In the vain hope that, over the last few months, things may have improved in Rotorua, I spent a couple of hours on Tuesday, October 27 wandering around the CBD but my hope was in vain.
A chap with a hat walking around with a pit bull off the lead, another pushing a supermarket trolley with heaven-knows-what inside it (he and his mate swearing and banging the overhead shop signs), empty shops gathering graffiti and leaves and rubbish on their fronts, youths generally making life unpleasant for shoppers as they could, several police cars chasing around the town - fast, and yet not one policeman on foot where they should have been.
Yes, Rotorua attracts visitors - the Luge, the Redwoods, and the host of other places but not, obviously, in the town centre. Little wonder we have so many empty shops.
If I did not live here, I would never return to the CBD, neither would I recommend it to anyone else.
I submitted a complaint to an independent agency in relation to the council's risk management processes.
Interestingly, the agency numbered my complaint with a six-digit number, ending in 666.
I think I'm staying inside on Halloween.
You never know, there could be demonic government officials out at night, preying on your earnings.
Apparently, feeding on tax money increases their appetite, strength and demonic powers.
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