During the civic unrest following the heavily-armed vote of no confidence in the highly unpopular Retroclastic Regime an unidentified party detonated a Eutrophication Bomb within one of the lesser canals of the Twelfth Tier. What was once a thriving waterway leading from the Left Bank of the River Senube to the Reflecting Pool of the Looking Glass Saint was quickly transformed into a riotous swamp that the Canal Authority eventually was able to contain and stabilize as a densely forested parkland with only minimal casualties.
The original bioscripts and nanocodes have been eradicated and the entire area is constantly monitored by a series of moss-encrusted monitorliths that are stationed every twenty feet around the entire perimeter of the affected area. The monitorliths ensure that should the unthinkable ever happen, those areas that show the slightest sign of reawakening into the least bit of questionably Eutrophic activity will be summarily dropped through a one-way dump-gate to some unclaimed hellworld or industrial platform well beyond the bounds of Civilization.
The Greenstreet Canal Memorial Parkland Museum
There is a small museum located at the Westernmost tip of the Greenstreet Canal Memorial Parkland that holds relics left over from the bombing, including samples of the antiquated malware that was used in the bomb itself, all safely pithed, blocked and sealed outside of casual access. The timelapse holodisplay of the bomb's runaway nanonutrification and cellular derangement of the common canal-plants such as hyacinths, lilies, micromangroves, driftferns, or floating kudzu is impressive and very detailed in its coverage from every angle. The display of sixteen shoes lost by fleeing tourists and others in the wake of the bomb's detonation is one of the more curious items that many tour groups note in their vidlets or recount as they pass the place by on walking tours. It is a small, much overlooked museum and the custode in residence is obviously quite lonely.
The Hotels Alexandria and Belvedere face each other across the park, both of the venerable institutions maintain ornate fountains that they hope will obscure their competitor from their patrons. The rivalry between these two establishments is fierce, absolutely discrete, but very intense. There are rumors that urchin-gangs have been enlisted by management to act as informal parasecurity operatives for the two Hotels, but nothing has been confirmed. Both are in good standing with the Unionists and maintain their own claded, but non-slave, staff-clans within the bounds of their charters.
There is a wonderful comparative retrospective detailing the histories of both the Hotel Alexandria and the Hotel Belvedere, considered singly and jointly, over at the Greenstreet Canal Museum. There's a discount on your admission if you are registered with either Hotel.
Blue Birds of Crappiness
Flocks of distinctly blue-gray budgies are a common, even expected sight within the wooded parkland. The budgies have learned how to maximize their effectiveness in dive-pooping visitors who do not offer them seed-treat bribes which can be purchased readily enough all along the edges of the park from a variety of vendors. The budgies were initially released into the place by a foreign exchange student from Bazra who was summarily fined and deported by the then much less customer-friendly Park Police. These days the parkland Special Sub-District is patrolled by a pack of very friendly watchdogs and a small extrusible-cadre of state-of-the-art waspcops that can be sent to any trouble-spot within minutes. So far they have not been required, as the watchdogs have done an excellent job of keeping the peace and enforcing the few special regulations that apply to this area.
There is an exhibit detailing the older, now deprecated and discontinued Park Police at the Greenstreet Canal Museum mentioned above. It is quite educational. The custode would love to see you.
Gin Joints, Galleries and a Very Special Urinal
There are a few dozen different nomadic tent-bars and pavilion-lounges that set-up in various portions of the Greenstreet Canal Parkland, usually right off of specially maintained trails that wind back to discrete sub-entrances to either of the major Hotels. Some of these non-establishments are licensed, most are not. The assortment of entertainment, liquor, appetizers or clientele is wildly varied and nearly random. Visitors come to these places for safe episodes of pseudo-naughtiness and to carry out faux-risque encounters with resident actors who are often performing from pre-arranged scripts. Everyone has a role to play amongst the mobile awnings and self-arranging lawn furniture, everything is planned and nothing is left to chance.
Celebrity simulacra often come to the Greenstreet Canal Park in order to forget their counterfeit identities or to cozen up to unsuspecting dupes whom they can either get a fame-fix from or may, just maybe find that one thing they most desperately seek over all else--a chance to establish their own reputations and to become rivals to their root-selves.
The various storefronts on either side of the two Hotels are taken up by ultra-specialist boutiques, appointment-only studios, and a number of galleries featuring the works of various competing artists who haven't yet acquired enough fame to get into the more fashionable galleries, but who deem themselves too good for the Waterfront or Low Districts. Critics haunt the alleys in order to keep an eye out for impromptu basement parties and clandestine garret-shows, most of which are carefully orchestrated by marketing experts on holiday from Corazune, various would-be Patrons from amongst the lesser Nobility, or pretenders with delusions of grandeur who seem to attract an audience far more effectively than many of the artists they represent can handle. Success and failure dance arm in arm across the patios and balconies of this place, while ambitions and opinions clash in a sultry Tango that visits every bar, cafe, and kiosk surrounding the Park. Artists vie for attention and their works compete in the galleries for recognition, acceptance, acclaim or notoriety while critics stalk each show and observe each artist looking for subtle clues to their inner motivations, waiting for the opportunity to either dash hopes or reward what they see as real accomplishments. Paid shills wander about the place, raving about one artist's work whilst running down others. Solorphans will vomit in the doorway of a particular gallery for a small fee. Other such services are also available as well.
Musicians wander about within the strict limits of their sponsoring venue. Freelance wait-staff jostle and vie for the best spots, always looking for the most tip-worthy guests and going to great lengths to claim their service territory from one another. Street-chefs prepare tapas, snacks and exotic tid-bits collected and downloaded from hundreds of cultures or subcultures. Mimes are said to lair within the darker regions of the wooded sections of the Park, but few are ever seen except during the annual hunting season when expert sharpshooters are sent in to maintain the population.
And then there is the Urinal. Valush Mardu's infamous Wandering Urinal. A simple, polysealed antique porcelain urinal, this peculiar object d'art randomly teleports from location to location throughout the Greenstreet Canal Park sometimes transporting unsuspecting would-be users of the thing along with it.
There is a rather humorous exhibit detailing some of the more amusing anecdotes concerning the Wandering Urinal at the Greenstreet Canal Memorial Park Museum. The custode would be very happy to recount his own experience with the thing, if you're at all interested.