Wednesday, September 2, 1998 We had allowed half an hour to see the Kiwi & Birdlife Park. As a result, we saw the kiwi house, but nothing more. One to two hours would have been better, as there is quite a bit more to see than just the kiwis. Although the kiwi is the best known, it is just one species of many of New Zealand's unique birds. With the exception of the kiwis which are housed indoors, the rest of the park is outdoors in a natural wooded park-like setting, at the foot of Bob's Peak, the base of the Skyline Gondola.
Once in the kiwi house, you see nothing for five to ten minutes until your eyes adjust. Because the kiwi is nocturnal, the kiwi house is artificially kept on a day/night cycle opposite of actual day/night, so the kiwis will be active during daytime hours when the park is open. One could say that kiwis in captivity in NZ are really on London time (on the opposite side of the world). We were lucky enough to see both birds of the pair. They look like large oblong bowling balls with very large legs and butt, a small head, a long beak and duck-like feet, without the webbing. Their nostrils are at the end of their beak, and due to their poor eyesight, they use their beaks as a guide (also a tool for eating), with their beaks bobbing up and down on the ground continuously as they walk. It is sad to think that New Zealand's native flightless birds, including the kiwi, are disappearing due to abundance of predators brought over by humans, including rats, pigs, cats and dogs.
As a result of clearer skies, the flight from Queenstown to Christchurch was even more scenic than the non-stop from Auckland to Queenstown. We flew over Lake Wanaka, which is in an adjacent mountain valley surrounded by more of the Southern Alps, either Cardrona or Treble Cone ski area which appeared to have more snow than either the Remarkables or Coronet Peak. After flying over the Southern Alps, the rest of the flight is over the Canterbury Plain, with its mosaic of agricultural fields and horse farms, complete with practice race tracks. The flight was in a turbo-prop which flew at half the altitude of a jet, aiding the view of what lay below.
Once in Christchurch, we were going to spend two nights in a bach (pronounced batch, a Kiwi vacation home), that one of Rich's co-workers was kind enough to let us use. Peter, Rich's co-worker, had given Rich directions to get to Diamond Harbour, where the bach was located, using a bus and a ferry, and then walking uphill via a footpath. Later, when asked how far the footpath was from the ferry dock, Peter replied, "it's a ways." After mentioning the quantity and weight of our luggage, Peter suggested that we could either take a cab, or rent a car. We opted for the latter, which as it would turn out was the only sensible way to do it.
After arriving in Christchurch, the woman at the Budget Rent a Car counter gave us a detailed map of Christchurch and vicinity, and explained how to drive out to the Banks Peninsula and Diamond Harbour. Southeast of Christchurch is a ridge formed by a volcanic cinder cone. Lyttleton Harbour, Christchurch's harbor, on the other side of the ridge is a sunken caldera, opening to the Pacific. The Banks peninsula is beyond Lyttleton Harbour. Diamond Harbour is directly across the water from Lyttleton, the port for Christchurch.
We crossed a summit climbing over the ridge on a very windy road, and then circled the bay to Diamond Harbour. Driving over the pass, we could see Christchurch, the Canterbury Plain, and Mt. Hutt and the Southern Alps beyond. Once past the developed area, the fields were yellow with scotch broom and acacia flowers, exactly 6 months after they flower back home in February and March.
After trying to translate Peter's hand-drawn map for hikers from the ferry terminal, not drivers of rental cars, we found the bach, identifying it by the garage made from old shipping crates, and the #10 painted on the garage.
Having found the place, we now had multiple challenges: how to turn the on the power; how to make the toilet work (NZ plumbing is different than North American plumbing); how to turn on the water heater; how to hook up the water so the water pressure would change from a trickle to normal. This was made all the more challenging by the fact that we were tired, cold and hungry. After successfully finding the main circuit breaker mounted about 6 feet high on the wall in the living room, we managed to turn the water heater on. Next was the toilet. After locating a wrench and turning what we could only guess was the water valve on, the tank was still empty and wouldn't fill. It was Rich who discovered the wedge that was holding the float in place to prevent the tank from filling. The one thing we could not figure out was how to fix the water pressure.
Peter's map showed a pub and a small store, which appeared not far away. As the bach did not have a phone, we hoped there would be a pay phone there so Rich could call Peter, to solve the water pressure problem, and confirm that we had turned on the water heater correctly. In addition, we hoped the pub, or store was open, so we could get something to eat. There was a pay phone and there was a pub and store, both closed. Fortunately, Peter was home and when Rich called, he laughed and said, "I betcha you're calling because I forgot to tell you how to turn everything on!"
While Rich was talking to Peter, Erin asked a local who was walking by if there was anywhere to eat nearby. He looked puzzled, and said, "Around here?!" He explained that we would probably have to drive half an hour to Lyttleton, or that there may be a place or two before Lyttleton.
Following the local's advice, we drove to Lyttleton, and discovered that although significantly more commercial than Diamond Harbour, it was also a sleepy little town. Luckily, we saw what appeared to be a coffee shop called the Volcano and upon further inspection, it was a restaurant with a much more sophisticated menu than we would have expected in these parts (including enchiladas of all things!). Also strangely enough, after sitting down, I recognized the sign indicating their toilets, large gaudy letters with the spelling Lava Tory with a toilet seat between the two words, from a photo in the Lonely Planet New Zealand Guidebook. I asked the waiter if he knew that they had this dubious distinction in the guidebook, and he said no, but it didn't surprise him because they were mentioned in some non-conventional guides and they did get a significant number of customers from far-away places. The food was reasonably priced and very good. We picked up some breakfast supplies at a dairy (a convenience store, not a place where they milk cows) just down the street.
On the way back, we saw a sign on a pub that said "Bottle Shop." Realizing we had no beer, we walked into the pub, and all five heads at the counter of the pub turned in unison, and looked at us. After one of them said, "Welcome, friends," we asked the barmaid where the bottle shop might be and she replied that we were standing in it. One of the gentlemen at the bar helpfully suggested that they didn't have any Budweiser. The woman behind the bar said actually that they did have 4 cans of it. I recommended they send it back to the States. After some deliberation, we bought a 6 pack of Canterbury Draught (known locally as CD) and a bottle of merlot-cab (a 50/50 blend popular with the Kiwis.)
We returned to the bach and realized Peter's recommendation that we build a fire was no joke. During the whole time we stayed there, the weather was consistent: between 35 and 40o F, with rain ranging from torrential to inspirational for ark-building. It may have been our imagination, but it seemed that it was colder inside than it was outside. The fire helped, a little, as did an electric space heater. We served the red wine the following night at room temperature, which from tasting it, was about the same as it would have been had we kept it in the frig.
Thursday, September 3, 1998 Central Christchurch is quaint and small by American city standards, with a number of shops selling New Zealand products such as sheepskins and wool sweaters, all with signs in Japanese, indicating who spends a lot of money in the area. The cathedral is an impressive old stone building looking older than its 117 years. Another landmark of Christchurch is the River Avon, normally peacefully winding its way between tree-lined banks through the center of town, but on this day, turbulently raging with storm drains emptying into it at capacity. When the weather is more accommodating, one can hire a punt (the English equivalent of a Venetian gondola) and be guided along the river by the punter.
In Christchurch, at Rich's insistence that I try a freshly baked, rather than pre-packaged pie, we stopped at a little bakery. The difference was exponential. While I found all of the frozen pies edible, the home-made one had a much flakier (rather than mushy) crust, and the inside tasted like fresh vegetables, and not that bland cardboard frozen taste so characteristic of frozen food globally. Even Erin conceded that this was much better than the ones she had seen me try before, at the ski areas or on the Milford boat. For those from North America, a pie is meat and/or vegetables in a gravy sauce enclosed in a pastry shell that Kiwis and Aussies have for lunch, never dinner. This is not to be confused with the congealed fruit and sugar mixture in a 10 to 12 inch pastry shell one has for dessert at Denny's in the USA. The New Zealand version takes the shape of a miniature pie, just like the apple pies Mom used to bake, only smaller.
After our walk through central Christchurch, we visited the International Antarctic Centre, which is adjacent to the airport. Christchurch is the closest city of size large enough to support expeditions to the world's southernmost continent. The center has a museum with loads of information, artifacts and displays about exploration on Antarctica. In addition, for those non-skiers unfamiliar with the sensation of an icy wind in sub-freezing temperatures stinging your face with ice crystals, there is a room that has snow and a large fan in it to replicate this wonderful effect. To avoid making the snow dirty, visitors dumb or naive enough to want to this experience are required to wear latex over-shoes over their street shoes. Other things of interest in the museum include a video log of an employee at one of the research stations and a real-time display of current weather conditions at the research stations on Antarctica.
For dinner that night, not wanting to push our luck with the appliances in the bach, we opted for take-out pizza, from a small, little-known Christchurch pizzeria, Pizza Hut. It turned out NZ Pizza Hut pizza is different (read not as good) than American Pizza Hut, but being that we were famished, it was all rapidly eaten, along with a green salad and chilled red wine.
Today was our last day in Queenstown and after much deliberation, we (Rich & I anyway) decided to use the last day of our 3 day ski pass, which we felt we had enough time to do before our 4:00 flight to Christchurch. After skiing, we were going to stop at the Kiwi & Birdlife Park, so Erin and I could see a kiwi, something that is very unlikely to near impossible in the wild.
After a leisurely breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast, we decided to explore Christchurch. I was hoping to see the Wizard, a local character in a wizard outfit, complete with hat and staff, who gives speeches in front of the Cathedral in the town center voicing his opinion on government, women, and the human race in general. The Wizard was nowhere to be found. Even if he wasn't taking NZ winters off or in semi-retirement, stopping the torrential downpour was probably beyond his wizardly powers.