I definitely was not intending to post a photograph of a red fire engine – didn’t even cross my mind.
However three fire engines created some anxious minutes for me this morning.
I was in Auckland this weekend visiting my daughter. I chose to stay at a motel in Parnell, a pretty nice location for a weekend away. Great coffee only a few steps away, rose gardens over the road and a lovely view out over the city.
After a brisk early morning walk (with my camera of course) I jumped into the shower looking forward to breakfast and a fabulous cup of coffee to my day even more perfect.
I was standing in the tiny bathroom with one towel wrapped around my wet hair and another only just encircling my body when fire alarms broke the silence. At first I thought it was a mistake and they would stop. I was wrong … the loud piercing sound continued.
There was absolutely no way I was going to go down five flights of stairs in my tiny towels let alone stand outside on a busy street. So going against all we’ve been taught about respecting the urgency of fire alarms, I hastily climbed into my jeans, threw on a t-shirt, pulled on my boots (without tights), grabbed my handbag and raced down the stairs. I passed a lot of people in the stairway – most of them with suitcases – so wasn’t the last one out by any means.
And I was not the only guest to have been caught short – there were some really interesting ensembles, many featuring pajama pants.
People were exceptionally friendly conversing freely and laughing at our predicament. (I was still wearing my towelling turban.)
After about 15 minutes we were told the building was safe and we were free to get on with our day. It had been a false alarm.