Every afternoon at about 3.45, the cries for help start. Through the wall behind me, two men yell sporadically, one after the other, things we can't understand. Then after a bit of that, they yell together "HELLLLP! HELLLLLP!" There is a very old firedoor there, and so I guess the sound comes through there rather than through the foot-thick sandstone walls. One of our neighbours somewhere in this labyrinthine Arts Centre is the Terrapin Puppet Theatre, so we have guessed that it is they, rehearsing some ground-breaking whimsical hi-jinks. I can tell by their voices that they have beards and ride old fixy-gear bikes.
Across Salamanca Place there is some heavy construction happening on the Princes Wharf shed. Meanwhile, a very strange ship named the Maria has replaced the Aurora Australis. The Maria has another very large boat on top of it. That's right, on top. The Maria has absolutely enormous cranes, and it seems like it has been trying to unburden itself of the hitchhiking boat, but to no avail so far. There is endless banging, sirens, boops and whoops. Every now and then people down on the wharf shout "Left, left, LEFT, STOOPPPP!! STOP, FOR F*CKS SAKE!"
So every time we hear "HEELLLLLLLLLPPPP!!!!" through the wall it takes a little while to process that no, no-one has been crushed by a boat.