Banks Peninsula

I’ve just returned from a three day weekend in Christchurch. It’s my third trip across the Tasman in a single month. Definitely a personal record, one I doubt I’ll ever repeat. Why a third time?

Sadly my mother’s older brother, Uncle Rich, passed away last week after a brief illness. His death was caught everyone by surprise. Unlike my mother, Dick was still living semi-independently and was relatively high functioning despite the onset of dementia in recent years.

I got wind of his sudden illness while visiting Queenstown. He died the day after I returned to Sydney. After some reflection, I decided to cross the Tasman again for his funeral. In part, I wanted to honour the effort so many relatives made in attending my Mum’s funeral last year. I was also keen to support my Auntie Pam, Mum’s older sister, who’s lost two siblings in a single year.

The decision was easy to make thanks to a super cheap airfare. I cashed in some frequent flyer points and flew to Christchurch for less than $270. I also scored a great hotel deal via Amex, plus a discounted rental car for the weekend. Lo and behold, I found myself back in the Qantas First Class lounge at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning.

My flight landed shortly after 1:30pm. Within an hour I was in my rental car and heading for the city. I decided to make the most of the final hours of sunlight (sunset was at 5:05pm) and drove straight to the Port Hills. I drove up the Summit Road, taking time to stop and admire the view along the way.

I eventually came across a hilltop reserve offering an unrivalled view of Lyttelton. I arrived just in time to watch the hill’s lengthening shadow extinguish the sun’s final rays over the town. Chatteris Bay looked equally stunning in the distance. The view did come at a cost. The wind was bitterly cold. It left me shivering and I all but lost sensation in my hands. I finished the afternoon with an impromptu visit to Pam’s house before finally checking into my hotel shortly after 6:00pm.

Sunday dawned bright and clear, albeit with cold and crisp temperatures. I decided to make the most of my free day. After a hearty breakfast I drove out to Akaroa, stopping first for a brisk stroll a long the shore at Birdling Flats beach, the arcing spit that separates Lake Ellesmere from the Pacific Ocean. 

I’m so glad stopped at the spit. It’s an incredible formation. Much to my surprise I discovered the broad beach and expansive dunes consist entirely of smooth oval gravel pebbles. Incredibly they’ve all come from the Southern Alps, swept down to the coast by the braided Rakaia River, about 40km down the coast. Their smooth and rounded appearance reflects their origin as rubble ground smooth by glaciers grinding their way through the alps.

Akaroa was the same quaint town I vaguely remember from my last visit more than 30 years ago. I stopped to wander the village waterfront, including a cafe-filled esplanade at Main Wharf and a second stop near Daly’s Wharf. The harbour simply dazzled in the afternoon sun, but a bitter wind made for brisk walk.

On the edge of town I was lucky enough to find its relocated lighthouse open to visitors. Inside a volunteer guide showed me how its light was made to rotated by a falling weight. As the weight dropped it slowly spun a greased turntable. The weight had to be rewound with a hand crank every couple of hours. Apparently the lighthouse keeper did this every night for decades until a diesel generator relieved him of the burden.

The lighthouse was completed in 1879. However, its current location inside Akaroa Harbour isn’t its original home. It once stood 10km away on the wind-swept Akaroa Heads, at the entrance to the harbour. In 1980, after a new automated lighthouse was commissioned, it was dismantled into three sections, relocated and rebuilt.

I finished my tour of the Banks Peninsula with a road trip along the Akaroa Summit Road, before crossing to the opposite coast via Gebbies Pass. I drove through Governors Bay and Cass Bay as the sun was setting before returning to Christchurch via the Lyttelton tunnel. I then joined Pam’s children and grandchildren for a family dinner. The return journey was simply breathtaking. I lost count of how often I stopped to admire the view and take more Instagram worthy photos.

Early Monday morning I collected my brother Matt from the airport (shortly after 6:00am). We drove back to my hotel for breakfast. With a few hours to fill before the funeral we decided to ride the gondola up the Port Hills. As fate would have it we arrived shortly after a school load of schoolchildren. We queued more than half an hour for a gondola.

I’d climb a knoll next to gondola’s summit station on Saturday without appreciating it proximity. It was a surprise to discover it standing there as I crested the hill. I decided not to venture inside so it was still a new experience when we revisited it on Monday. Although, much like Saturday, the wind was still bitterly cold. Once again Chateris Bay glowed in the sunlight. 

The gondola’s base station is next to the mouth of the Lyttelton tunnel. Hence, after returning to the carpark we decided to drive through for a quick look around Lyttelton. I was keen to see the remnants of the town’s iconic Timeball Station. The original structure was destroyed by an earthquake in 2011. Its stone tower has subsequently been reconstructed amidst the station’s crumbling foundation. 

We finished our morning with a scenic drive along the coast to Sumner, before returning to my hotel to prepare for Dick’s funeral. The remainder of the day was taken up by the service, and subsequent reception, before returning to cousin Nicki’s home for a light supper. The service bought back fond childhood memories, as well as some sad moments reflecting on my mother’s death 12 months ago.

I took Matt and my cousin, Roanne, to the airport about 6:15pm, then returned to my hotel for an early night. My flight on Tuesday morning departed at the ungodly hour of 6:00am. As a result, my alarm woke me shortly after 3:00am. By 9:00am I was back home in Sydney.

It was lovely catching up with family again. I also enjoyed being outdoors and soaking up some stunning scenery. Despite the sad occasion, my weekend away was a perfect anecdote for this year’s stressful start. Sadly, our business is struggling in the current economic climate. As a result, most days feel like a bit of a slog. A little escapism was just what the doctor ordered.

On the road to recovery

At 12.51 p.m. on Tuesday 22 February 2011, a magnitude 6.3 earthquake shook the city of Christchurch.  Its epicentre, near the port town of Lyttelton, was less than 10 km southeast of Christchurch's central business district. It caused the collapse of several major buildings including the city’s much loved and photogenic cathedral. 185 people were killed and several thousand were injured.

My family traces many of its roots to the Christchurch and Canterbury region. As a child, I recall spending many enjoyable holidays at my grandmother’s house in central Christchurch (think of a rope swing hanging from a Pear tree).  Therefore it was an emotional experience to watch live television coverage of the quake’s devastation and its aftermath. My aunt’s home was destroyed by the quake and my cousin, a civil engineer, was heavily involved in the city’s slow recovery.

I spent a day touring the city with my Auntie Pam on ANZAC Day, witnessing first hand the extent of the city’s devastation and its rebuilding efforts. Pam was a superb host. Together we visited many of the disaster’s more poignant locations. This included the recently opened memorial park on the banks of the Avon River, the shattered remains of the cathedral and its “temporary” replacement, the quirky “cardboard cathedral”.

The memorial park is a credit to the city.  It’s a wonderful place of reflection.  For me, the memorial’s highlight is a kōhatu pounamu (greenstone) resting on a marble plinth at its entrance. It reflects an established Māori tradition of placing pounamu at important entranceways and thresholds and the ritual of touching the stone connects visitors and locals back to the land and all those who have been there before us.

The greenstone is sprayed at regular interval by a water feature.  This accentuates the stone’s rich green colour as well as symbolises water’s life-giving qualities. No doubt it also discretely assist with public hygiene as almost every visitor, myself included, pauses to reflect and touch the stone.

We then walked the streets of central Christchurch.  I was astonished to see block after block of commercial buildings had been demolished and removed.  I knew this had happened but the reality was rather confronting and brought home the true scale of this disaster. 

However, it was also encouraging to see the first new blocks of buildings open for business.  It’s clear that once Christchurch has been fully rebuilt, the city will enjoy an incredibly modern, vibrant and unusually coherent streetscape.  The temporary cardboard cathedral is a superb example of this regeneration.

Designed by Japanese architect, Shigeru Ban, the officially titled “Transition Cathedral” is genuinely impressive.  Its gently sloping roof rises 21 metres (69 ft) above the altar. Materials used in its construction include 60-centimetre diameter cardboard tubes, timber and steel. The roof is clad in clear, ribbed, plastic poly-carbon sheeting, while eight shipping containers housing side chapels and office form its walls.

Perhaps the most shocking sight of my brief visit was the open parklands that have appeared in several locations along the Avon River’s bank.  These calm, grassy stretches, filled with mature trees, often in orderly orders are in fact the remains of abandoned suburbs.  Several areas of the city experienced dramatic bouts of liquefaction during the quake and its numerous aftershocks. 

As a result, entire suburbs were gazetted as “Red Zones” and deemed permanently unsuitable for rebuilding.  My Aunt’s former home lies within one zone and my grandmother’s house sits literally across the street from a second zone.  I’m sure one of these parks will make a superb golf course some day.

Flights ahoy!

We've got another series of flights scheduled in the weeks ahead.  This time we're travelling for pleasure rather than business.  First up we're off to Cairns and Far North Queensland for an Easter break.  I'm then heading off to visit family for an extended four-day ANZAC weekend.

We've taken advantage of a complimentary night's vacation with Accor Hotels to book ourselves into a superb venue at Palm Cove before heading into to the Daintree for a luxury bush retreat.  We'll then finish our weekend with a couple of nights at Garry's brother's new house near Mosman.

My New Zealand vacation includes a 24-hour stopover in Christchurch before heading north to see my Mum and catch up on my brother's ambitious building project, aka, his new home. I'm keen to see how Christchurch has changed since the devastating 2011 Earthquake and see first hand how the city is recovering from last month's terrorist attack on two of its inner-city mosques.

These won't be our last leisure outings for the year.  Last week we took advantage of some special offers to secure a week's vacation at the Shangri-la Resort in Fiji in early-September.  We're hoping to repeat the wonderful experience we had in Fiji around the same time last year.  Garry did a superb job of uncovering a hotel deal and flights discounted almost 50%.