05 March 2011

48-50 Evans Street, Moonee Ponds, VIC, Australia

Moonee Ponds is probably my favourite suburb around here. It's brimming with beautiful Victorian-era houses, colourful gardens and friendly neighbourhood cats.  We usually walk there from our place, for all the aforementioned reasons. On this walk, we cross Citylink (using a footbridge that is far less creepy than this one). As we cross, we first see a nice panorama of rooftops belonging to lovely old places. Then, we see this.
Glorious iron desert, stretching on for miles. Note real houses in the background.
This thing is unforgivable. In the world of Walshe and Whitelock turds, this is the biggest, most steamy turd of them all, and we have to smell it every time we walk to Moonee Ponds. Gloriously situated next to the massive sound barrier alongside Citylink, it is a truly depressing place to live. The block is huge - there are at least 15 apartments in it, probably more. It ticks all the wrong boxes - no roof, awful brickwork, tiny windows and from what I've seen through the tiny windows, dank rooms that look as if they haven't been decorated since 1962. Some residents will be lucky enough to have a glimpse of the Moonee Ponds Creek through their tiny windows. The worst thing is that the agent is probably charging hundreds of dollars per month for this shitbox, ripping off innocent international students and old people who can't afford anything nicer.

Tiny windows, but all they have to see is a huge sound barrier.
What drugs are these developers on?! They could have at least built many small units. That wouldn't have been so horribly confronting. Perhaps - and I know this is an absolutely insane proposal - they could have actually given this place a roof and some features which aren't horrible. But no, this edifice takes up a massive lot and everybody in the surrounding streets has to look at it every day. If I had the misfortune to live here, I'd tint the windows of my car so no-one would see me as I left or came home. Nobody should be ashamed of their place, but in this case I can't see how you'd be anything but mortified.
The turd in all its glory.
This thing is so big that it can probably be seen from space. From above, it puts me strongly in mind of a factory, or perhaps a prison. I feel sorry for the poor cyclists who ride over Citylink on the Hope Street bridge, spot this and fall off their bikes in horror. At least as a pedestrian I can prepare myself for what's coming.
Panoramic views of footbridge and sound barrier!
I know it's pretty hard to polish a turd, but they could have at least tried. Shame on you, 1960s developers, shame on you. I hope that when you die, your hell is a never-ending maze of huge soulless brick apartments, and I hope that the residents of this place come to haunt you with awful corrugated iron roofs and monotonous brickwork and entranceways with a whiff of urine about them.

I think the lawn needs a mow, too. I like the bush covering the window.
One slightly redeeming feature? At least they made an attempt at putting eaves over the upper windows. At least it breaks the monotony a tiny little bit. But that still doesn't raise the rating of this place. Sorry.

Rating: Cellar floor

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