no longer tie up in this vicinity. Once upon a time, my grandfather was mate on the Lock Torridon and perhaps came ashore here.The artwork at the Hilton occasionally makes reference to the shipping history - sort of - with rope artworks.
I missed the colour green, pot-plants, and human references. The scale of that foyer and the whole building just wasn't my scene at all. I still do not feel comfortable with high-rise nor lifts, so I"ll stick with my ground floor Californian Bungalow and wild garden even with the mud and rain.
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