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Poised on stilts over the water at the edge of Wellington harbour, this wee boathouse is the most cheerful in a row of them, between Balleana Bay and Greta Point. Snapped on the iphone (hence the grainy-ness) as I jogged past in the late afternoon sun.

Wouldn’t life always be that little bit more interesting if you lived here, at the mercy of the elements, sheltered by your scarlet tin roof and royal-purple weatherboards?


  1. And no lawns to mow or gardens to weed.

  2. The taxi went that way to the airport today and I tried to keep a look out for this particular boathouse but missed it!

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