HANMER SPRINGS AND CHRISTCHURCH
Day 8.Enjoyed later start and spent the day shopping in some of the craft venues-replaced my crumbling dinner place mats with green foliage paterned one by an NZ artist and as there was no free wi-fi, communicated with friends by traditional snail-mail post cards.
Hanmer Springs is more of a spa town than a ski centre but it looks very much like the more modern ones I have been through in Colorado. The pools are in the centre and next door is the former hospital, now closed.
Once it was a Swiss style Alpine convalescence centre, then a recuperation hospital fot the damaged minds and shattered bodies of returning Gallipoli and WW2 veterans. Couldn't think of a calmer place to come after that hell of war.
On the heights of Chunuk Bair at Gallipoli which the Kiwis gained for a brief time, there is a monument to the "men who came from the far side of the world"-the small memorial in the central park records that five such men came from this peaceful haven and did not return.
In the afternoon the weather turned threatening-fierce wind and forecasts of snow-good time for a siesta and early Indian dinner before the evening games- England slaughtering Roumania(to thunderous applause of flag waving supporters in one pub) and the ABs comfortably overcoming a French team playing a strange style of slow-motion en masse rugby(to even more adulation from the packed Kiwi fans in another pub).
Day 9. Amongst the first into the basic spa pools. Warm, sulphurous and relaxing but otherwise nothing to write home about and not worth the $18 +$5 for towel fee. It's probably more stylish and certainly more pricey in the massage and therapies section but all in all I was much more impressed and indulged at the Daylesford spa back home(which is a lot more expensive and exclusive).
Easy and relatively flat run down into Christchurch and booked two nights at first campervan park I passed going into town-as well I did as I got one of the last sites. Seems that many football following vanners are paying tribute to the wounded city. I was also fortunate to book one of the last seats on tomorrow's Tranzalpine classic train trip through the mountains to Greymouth on the west coast(where the mining fatalities occurred) and back. Will be a welcome change from driving.
On the way into the centre of town, soon came up against the steel fences that quarantine the shattered CBD. This is being treated as a holy of holies and even the ABs declined the offer of a special tour inside, out of respect-which was well received. From my car I took a discrete shot of a gutted church and even further out there were signs of considerable damage to houses and motels.
WOUNDED HEART IN THE CBD
In the early evening I approached the sealed off CBD on foot-at 5pm on a Saturday night all roads, including streets and roads within and just outside the fences, were without vehicle and foot traffic.
It had that "after the bomb" eery feeling. Both modern towers and period buildings such as the Museum and Arts Centre had suffered varying degrees of damage from cracks and broken windows to whole walls and roofs torn away.
There were signs of corrugating of asphalt footpaths and fading marking where there had been gas leaks.By a number of churches and the arts centre the "decapitated " spires rested on pallets beside their buildings-like the mythical Elizabethan ghost who haunted the bloody tower,with 'is ead tucked under neath 'is arm'
On a wall a graffito(?) of hope in the shape of a policeman hugging and comforting a distressed woman. In a local auction of art works for the city charity more than 20 attributed to Banksy were included.
Having been here last on glorious sunny summer days with festive groups of people everywhere about and the trams weaving through the streets, my overwhelming feeling was of sadness. I can say no more and will let the pictures tell the story.
OLD AND NEW BUILDINGS SUFFERED
EVEN SUPER-MODERN COUNCIL TOWER AFFECTED
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