Summing Up New Zealand
New Zealand was beautiful, with a wide open sense of space and sky and sea, but somehow I managed to leave without being charmed by it. The weather was nasty, cold rain for 3 weeks. Their biggest industry is tourism, with an almost 1-to-1 ratio of resident to tourist, so everything was a commercial transaction. You, the tourist, are a commodity because that's how they make their money and they're very organized at that. But I could have walked away from New Zealand with a relatively ambivalent feeling toward the country if I had not made the very bad decision to end our trip in Christchurch.
This was my fault. I have never lived in a country that celebrated Boxing Day. So, my impression was that this was a fairly lively event, that stores were open and people were shopping and running around. I had thought that the best place to find someplace with a little life to it during the holiday would be the biggest city on the South Island. I was completely wrong.
Instead in Christchurch, it was second Christmas or maybe day 2 of extended holidays because a high ratio of businesses just had signs on their door that said they were closed until mid-January. It was pouring rain, cold, with a driving wind, and nothing was open. The girl at the hotel desk recommended a cafe / pizza joint a couple streets over that might be open for lunch, but really that's what the McDonalds is for. So, we fought our way over there through the storm and the pizza joint was open with empty tables, but the waitress took one look at us and yelled at us to get out, that they had no tables and I could not wait for one, go away! We tried to get coffee at another place and the guy said no, he wouldn't make us coffee, he didn't want to be open. Eventually we found a tiny 3 table Greek deli counter open to the street and the blowing wind and ate lunch there with the collars of our coats turned up, but dinner was looking awful iffy. We walked around a bit, saw the cathedral, bought some chocolates for Dean's coworkers. And then Dean, the good man that he is, said, go take a hot shower, I'm going to go poke around, because Dean is like a truffle dog. You just let him loose on the street and he will find good food.
And true to his word, he found a Bangladesh restaurant 4 blocks away, hidden behind some street construction. Apparently Bangladesh food is very similar to Indian but sweeter and milder.
The next day we wandered around the botanical gardens, climbed the cathedral bell tower.
Queen Victoria
Robert Falcon Scott
The Bridge of Remembrance war memorial
The Arts Centre
We went to the Natural History museum which had some excellent stuffed birds and an Antarctic exhibit of the actual tiny sheds the scientists used to live in during South Pole winters. But then we rounded a corner and came across a alcove with an Egyptian mummy in it. Here in this cold, wet place, so far from home. And in the glass case behind it, the staff had "mummified" children toys to explain mummification. What? The evil drag-along bumble bee undead?
Big Bellied Seahorse (the actual common name) at the Aquarium of Discovery.
Dean, of course, found the most fabulous restaurant for lunch called Barcelona across from the park. A cafe where we had homemade soup and I had a peking duck salad. Oh, but Dean... He had what the menu referred to as "Duck Parfait". Which turned out to be cooked duck liver served chilled with fresh warm bread to spread it on and mild peppers to go on top. Dean turned to me and said, don't speak to me, really, this is so wonderful I'm incapable of conversation. When the waitress served us (in this completely empty restaurant), she joked about pulling up a chair because we were eating her favorite foods. Dean even considered ordering a second plate of the duck parfait.
We wandered by the art museum with its installation of 10 stainless steel canoes that apparently every full moon, they get up on ladders and reposition, but didn't go in. We took the trolley in its loop around downtown.
Eventually we ended up at a restaurant called "Cooking with Gas" with enormous natural gas torches out front, in case you missed the pun. Where the food was good, the beer was better, and the wine — odd. I've never had a Sauvignon Blanc wine that tasted of bell peppers before.
The next morning, our flight was midday which meant we didn't have enough time to do anything. So, we checked out and took our luggage to the airport and walked over to the International Antarctic Centre which sounded (from a distance) vaguely amusing. Apparently Christchurch being the nearest sizable airport to the South Pole, this is where the planes and ships of scientists come in and out, so they have a museum set up. Oh, my goodness, it was designed for 9 year olds that have been locked in a closet reading Earnest Shackleton stories. There were a long line of people waiting for the opportunity to put on a heavy coat that had been worn by several hundred people already that day and go into a room where they dimmed the lights, turned the temperature down to zero and kicked on fans. The purpose of this being so that you could experience Antarctic winter. At this point, I hadn't been warm in 3 weeks, so I passed.
Let me put it this way, most of the placards with the explanations were at the 3 foot level so that children could read them. It was the hokiest "child-friendliest" (if your child is a complete geek who's regularly beat to a pulp on the school ground) place on the planet.
This is an exhibit of the industrial snowmobiles they use at the south pole, designed in Scandinavia, next to an exhibit of how modern explorers travel to the south pole on skis, pulling sleds and sleeping in tents.
And that was New Zealand.
