Shaking the 'Jucy' out of Canterbury

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Leaving Sydney had been hard. Not just emotionally but physically too, with the airline giving us a lot of hassle about our onward flight details. So by the time we'd explained our intentions to leave New Zealand, and dashed all over the airport looking for a printer to provide paper evidence of this fact, we were both rather tired and slept for most of the three hour flight. Immigration and Customs on the other side were consistently over thorough and it was gone 1am before we stepped into the arrivals hall. At this late hour there seemed little point in catching a taxi into the city or to pay for a hostel bed we would hardly sleep in, so we followed the lead of others around us and cosied up on a patch of airport floor.

Our first night in NZ may not have been the comfiest but it was definitely the most economical and we woke with a crook in our necks but smiles on our faces. The ache moved to our backs next, as we shouldered our packs for the first time in three months, shuddering under the weight of gas stoves and saucepans now added to our gear. Fortunately the walk wasn't too far and we soon relieved ourselves of the 20kg weights and picked up a tasty cup of coffee and bagels from a cool cafe instead.

Christchurch seemed a friendly place, it's citizens were cheery and helpful despite the drizzle in the air. With their help we booked a rental car through the retro branded company 'Jucy', the name 'el cheapo' was too good an omen to miss and they didn't lie; it was value for money. So with our job for the day sorted so early and easily we were able to spend the whole afternoon exploring this university city.

As we walked through the streets it became apparent that the earthquake and the aftershocks that still rumble had left their mark here. Buildings were taped off and declared unsafe, diversions took us around precarious pavements, and there were piles of rubble where houses once stood. The cracks running down most old buildings and crumbled walls hinted at the widespread damage. It was sad to see, but strangely nobody we spoke to mentioned natural disasters or spoke negatively, the only thing on everyones minds was the 2011 Rugby World Cup being hosted here in September.

We experienced first hand what the seemingly never ending aftershocks feel like while we browsed the excellent Canterbury Museum. It was very odd, we had just finished looking at the exhibition on earthquakes and were stood in front of an antarctic sled when the earth literally shook beneath us. It lasted only a few seconds but it was so unexpected that for a moment I thought it was an extremely effective simulation! The looks on other peoples faces however confirmed that they had also felt the tremor ripple through them, once again no fuss was made, people just took a second and then carried on. It was classified level four on the ricter scale, and felt very similar to the 'quake of 08' as my uni friends and I named the earthquake that hit England a couple of years ago. After a few shared glances of shock we both took our lead from the locals and got on with our day.

Christchurch is often compared to Cambridge and with it's elegant Cathedral, stone university buildings, and even punting on the river you can see why. The old fashioned trams that trundle about the city add to the gentrified air, but lively bars and exotic restaurants bring it bang up to date. We really liked Christchurch and the relaxed atmosphere it held. The rainy mist descended again but moods were high as we sipped a beer on Portland street before walking back to our cool flat-share style accomodation at 'Vagabonds Backpackers'.

The next morning, as smoothly as the booking had been, we collected our 'Jucy-mobile!' It's engine size and bodywork may not impress any 'Top Gear' buffs but this little Nissan Pulsar was our home for the next six weeks so we loved it. We set out to the Banks Peninsula and immediately put our car to the test with steep hills and gravel roads. The car was groaning and probably wishing she'd been rented to someone else but we couldn't stop exclaiming how beautiful this drive was. Just half an hours cruise from Christchurch and we were away from the flat Canterbury Plains and in rolling green countryside. Forested hillsides veered down to sparkling blue bays, tiny villages like Pigeon Bay hidden from sight. We wound our way down steep, sheep covered slopes to a pretty harbour where the Pigeon Bay residents moor their boats.

As we battled the increasing winds in our effort to cook dinner we realised we would not be sleeping in the tent tonight. I put it back into the boot and promptly shut the keys in there too. Ooops! A few minutes of panic followed until we discovered the boot release beside the drivers chair, thank goodness we hadn't shut the doors yet!

We continued our loop around the Peninsula the next day, chugging up hills and burning the brakes on the downs. The car was struggling, so I understood the pained expressions on the faces of numerous sadistic cyclists we passed along the way. Mad people!

We arrived on the Rue Lavaud into the pretty village of Akaroa, which makes sense once you realise this was New Zealands first French settlement. Interestingly descendants of the sailors who landed here in 1838 still live here, and the town definitely feels French. It was a scorching day and we enjoyed a cafe au lait in a charming restaurant beside the harbour. Akaroa means long harbour in Maori, and it certainly lives up to it's name. The sheltered waters stretch and wiggle their way through this volcanically formed land to the sea.

It had only been 4 days since we arrived into Christchurch but already we had been blown over by the stunning scenery, and warmth of the New Zealand people. I think we'll like it here!

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