Getting city tourism on a roll
IT’S probably fair to say that a Cadbury World in a town without a Cadbury’s factory is a bit like putting up a statue of Donald Duck in the Octagon.
‘‘What’s the bloody point of it?’’ Oddly, Mondelez, the Chicago firm which has just shut down their Cadbury Dunedin plant, closed the visitor centre at its biggest Australian factory at Claremont, Hobart, in 2015, having missed out on a $16 million handout for its retention offered by the Government as long as they could boost production by 20%.
Such a modest boost in Freddo Frogs seemed to be quite beyond the capabilities of the multinational giant which has annual turnover hovering around
$US30 billion ($NZ43 billion).
Of course, we should acknowledge the $2 million the company spent on setting up the ‘‘new’’ Cadbury World in Dunedin which now appears destined to provide just another bit of land for hospital development.
Perhaps they hope to get their money back when they sell the section.
My dark brooding on the evils of big business was interrupted by a visit from my old mate George who is equally gutted about Cadbury’s and has vowed that not one more Jaffa shall pass his lips. But George is an optimist and in his condition he needs to be.
‘‘I’m a lateral thinker, Jim,’’ he proclaimed, which seemed appropriate as he spends most of his time lying down. ‘‘We don’t need Cadbury World trying to cash in on something which now has nothing more than a nostalgic connection with the city.
‘‘And, anyway, chocolate was never unique to Dunedin. They make the stuff in Porirua, for God’s sake!’’ As usual, George fumed away for a good few minutes as is his habit when inflamed by a worthy cause and a long and liquid lunch.
‘‘This is what I laterally think,’’ he summed up. ‘‘A tourist attraction needs to be local.
Unique to the area. It’s like going to Moeraki to see the boulders. It wouldn’t be the same if you set them up next to the molars on Portsmouth Dr, would it?’’
I had to agree that he had a point and then suggested he come to the actual point or go away.
‘‘No need to be offensive,’’ he bristled, ‘‘Just wait until you hear about my scheme. Point one. Chocolate is food. Right? So we know that food is an attraction. What food have we got that’s local? Thought of pavlova at first, but then found the academics can’t agree. Maybe Kiwi, maybe Australian. Germany got in on it, too. Mutton pies? Now there was a goer, I thought. Great connection with the Scots immigrants and think of the event opportunities. It’s called a Scotch pie overseas and every year they have a World Scotch Pie Championship. Hundreds of entries. Imagine it being held in Dunedin. The Octagon awash with mutton pies. Makes that fashion week thing look a bit tawdry, eh?’’
‘‘Look, George. I know you mean well, but mutton pies and pavlovas aren’t going to bring a flood of tourists to Dunedin. Chocolate had a sort of image. Even a bit of mystery. I still don’t know how they get the peppermint inside the chocolate. Do you?’’
‘‘Who cares? Getting it out is what’s important, but that new Dunedin chocolate company better do peppermint, otherwise I’ll be going chocolateless for life.’’
‘‘Yes, well, thank you very much, George, but I’ll have to leave it there. I’m expecting a call from the mayor about how to handle deaf and/or stupid people. I’m pretty much the expert on that, being a bit of both myself.’’
‘‘But, wait, wait! You haven’t heard my best idea.
‘‘OK. OK. But be quick.’’
‘‘Right. It’s food. It’s fun. It’s local. Here it comes! Cheese Roll World!! Whaddya think?’’
In the stunned silence which followed, George warmed to his theme.
‘‘Cheese rolls. Definitely associated with the South. Had my first one in Tuatapere years ago. They reckon it was already being called a ‘southern delicacy’ in the 1930s just when sliced bread was becoming available.
‘‘And listen to this! A Dunedin man was a sliced bread pioneer. Wellknown man, William Alloo. Actually worked for the ODT. In 1923 he demonstrated a machine which sliced and buttered bread. With hand power it buttered 3000 slices an hour but with an electric motor it could do 10,000 slices. And, as everyone knows, it was sliced bread which made the cheese roll great. Just think of what we could do with all that. Cheese Roll World!! Come and See the World’s Largest Cheese Roll! A Hundred Metres of Hot Stuff! Then there’s the cheese roll rolling down Baldwin St!’’
George was still in full flight as I quietly closed the door and padded away into the gentle dusk of an autumn evening.