Was it fireworks exploding like sea anemones across a midnight sky on New Year’s Eve? Was it the costumes in a theatre production that were so vivid and lavish they took your breath away? Was it an architectural masterpiece viewed on a cultural tour with your parents? Whatever it was, think of your reaction magnified one hundred times and you may get some idea of how the children felt. At first, however, there wasn’t that much to see—just a vast gallery with a richly coloured mosaic floor, decorative columns and quaint little shopfronts lining either side. Milli and Ernest observed immediately that the different levels within Hog House had been retained, forming tiers that reached upwards towards a domed ceiling made entirely of stained-glass panels that scattered beams of tinted light across the floor. There was a sweeping staircase to one side, and old-fashioned elevators, painted forest green, for those too impatient to climb the stairs. The group stopped dutifully to read the arcade directory, which was shaped like an ancient scroll and held up by two brightly painted clay giants.
