Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College, Wellington, N.Z. Vol. 8, No. 7. June 13, 1945
Many years ago, there appeared in "Spike" an excellent photograph of the floodlit entrance of Victoria College, which, to the uninitiated, would be extremely impressive. But, to 'quote "Cappicade," tome eggs are very pretty—some are very bad!"—so let us enter through this impressive portal and see what there it inside.
On entering, we find ourselves in a gloomy hall with various pillars placed in the most inconvenient positions possible—in fact, the whole effect gives the impression of a scenario for All Baba's Cave.
As it is a rainy, miserable night, we seek the Men's Cloak Room. To do this, it is necessary to pass across the Cave, subconsciously noting as we go the pictures placed in the gloomiest and most draughty corners. We enter a small, cellar-like room which appears to be the stack-room of a patriotic sales drive, but we are mistaken again, it is the Cloak Room or, more correctly the Men's Robing Room, as a faded notice on the door states. On entering, we find that the only available space to store overcoats is the floor or the ceiling, so we choose the floor, this being more accessible. Let us recall a few details of the history of this room. We find that, although the number of students has been increasing year by year, it apparently has never occurred to the Powers That Be that there is a definite possibility of there being more overcoats stored in the College at 7 p.m. on the 1st June, 1945, than on the 1st June, 1913! But wait! Progress has been made—the outer door has been locked!
|(1)||It is more adequately lit.|
|(2)||It has apparently been painted since 1913.|
|(3)||You can at least turn around.|
|(4)||Seating accommodation is provided.|
The luxury of the surroundings made us curious as to how it came about. We found that the excellent lighting fittings would not be there had not the Students' Association paid for these—that the furniture would have been worn out had not the Students' Association had, them re-covered—that half the walls had been painted in a painful bottlegreen colour, the inmates of the room not being consulted, and would be the same colour now had not the Students' Association bought the enamel and provided student labour to repaint the offending wall. However, the room has Radiators That Work, although the designer considered that ventilation was entirely unnecessary.
This luxury is overpowering, so finally we decided to make our way up to the Library, having received our usual overdue book notice. On the way up we notice a pair of rather, well-panelled swing doors, and being of an inquisitive nature, we peep Inside. Maybe we are entering Wonderland, as Peter did. However, we are informed that this is Not For Students, so we retire to Wash Our Hands of the whole business. We finally arrive at a sumptuously tiled establishment lit by a lamp carefully placed so that it gives as little illumination as possible. This is amazing! All modern cons, at last! But we are wrong as usual. No Hot Water. We disconsolately make our way in search of a Tramping Club member to borrow a Primus, as it is a cold night. The wind whistles through the corridors and rattles the pictures in All Baba's Cave. There is no doubt that the Students are well catered for.—H.W.