Magic Mountain
Memorably described as ‘a giant dinosaur turd’, Magic Mountain stands on the foreshore at Glenelg as a monument to the need for councillors to put their glasses on before considering planning applications.
Adelaide’s aesthetes have been begging for it to be pulled down ever since it was erected. The fibreglass ‘mountain’ features waterslides and other amusements for those bored with the natural charms of one of the city’s finest beaches. [HV]
Marion Shopping Centre
In the mid 1960’s, as vineyards were being ripped out of Oaklands park and Seaview and being replaced with houses, a new shopping centre took shape in the Marion area.At first, this centre comprised a Myer, a John Martins and a small mall connecting the two of them which provided two dozen or so specialty shops, including Pinnochio’s coffee shop. It was nestled into a corner of a triangle bounded by Sturt, Morphett and Diagonal roads, with housing and a primary school contained within the triangle. The triangle of land was earmarked for greatness, as it was to be one of the transport hubs that was to be the Metropolitan Adelaide Transport System, which was really only 1960’s vernacular for “Freeway Systems”.
In the mid 1970’s, as the popularity of the shopping centre increased, the Myer and John Martins stores were extended ever so slightly at the edges and some of the housing on the fringer of the centre was bought and turned into carparks. Ownership of the centre was split between several owners, including the South Australian State Government Superannuation scheme and a small Eastern States company called Westfield. Pinnochio’s coffee shop was relocated a little bit but was still in business.
In the mid 1980’s, Westfield assumed full ownership of the centre and embarked on a massive upgrade, buying out the remaining houses in the triangle, arranging to have the primary school closed and building both upwards with an office tower and outwards, with a new mall perpendicular to the original. Pinnochios coffee shop flourished with the increase in business.
In the mid 1990’s, Westfield extended the centre yet again, doubling the under cover space by installing a second storey on the entire mall and doubling its length, making it dog-leg in the middle to stop it from continuing out onto Sturt Road. Pinnochios continued to serve good value tea and coffee, along with cakes and light meals.
Now as we approach the mid 2000’s, the only remaining free space in the triangle is a rather small parcel of land earmarked for a new aquatic centre. Westfield Marion boasts hundreds of shops and a cinema complex with more screens than any other in the southern hemisphere, along with more car parks than one thinks could ever be filled but always seem to be chockers every day of the week. Inside the malls, the shops represented are the same as at any other Westfield anywhere in Australia and are, in the majority, large chain stores that have obviously done deals with Westfield to be slotted into their “Cookie Cutter” shopping centre model…
Bakers’ Delight on the left, Smokemart on the right, Lenards Chicken straight on down, MacDonalds just beyond…
But there is still Pinocchios, serving great tea, coffee and light meals, on the ground floor, just down from David Jones. [CL]
Mainies
‘Doing a mainey’ is something that young people in South Australian country towns do. It is a symptom of sensory deprivation really. It is just like mice in a cage that go round and round on a wheel continuously because there is nothing else to entertain them in there.Essentially a mainey involves driving up and down the main drag of the town constantly in a car. In Mount Gambier, the classic circuit was from the corner of Commercial Street and Crouch Street to the corner of Commercial Street and Wehl Street. Up and back, up and back and again and again and again, until the availability of petrol to get home became a concern. When the petrol gauge looks sad, the next step is to pull over in the main street and stare at everyone else doing mainies. It’s terribly interesting. [JG]
Mall’s Balls
Was the decision made to place two giant silver balls in Rundle Mall for reasons of euphony? ‘The Mall’s cubes? No. How about the Mall’s pyramids? No. I’ve got it! The Mall’s balls!’
The public sculpture, with one ball balanced on top of the other, quickly became the favoured meeting place in Adelaide’s central shopping precinct, probably because people enjoyed saying, ‘I’ll meet you at the Mall’s balls.’
Feeble jokes were spawned, along the lines of ‘What’s long and has two balls? Rundle Mall.’ The sculpture was also fondly known as ‘Donnie Dunstan’s balls,’ in honour of the premier responsible for the mall and much, much more. [HV]
Monash Playground
Monash Playground in the Riverland was an adventure playground in the true sense of the word. Adventures you could have there included breaking limbs, having teeth knocked out and dying. But hell, it was fun.The playground, with its enormous slippery dips, bizarre swings and equipment never seen anywhere before or since, was built by a brilliant local engineer called Grant Telfer as a gift to the region. The local council eventually realised that it was just a matter of time before they had the pants sued off them, and closed the playground till they could get insurance for it.
State opposition leader Dean Brown promised that if he was elected, his government would insure the playground. But election promises were made to be broken, and in the end, the old equipment was ripped out and a new, safer playground erected in its place, disappointing thrill-seekers and lawyers statewide. [HV]
Multi-Function Polis
We had visions of The Jetsons dancing in our heads back in the ’80s when Adelaide was announced as the site for the Multi-Function Polis, a high-tech Japanese-style city of the future.‘See?’ we crowed in triumph behind our great and wise Premier Bannon. ‘Adelaide isn’t just some little backwater. We’re leading Australia into the future!’
We patiently watched the chosen area of swampland, waiting for the tall silvery towers of the MFP to materialise before our eyes. After a while we were told that it wouldn’t be a city, as such—more like increased technological development taking place within Adelaide. Gradually people stopped talking about it altogether.
Its lasting legacy was just one joke: what do you call a bisexual policeman? A multi-function polis. It wasn’t even a good joke. [HV]