I used to live in a rickety flat that had a single old creaky staircase to get up to the front door, and a little grassy terrace area. Only I really ever used the grassy bit. The stairs had a pohutakawa tree growing essentially right through them, making walking up or down them hazardous. Especially when drunk.
I would not classify that period of my life to be “happy” by any stretch, but that tree signified being “home.” It was like the guardian to my space. A physical barrier between me and the shitshow that was the rest of the world at that time. An almost literal gatekeeper (many people were too scared to walk up the stairs lol)
Added bonus, year end holidays, and the height of summer were vividly and brightly different thanks to the red needles they drop everywhere around that time.
It wasn’t until the landlord told me he was planning to have it cut down, and I had an almost physical reaction that I realized how much I loved that tree. I managed to convince him not to have it cut down until after I’d left.
Both the tree and the flat are now gone. A multi million dollar new build is there now.
So am I honestly, but to be fair, that place was a dump.
The foundations were subsiding, so the whole flat was on a pretty significant lean. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was easily 5 degrees off level. Think Lilly and Marshall’s apartment in HIMYM.
The building itself was 3 stories. I was on 2nd, and the 3rd was completely uninhabitable due to the roof being swiss cheese. I knew I was about to get kicked out when the ceiling started leaking in my bedroom whenever it rained.
I could go on and on. The electrics were sketchy, my toilet leaked into the downstairs kitchen, etc etc etc. It really was trash, and would have probably cost millions to repair.
The tree itself was causing structural issues as well. It’s hard to explain, so I’ve attached an aerial view. (You might need to view it on my instance.) The grey line was a concrete retaining wall for the grassy terrace thing. You can see that the tree was right up against the house, further damaging it. I’ve also tried to illustrate what it was doing to the stairs so you can get an idea of what it was like.
All in all, I understand why it had to go, but it still makes me sad. And not just because the flat was so cheap I could afford to live by myself in my 20s, 5 minutes from the CBD
I used to live in a rickety flat that had a single old creaky staircase to get up to the front door, and a little grassy terrace area. Only I really ever used the grassy bit. The stairs had a pohutakawa tree growing essentially right through them, making walking up or down them hazardous. Especially when drunk.
I would not classify that period of my life to be “happy” by any stretch, but that tree signified being “home.” It was like the guardian to my space. A physical barrier between me and the shitshow that was the rest of the world at that time. An almost literal gatekeeper (many people were too scared to walk up the stairs lol)
Added bonus, year end holidays, and the height of summer were vividly and brightly different thanks to the red needles they drop everywhere around that time.
It wasn’t until the landlord told me he was planning to have it cut down, and I had an almost physical reaction that I realized how much I loved that tree. I managed to convince him not to have it cut down until after I’d left.
Both the tree and the flat are now gone. A multi million dollar new build is there now.
I’ve read 500 page novels that have touched me less than these 5 paragraphs.
Thank you for sharing this story.
SO PISSED AT THIS. God the company men…
So am I honestly, but to be fair, that place was a dump.
The foundations were subsiding, so the whole flat was on a pretty significant lean. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was easily 5 degrees off level. Think Lilly and Marshall’s apartment in HIMYM.
The building itself was 3 stories. I was on 2nd, and the 3rd was completely uninhabitable due to the roof being swiss cheese. I knew I was about to get kicked out when the ceiling started leaking in my bedroom whenever it rained.
I could go on and on. The electrics were sketchy, my toilet leaked into the downstairs kitchen, etc etc etc. It really was trash, and would have probably cost millions to repair.
The tree itself was causing structural issues as well. It’s hard to explain, so I’ve attached an aerial view. (You might need to view it on my instance.) The grey line was a concrete retaining wall for the grassy terrace thing. You can see that the tree was right up against the house, further damaging it. I’ve also tried to illustrate what it was doing to the stairs so you can get an idea of what it was like.
All in all, I understand why it had to go, but it still makes me sad. And not just because the flat was so cheap I could afford to live by myself in my 20s, 5 minutes from the CBD