Christchurch (NZ not BGI)

So I said goodbye to Nelson and my new Freerider friends - by the way, I forgot to mention that in Nelson I also saw the actual ring created for the Lord of the Rings trilogy (shot in New Zealand) - from Bag End to the actual ring - guess I've come full circle so to speak.

So next I was off on the bus to Christchurch. Here is a showing my NZ stops - Wellington to Nelson to Christchurch.



The seven hour trip was very pretty, through the mountains into the valleys, through the woods, over the hills and around the dale, lots of green...but then you already heard about that from the last bus trip. Pretty as it was, I was really ready to be off the bus in Christchurch - I was starting to get pancake bum.

I knew I was going to like this place when just within a few blocks of my luxury accommodations at the YMCA - I actually highly recommend the Y, good views, clean rooms and like the birdie says, cheap cheap cheap, but I digress, so as I was saying, within a few blocks was Montreal Street, Barbadoes Street and Peterborough Street - this town was meant for me!!

After freshening up, I hit the town. My first stop was across the street at the Dux de Lux which Sally Hetzel had recommended. I parked myself at the bar for a cocktail (stools still relatively unoccpuied here too). They were going to be having a reggae band later so I decided to venture on and return later the band on my way back to the Y. Next I moved on to Oxford Street for dinner which was a whole block of nothing but restauraant/bar/cafe type establishmets - so many restaurants, so many choices, what to do, what to do.
Oxford Street
I finally decided on Cayote after much walking back and forth and back and forth and back again. Food was good, two for one wine, lovin it. Only problem was that the only table they had left was up on a stage - so much for blending in inconspicously. No worries, I sat drinking my wine from my perch, watching people that I couldn't see, hoping to look oh-so-suave, rather than oh-so-silly. Suddenly, once I had re-focused my attention on my tasty dinner, this guy asks if he could join me, sure, why not, I was ready for a little conversation. He was a doctor from Egypt, married a kiwi, moved to NZ, divorced yada yada yada...turns out he has recently taken up salsa dancing (it's everywhere), said there was a big salsa party happening nearby - ok, I'm in.

Music was good, lots of good dancers and my new buddy knew all the teachesr so introduced me around. They had some good performances too, salsa couples and girls doing samba to calypso music. Then my doctor buddy says that he has to be home at midnight to talk to his parents in Egypt, did I want to come - ah, no thanks. I was happy to hang out solo, while he might not be turning into a pumpkin, after the dancing, he was beginning to smell a bit like one.

I hung out for a bit until the music changed to pop and when they played the Mickey song (hey mickey you're so fine...) - I decided it was time to leave - the evening was feeling a bit like a weird episode of this is your life. I headed back to the Dux for a nightcap. Unfortunately I had missed the band, seems it was later than I thought which isn't surprising since it doesn't get dark there until 10pm, so it's hard to know what time it is. The drunken bartender and his entourage suggested another happening bar I should check out.

The bar was hopping with a band playihng 80's rock which seemed a little weirdly popular. I was wound up from the salsa, so I'm up there being a dancing fool since I am leaving in the morning and wont see there people ever again likely and well because I have no shame, and then I go to the bathroom and start talking to this girl who is from toronto - craziness! The only other tourists I had seen here were Australians. I then starting chatting with some local boys at the bar, was telling them about the movie World's Fastest Indian - which by the way is a great movie - story about Burt Munro, an old guy from Invercargill New Zealand (see map) whose dream is to break the speed record at the Bonneville salt flats in Utah with his 1920's Indian motorcycle. Anthony Hopkins is Burt who meets all kinds of interesting characters on his trip from LA to Utah, worth seeing and Bob's your uncle - but I digress again - so these boys (whose names I coudn't actually hear) were all motrcycle riders - one raced motorcross on 25 different bikes, that's a big garage - none of them had heard of Burt Munro, so sad.

After my legs were about to collapse from dancing, I finally headed back to the Y - got a little lost, which worked out fine, since I wondered by Victoria square which was all lit up at night and had a hot dog - with cheese. It's also reallyy safe in NZ, don't seem to have any real crime issues and even though it was almost 4am, there were still tons of people out - bars are open 'until late' which basically means they close when the people leave, which in some cases may be never.

Saturday morning, despite a little dehydration and some very stiff joints, I set off to see the town before my afternoon flight back to Sydney.

I really liked Christchurch, more than Wellington, it's a very pretty city with a big central square with a Victorian cathedral, a river running through the downtown and right across fromt the Y was Hagley park, 2nd largest park in the world, second to Central Park. The botanical gardens in the park were really beautiful.

Main Square in the city
Arch of Remembrance at city hall - there was a charter day parade the day I was there with the military color guard

Museum a the park entrance


Botanical gardens

I would like to have had a bit more time in Christchurch, but I was actually looking forward to going back, this life of leisure was exhausting, between the walking and swimming and rowing and dancing and walking and sailing and walking (lots of walking) a little indoor time in Toronoto was sounding pretty good.