Before Min Sarginson claimed the cliffs
There were views of Lyttleton Harbour and blue gums swayed in the breeze, subtly givin off perfumes like ya grandmother used to.
From the top of the rotting old macrocarpa  sitting by the balcony, waiting for the kids to enter the dark, dank insides, frightened of spooky possums and spiders, you could see the shops, and the hotel waiting patiently for passers-by yearning for toilets and ice-cream. The sea always shone a thousand diamonds right into ya retinas, partially blinding you as you gazed from Governor's to Godley. Now you can see who's keeping up with Jones' and who cares more for energy efficiency, slanted roofs, succulent gardens and solar panels are now the view from my grandfather's bach.