A Tale of Two Cities Part 2: Mother Nature names her price

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Two nights safely spent in Christchurch, three nights, four...still I haven't felt a single quake or aftershock. I'm not sure if I'm more relieved or disappointed by this. Obviously I don't want to be in a devastating earthquake anymore than I wish such terrifying aftershocks and damage on the already frayed nerves of Cantabrians. But a small part of me would like to feel the ground move beneath my feet - just enough to get the adrenalin pumping like on a big rollercoaster ride, not enough for the hostel I'm in to fall down on my head.



Once again I found myself with a few hours in Christchurch and ended up walking around the no-go zone that is the city centre. This time the sunshine was out and so were the tourists. Out of such devastation has emerged a 'Ground Zero' style tourism that draws people to come to disaster zones to see for themselves the destruction and sense the atmosphere. And why not, Christchurch needs tourist dollars and it needs the outside world to know that it is still open for business. When the news crews disappear and the next disaster steals the headlines, there are still thousands of people living here and getting on with daily life while the cranes and diggers slowly eat their way through the office blocks, crumbled Victorian shop fronts and livelihoods of the city centre. Few people probably realise that almost exactly one year on after the most devastating aftershock, the iconic buildings of Christchurch are only just starting to be taken down, brick by brick, and carted off in skips.



But all is not gloom and despair in this city. While a few months ago the grey skies and chill Arctic winds made for a rather depressing walk around the city in search of a hot drink, this time my visit seemed tinged with hope and light at the end of a dark and difficult chapter in Canterbury's history. On a glorious summer evening couples strolled alongside the River Avon in the shade of the trees. Cycle commuters zigzagged home on side streets around the cordon empty of motorised traffic. And down on Cashel Street the biggest sign of Christchurch's renaissance has sprung up in vivid pop colours – the Cashel Street Mall. A shopping street on cleared ground made entirely from shipping containers stuck together like lego bricks. Designer boutiques and highstreet stores are side-by-side with funky cafes. Everywhere you look there are flowers and bright colours and people relaxing.



They say that it will take 10 years to rebuild Christchurch. I can well believe this. But even with a couple of months between visits I could already see progress: just a low wall where the rubble of a church had been cleared away, workmen busy putting up supports to strengthen the walls of historic buildings, cleared spaces being filled with pop-up bars and mobile food carts. Everywhere there are messages of hope and encouragement to build a brighter future for the city. The mass exodus of residents and businesses would be understandable, but actually all over town are signs to say that shops have only moved to premises just down the road. Out of devastation comes opportunity: a chance to plan and rebuild a city centre for the future; a city designed for people to live in and enjoy, not to be stuck in traffic jams and smog; a city with green spaces and a heart rather than a competition to build the tallest buildings in the world. Come see and support Christchurch now, but also plan to come back in a decade and see how a city can transform itself – that's my plan anyway.





While Christchurch was fading in the public conscience before Christmas, Nelson was hitting the headlines instead. My reputation for bringing the stereotypical British weather with me wherever I go hit a new low in mid-December 2011 when Nelson – the self proclaimed 'Sunniest Place in NZ' - was deluged with, I quote:

The most intense rainfall ever recorded in an urban area of New Zealand!

For four days it rained persistently, soaking the ground, my skin and the spirits of the normally cheerful Nelsonians. The skies were low, gunmetal grey and heaving with eager raindrops ready for battle. The puddles merged, the rivers rose and the gutters overflowed...then the real problems began. Nelson – and much of NZ – is built on ridiculously steep hillsides. Houses are stacked up these slopes, clinging to the hills by every means possible: stilts, staircases, skylines and sheer willpower being the most popular methods. While being half way up a hill in a flood may seem like a sensible location, when the thin layer of clay holding your house to the rock-face of that hill decides to surf off with gravity and your worldly possessions in tow, the location begins to look a little less rosy.



While I don't think any houses actually went for a ride down the cliff faces, a few gardens and the odd garage certainly did and there are now several multi-million dollar homes peering precariously into the void where their landscaped grounds used to be. The unfortunate people who live at the bottom of the hills risked the double whammy of flood waters and landslides coming in through their doors and windows. There is an apartment building on Wakefield Quay that I drive past everyday. It has been fenced off for the past 7 weeks and workmen are now just beginning to get in there and dig out all the mud that flowed through three storeys of the building! These poor people were evacuated just days before Christmas and their homes are red-stickered in an official assessment similar to the classifications given to damaged buildings in Christchurch.



Luckily nobody was badly injured or killed from what I heard on the news. Some stupid tourists decided to test the waters of a rapidly rising river and got themselves stranded up a tree until the overworked emergency services could rescue them. More significantly, whole communities were stranded. Cable Bay, a village 20 minutes drive from Nelson was cut off for days when the only road in was blocked by several landslides. Essential supplies had to be sent in by boat and helicopter! Similar things happened to isolated communities throughout the Nelson and Golden Bay region. Even the main Highway connecting everywhere east of Nelson with the tourist hotspots to the west was closed for a total of 9 days after most of the cliff face decided to reallign itself across both lanes of the road.



Thankfully, while I do live on a hill, the foundations of my house are very well drained – as demonstrated by the considerable waterfall pouring out the gutters during the deluge. My road was only half blocked by landslides so we could still pass with care. High tide, which threatened to back up the rivers across the entire town centre, wasn't unusually high so my workplace wasn't inundated. We had a few quiet days when no one ventured out in the rain and a few restaurants I usually deliver to were cut off. One of the girls I work with wasn't allowed in her house for a couple of days because a landslide had blocked her driveway and was threatening the houses either side of hers.



It could have been a whole lot worse of course. But still rather dramatic for a place supposedly blessed with a lovely sunny climate! Thankfully the sun has since come out and dried things up a bit and I've managed to enjoy a few days of summer in a beautiful location....

Although it is drizzling nicely as I write this so, in the words of a legendary Kiwi band:

Everywhere you go, always take the weather with you.

Sorry Nelson for jinxing your weather, I'm leaving in 2 weeks you'll be pleased to hear!!

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Photos

Highway 5
All that cliff face came down over the road and closed it for 9 days in total! Still narrowed and barriers up to try to contain any new slips.

Brick by Brick
All the skips are full of individual bricks - hopefully to rebuild this church one day, or at least for salvo yards rather than the dump.

Internal Injuries
Even buildings that seem fine on the outside have all sorts of internal damage to clear up.