Banks Peninsula & Christchurch

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We were now onto the last leg of our road trip around New Zealand. After our day at Mount Cook we spent the night back on the east cost in Timaru, before driving the rest of the way to Aakora in the Banks Peninsula. Once we'd left the main state highway, as with most of our journeys in New Zealand, it was a pleasure to drive: lush green hills, the smell of the sea in the air and barely another car on the road. We climbed the steep hills and coasted down the other side to Aakora - a cute seaside spot with a distinct French feel to it. The town had been founded by French settlers and retained a strong connection to its heritage; the tricolour flying from flag posts everywhere, roads named 'Rue...' and a number of French restaurants. The place had a real charm to it, but of course that is what the French are good at no? After a quick stop at the tourist information centre, we wondered around the town, getting a good sniff of the sea air before finding a restaurant with an open fire. With a glass of cider in hand, we could have stayed there toasting all afternoon but we had a campsite to find so sadly we only had the one drink before getting back to the van. Home for the night was a holiday park just a few kilometres away right on the sea front. The location was perfect and we seemed to be the only campers so it was nice to find a nice secluded spot. That night we ate another stir fry - we were probably into double figures for stir fries now. Then we watched E.T and Sonya dropped a bombshell by admitting she'd never seen it before - what a deprived child!

The next morning we left the Banks Peninsula for Christchurch. I was curious to see what the city was going to be like since my last visit in 2007. Since then it had been ravaged by two huge earthquakes and during the last four weeks it seemed you couldn't go a day without seeing or hearing something relating to the Christchurch rebuild on the news or radio. I imagined the place was going to be like building site but on first appearances that wasn't the case. As we cruised through the suburbs towards the city things seemed very normal. It was as we reached the city centre though, that we became aware of the scale of the devastation. We were looking for somewhere central to park to get our bearings and discover Christchurch on foot but the area that used to be downtown Christchurch was now completely off limits - surrounded by wire mesh fencing with signs saying 'red zone.' Everywhere you looked there were DANGER, NO ENTRY, KEEP OUT signs and this was over two years since the last big earthquake hit. I think it's fair to say, progress had been slow. Eventually we parked on the outskirts of the red zone by the botanical gardens. In the afternoon we visited the Westfield shopping centre where Sonya and I both got our hair cut - Sonya's first trim in over four months. It was our final night with the camper van, affectionately know as Murray, so we found a campsite for the last time before heading to the cinema to see Gatsby with Leonardo DiCaprio.

It was time to check out and drop off Murray but not before giving him a quick clean down. It was the least he deserved (actually it was a requirement to get our deposit back but we didn't mind as he'd been good to us for the whole journey). For our last two days in Christchurch, we were staying in a lady's spare room. We'd left it late to book a hostel and with the All Blacks playing against France that evening - every respectable place was fully booked. Sonya found a bed for us online using Airbnb and it was excellent. Kit, our host, had this wooden bungalow with really cool vintage furniture. Our room was separate to the house giving us some privacy and Kit wasfriendly and very chilled out. It was the perfect place to relax after four weeks cramped into a little camper van. After settling in, we made our way to Restart, a pop-up shopping precinct made up of shipping contains near to the red zone. It was a quirky little place but we weren't really there to shop. Instead we visited the quake museum. It was very scientific and factual to begin with; explaining how earthquakes are caused, why New Zealand has so many and stating other notable quakes in the country's history. Soon the exhibitions began to focus on the disasters of 2011 and 2012. It was incredibly gripping. I remember seeing CCTV footage showing people out on the street, going about there day to day lives when the ground began to move; the camera shakes violently, people struggle to keep their balance on the jelly-like pavements, cracks suddenly appear in the road and buildings collapse. You see one man walking in background, the building behind him then just collapses seemingly on top of him. A plume of dust shoots up. A moment later his figure reappears and I feel this huge sense of relief. He was inches, split seconds away from being killed. The most powerful part of the exhibition though was a documentary detailing local people's experiences of the earthquakes. People reliving those moments, the aftermath, the impact it had on their lives. The interviewees gave harrowing accounts of lost limbs, lost friends and loved ones. It was incredibly emotional. We sat there and watched with a lump in our throat for nearly an hour. I appreciate it could be difficult for some people to stomach but in my opinion, the quake museum is a must-see for anyone visiting Christchurch. Did I mention the All Blacks were in town to play against France? Well we'd been fortunate enough to pick up some tickets earlier in the week. I was buzzing at the prospect of seeing the World Champions on home soil, a little disappointed that neither Richie McCaw or Dan Carter were playing but it would be a spectacle nonetheless. It was a 7pm kick off so after visiting the quake museum we decided to have a leisurely walk down towards AMI stadium, stopping off at a few watering holes along the way. With a few hours remaining before kick off, we found a quaint little Irish pub around the corner. There were plenty of Kiwis in there as you can imagine but a small French contingent fought their way into the packed bar, shouting 'Allez les Bleus,' wearing berets, carrying baguettes and for added effect, swirly moustaches painted on their faces. The fancy dress went down well with the locals and they gave their visitors a congratulatory pat on the back. It was Sonya's first time watching a rugby game so I ran over some of the rules en route to the stadium. We arrived 15-20 minutes before kick off, giving us chance to soak up the atmosphere and time for Sonya to ogle both sets of players as the teams warmed up. Our view was fantastic; just eight or so rows back right on the five metre line. I was surprised as it was such a diminutive stadium but it was in fact a temporary ground erected after the previous AMI stadium was written off after the earthquake. I wasn't complaining though as I can't imagine getting seats like ours at Twickenham for little over 30 quid! The players came out to a rousing reception, the national anthems were observed impeccably and then the All Blacks performed the Haka. It was incredible, one of those moments when the hairs stand up on the back on your neck. The game itself was really enjoyable - New Zealand won by 30 points to zero, with the All Blacks keeping solid at the back and running in some great breakaway tries. It was a fitting end to our time in New Zealand, a country that is completely rugby mad. After the game, Sonya was craving Dominos pizza so we settled from the lashing rain there before getting a taxi home. We spent our last day in New Zealand preparing for our visit to Australia and catching up with family. It had been a very memorable experience touring New Zealand's north and south islands. We'd crammed a lot into our four weeks with 'Murray' - our ever faithful Toyota Hiace and despite the many hours we'd clocked up behind the wheel, Sonya and I loved the freedom that travelling in a camper van brought. It was, for us, the perfect way to see New Zealand in all of it's natural beauty.

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