Big Decision!

Upon arrival in Akaroa we checked into yet another Holiday Park where we had the good fortune of viewing a strange duck mating ritual which evoked very clearly 2nd grade recess--the original boys chase girls site. We found a short and dimly lit path down to the pier so we headed down in hopes of catching a glimpse of the extremely rare Hector’s dolphins who happen to be the smallest marine animals in the world. Sadly we didn’t see any dolphins that night but we did stumble upon the short strip of shops and cafes that make up the small town. In an attempt to preserve the cultural heritage of the French settlers who lived briefly in Akaroa before succumbing to those greedy Brits (kidding!), the town was very obviously trying for French provincial. French and New Zealand flags hung proudly from the decorative cottages, street names were exclusively in French, and “Le Mini-Golf” seemed like the attraction of choice. Given the strong English influence we had encountered elsewhere in the country, being surrounded suddenly by all things French seemed wonderfully eccentric.

No time to dawdle though, we had a big decision facing us. We did compensate for our short visit to Akaroa by taking the very scenic Summit Road route back to Christchurch. I braced myself for a ride spent squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my foot to the imaginary brakes since the book called Summit Road “narrow” and “difficult for large vehicles.“ But the beautiful scenery led me to deter my usual and often unnecessary pleas for Jamie to slow down. The book was right--there was no road shoulder and we were literally driving on the edge of a mountain, with very steep drop-offs beneath us. As the road curved through endless herds of sheep and lush greenery ultimately leading us to the summit, an astounding view of the Pacific unfolded before us, its beauty enhanced by the faint glow of the Southern Alps in the distance. We had been skirting an in depth exploration of Christchurch for several days but the accessibility to such natural gems as Kaikoura and the Bank’s Peninsula that living in the Garden City would allow was impossible to ignore. That being said, Wellington was gorgeous in its own right, and it has the cultural element to boot--the city is full of free museums and is home to some of the best theatre and live music in the nation. There was no use making the decision without actually visiting Christchurch, so we spent Friday seeing what the city centre had to offer.

As it turns out, Christchurch was disappointing., especially since I had been rooting for it from the beginning. Our initial drive through the centre looked promising, but parking was impossible so we checked into our campsite and bused back into town--I could have been in New Jersey for all the strip malls and fast food chains we passed. I kept looking for the blooming gardens and picturesque Cathedral Square all my research had promised, but there just seemed to be construction and unkempt streets as far as we could see. There was one pocket of the city that led me to question our disinterest. The botanic gardens were enormous and clean and downright lovely. Boats meandered down the Avon River running through the park and throughout the city and joggers decorated the flat paths alongside the water. The Arts Centre which used to make up a large part of the University of Canterbury campus but now houses shops and cafes framed the park and we stopped into the famed Dux de Lux brewery for a much needed discussion. The unyielding sunshine of Christchurch was not helping Wellington’s case either, but as we broke down the pros and cons of each city, Windy Welly was the ultimate victor. Clearly Christchurch had its nice bits, but it was no match for the craggy rocks of Wellington Harbour and the unique vintage shops of Cuba Street. Of course it would be difficult to return to Wellington, especially without Leland 2 (we had to turn him in the following day) but we decided it was worth it.

Making the arrangements to get to Wellington proved easier than expected. Twenty minutes in the Christchurch tourist center later, we were North Island bound. Our trip would involve a bus to Picton where we would stay in a hostel for the night, then a second ride on the Interislander in the morning. We spent the remainder of daylight taking advantage of free internet in the Christchurch library by looking for apartments in Wellington--the prospects seemed promising.

The following morning we visited “the other University of Canterbury” to fulfill Jamie’s one wish in Christchurch. His dreams were dashed when the University shop selling UC apparel was closed, but he managed to buy a mug and took plenty of photos to commemorate the event. We then ventured to the airport to return Leland 2, whose leaky bladder would no longer be our concern. A shuttle brought us back to town where we whiled away the hour enjoying the last bit of South Island sun we would see for some time. At 4 pm we departed the city we would not call home.
We are now sitting on the Interislander with the hills of the North Island before us, a hostel booked for tonight, and a scheduled apartment viewing for 3 pm this afternoon. Its okay, you can be proud of us (and a little nervous too).