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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