Rubble of Christchurch By noon, we’ve dropped off our rental and Kristy’s friend Heather, who we stayed with in Wellington, is there to pick us up in her rental. She’s down on the South Island for her flounder research. She drops us off at Chester St. Backpackers, a cute and homey place, brightly colored Victorian style with flowerbeds in front and a fat cat prowling the perimeters. Its local claim to fame in this region of comfy, home-styled hostels is its car-beque, the front hood of a car set up as a barbeque grill. We’re definitely in the funky part of town with brightly colored older homes, spruced up to attract the young, hip, and loose. We decide to wander to the City Centre to see what’s become of Christchurch after its devastating February earthquake.
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