May 2025 – Where is Phil now?

Christchurch

Christchurch, New Zealand – Sunday 23 March 2025

We have two nights in the same place for the first time in five nights and, as we’re staying with old friends of mine, it’s a good opportunity to unwind, unpack and throw some clothes into their washing machine.

As I will be moving around via public transport a bit more than Eleanor and Paula will be, I’m using my trusty travelling back pack, the one I started my travels with 13 years ago. The backpack means I’m carrying fewer clothes than they are and the next time I have more than one night in the same place is in three countries and five days’ time, in Delhi.

My friends lost their house to the tragic 2011 earthquake (earthquakes seem to becoming a trend on this trip, which I’ve just noticed, and is completely accidental) and it wasn’t rebuilt until 2016. It was rebuilt almost exactly as it had been, and has been decorated wonderfully. It’s such a funky place and I’m so glad they could rebuild back to how it used to be and so glad they had room for the three of us to stay.

I only visited Christchurch once after the earthquake, before I left New Zealand at the end of the same year. That was with work for a quick trip from the airport out to the production centre for the printing company I worked for and then back to the airport and home to Auckland. I haven’t seen the inner city in the 14 years since then. A lot of the centre has been completely rebuilt, though there is still work to be done. The city looks pretty good, though of course that has come at a huge cost; financially, politically, socially and emotionally.

We started our day at the new art gallery (free parking for us). We drove past a very nice bit of brutalist architecture that I promised myself I would come back to when I return to Christchurch on Wednesday after separating from Eleanor and Paula in Dunedin. Annoyingly I couldn’t find it!

I liked the gallery, it’s modern and bright and the rooms are well spaced and paced and there were some good pieces. I particularly liked ‘The Civil Servant’ (at least I think that is what it was called, I can’t find anything on the internet).

We left the gallery and walked around the new centre of the city. So much of the area was destroyed in the earthquake that there are still buildings waiting to be safely demolished and numerous building sites and blank spaces where buildings once stood.

The city has supported some fantastic murals, some of them massive, as part of the rebuild. It’s really pleasing to see authorities embrace the value that high quality large works of art on buildings can bring. When I go back, which I will, I will do a proper street art and brutalist building photo walk.

The spire of the cathedral collapsed in the quake. It was the spiritual centre of the city and a well loved building. There have been discussions and plans and court cases and challenges of court case results for years, and there has not yet been an agreed plan as to what to do with the cathedral and the land it sits on. Sadly it’s still fenced off as the remaining structure is deemed unsafe.

We walked through the new shopping precinct so I could visit the bookshop as I’m trying to find a couple of New Zealand music books: Boodle, Boodle, Boodle (the making of the EP by The Clean) and Peter Jefferies’ The Other Side of Reason, neither of which I found anywhere in NZ. I also wanted to visit the new Flying Nun Records shop. Tempted as I was, I didn’t buy anything.

We lunched in the new Riverside food court, which was not dissimilar to any of the modern, independent food courts we have visited in other countries or parts of the UK. There was a wide range of interesting choices, with all the usual international flavours represented. I had a Thai dish and it was very nice, as was the local ale I washed the food down with.

After lunch we were driven to the airport where Paula collected the rental car she will drive us around in for the next few days. We returned to our friends’ house and then were driven up into the Port Hills that overlook the city and separate it from its harbour at Lyttleton. The Port Hill road was badly damaged in the earthquake and sections of the road remain closed, and will never be reopened to cars. It made for a nice walk, and there is a good view down to Lyttleton, where we visited next.

Up here you can still see the damage that the quake caused, with bits of road just hanging off the cliff.

It was nice to see the famous cable car is back in operation.

Lyttleton is a small town, part bohemian and part port worker. It’s a nice town and after a very short walk to see the sights we stopped for a drink in a very nice little bar with a decent soundtrack going.

On the way back to our friends’ house we drove through the eastern part of Christchurch where a number of suburbs had stood alongside the River Avon before the earthquake. All that is there now are a few trees and the drop sections of footpaths that used to be the start of a driveway. The entire suburbs has been bulldozed and will never be rebuilt as the ground is just too unstable. All those people moved from their homes. So sad. It was a stark reminder of the recent history of this city, and the work that has been done to repair the damage and the soul of the place.

Blenheim to Christchurch on the scenic train

Christchurch, New Zealand – Saturday 22 March 2025

The cost of picking up a rental car in one location and dropping it off in another is just sheer lunacy, at least it is in New Zealand, I’ve not done it anywhere else. When I was planning this holiday I discovered the cost of renting a car in Picton, where we got off the ferry from the North Island, and leaving it in Christchurch where we all flew out from, was five times the price of just renting and dropping in Christchurch itself.

Luckily, there is a fantastic train between Blenheim, where we stayed last night, and Christchurch. The train is a scenic tourist train and is therefore not cheap, but even for the three of us it was still less than half the difference in the car rental. It was a no brainer really.

There is only one train a day, in the early afternoon, so we killed the morning over a leisurely breakfast in a café not too far from the motel. There isn’t much to Blenheim town centre and I think we saw most of it when we walked there for dinner last night. We did a quick circuit of the town centre then waited for the train over a glass of local pinot gris in the station.

The train arrived a few minutes late and was, surprisingly, but not surprisingly, pulled by a big old diesel engine. Which did make sense when we started slowly grinding up through hills towards the coast on the single train line that runs from Picton down towards Christchurch.

The train was full and I would guess that we were almost the youngest people on the train, which was mostly full of foreign tourists like us. There were definitely some Americans, we could hear them.

As this is a scenic train, the main carriages had larger windows than normal, but the best feature for me was an open carriage which meant no window reflection.

The one downside to the open air carriage was that it was right behind the engine and the diesel fumes got quite oppressive when the train was slowly winding up hills or through speed restricted tunnels. When the train was at full pace there was plenty of wind-blown hair action going on.

The train line mostly follows State Highway 1 all the way from Blenheim to Christchurch, and we were soon grinding our way very slowly up and over the bone-dry Wither Hills. It was a spectacular start to the journey.

I spent a lot of time standing in the outside carriage, occasionally with a glass of wine in hand. I was shocked to see so many other passengers sleeping, or reading or worse – staring into their phones. The early stages of the journey were spectacular, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the countryside.

Admittedly it is a five and a half hour journey and there were some dull bits as we worked our way through the farmland of North Canterbury, but crikey – how could you not be looking out the window at the start!

Once through the hills and passing through the small town of Seddon, we were on the coast which we followed the rest of the way, criss-crossing with the highway all the way south. This was taken through the window from inside the carriage.

It’s remarkable that this train journey exists. A 7.8 magnitude earthquake near the coast devastated the land, the road and rail line in 2016. Fortunately this is a fairly rural area and the earthquake occurred in the middle of the night, meaning only two people lost their lives; tragic as that still is. The rail line was closed for two years and though the highway has been fully open for some time, there is still significant work to be done. I’m glad we weren’t in a car.

Past Kaikoura the view settles into the sea on the left hand side, flat farmland with snow capped mountains popping in and out of sight on the right. Small towns ‘flash’ past as the not particularly fast train rumbles on through.

We cross some spectacular riverbed/flood plains on extremely long bridges. I was sitting in the cabin when I took this one through the window.

Soon enough we were pulling into Christchurch Station, slightly late as the train in front was on the single platform. Hard to believe this is the second biggest city in New Zealand! We were met on the platform by an old friend, who we are staying with for the two nights we’re in town.

The journey is fantastic and highly recommended if you’re looking for an alternative way of travelling from Picton to Christchurch or one of the stops in-between.

Cook Strait crossing

Blenheim, New Zealand – Friday, 21 March 2025

The Interislander Ferry left it’s berth in Wellington Harbour on time, at 8:45am. We’d arrived as requested at 7:45 for an airline style check-in and the big bags were taken off our hands and stowed somewhere on the ship where they store big bags. It was great not having to lug them around. The ferry is pretty big, it’s a vehicle ferry and it was full of all sorts of vehicles and all sorts of people.

We had an average breakfast and a terrible coffee as soon as we got on board, then discovered the proper café and got a much nicer coffee once we were settled and on the way out of the harbour. We wanted to beat the rush for food, but patience should have been exercised instead. I was desperate for a caffeine fix mind as the machine in the ‘departure lounge’ wasn’t working.

We were lucky with the weather; it was a stunner of a day, warm, calm and clear. Everything you want for a crossing of the Cook Strait, the band of water between New Zealand’s North and South Islands. We were heading south, across the strait and down through the Marlborough Sounds to Picton; about 3 hours and 30 minutes away. It’s about 93 kilometres in total, with two thirds being inside the sounds.

Eleanor and I have done the journey before, but I was keen to share it with Paula, as on a good day like today, it’s a stunner of a trip. It lived up to the reputation I’d given it as well.

The ferry sort of hugs the southern coast of the North Island for a while, providing some great views of the rugged coast line. I spent a lot of time on this part of the journey trying to spot dolphin pods, or even better whales; but sadly, other than a few seagulls, there was no other wildlife to see today.

As we approach the top of the South Island it is almost impossible to see the narrow entrance to the sounds from the strait and it sort of pops into view at the last minute.

The highlight was undoubtedly the final hour navigating through the stunning Marlborough Sounds. The water turned a deep turquoise as we weaved between the hills that plunged dramatically into the sea. Small isolated homes appeared occasionally along the shoreline, accessible only by boat.

As we approached Picton we carved through a monstrous pod (swarm? herd?) of jellyfish.

I’d tried to arrange a shuttle ride from the port in Picton the thirty or so kilometres to Blenheim, where I’d booked us into a motel for the night. I thought the booking had failed, but the driver was waiting for us with a sign with my name on it as we got off the ferry and collected our bags. It was an expensive ride.

We had a fairly simple motel, it was comfortable, quiet and perfectly fine. We weren’t planning on spending a lot of time in the rooms. The shuttle driver had recommended the St Clair Vineyard for lunch so we took a taxi there and were lucky to get a table – only because we’d booked ahead just before leaving the motel. It was very busy.

Marlborough is wine country and there are a significant number of vineyards in the surrounding area. Some brands, like Cloudy Bay, are very well known in the UK. I think it would be fair to say that sauvignon blanc is the primary grape variety grown here. Marlborough sauv blanc is available in most places in the world that sell wine.

St Clair wasn’t a wine producer I’d heard of before so I was keen to sample some of their product. We’re not huge fans of sauvignon blanc, much preferring the pinot gris variety of white wine. We also like a gewürztraminer, which is less well known in New Zealand, though St Clair had a very nice one.

Fortunately the vineyard only allows bookings for a couple of hours so we were turfed out nice and early. I could have sat there in the sun drinking cold wine and eating cheese for hours; though would have been broke and a bit ‘under the weather’ if that had happened.

Our South Island adventure was off to a cracking good start.

The ‘art deco capital of the world’

Napier, New Zealand – Wednesday, 19 March 2025

When planning our New Zealand travels, Napier was high on the list – especially after missing it on our previous trip due to Covid restrictions. What makes this city particularly fascinating for me is its remarkable architectural story, born from a terrible (and probably terrifying) event.

On 3 February 1931, Napier experienced a catastrophic 7.8 magnitude earthquake that lasted just 2.5 minutes but completely transformed the city. The earthquake tragically killed 256 people and almost totally destroyed the city centre, as well as causing severe damage to residential areas and the surrounding countryside.

By 1933, Napier had completely reinvented itself as an art deco city. Embracing current design trends, with a local flavour, the city was rebuilt from the ground up. Remarkably, much of that 1930s rebuild remains behind and walking through the city centre today feels like stepping into a perfectly preserved 1930s film set.

With over 140 well preserved art deco buildings, the city now markets itself as the “Art Deco Capital of the World.” I would love to visit when they properly celebrate this and ban all those pesky modern cars that park in front of all the interesting bits.

We arrived in Napier after a 5 hour drive from Rotorua, and with only an afternoon in town we were out looking at buildings soon after dropping our bags in the motel, which was directly over the road from the beach. It’s always relaxing being near the sea.

We loved Napier, and I wish we’d had more time to just walk around the city centre and admire the beautifully maintained buildings under a nice blue sky. There is a (mostly) friendly vibe here.

I took a lot of photos as we walked.

It’s a small city centre and with little time we focused on the central streets. There are a couple of locations away from the business and commercial centre, though we didn’t really have time to visit them. I would have liked to have seen some of the residential properties. I’ve saved those for next time.

Late afternoon we stopped for a drink and a sit down at Community Burgers, a really nice little bar that I would’ve been very content spending more time in if I hadn’t had a burger for dinner last night. A rare bar playing decent music.

Walking back to the motel for a break before convening again for dinner, we had the only unpleasant moment of the entire trip. We got engaged in a random conversation with an oldish man, who stopped us on the street. He was clearly drunk or on something, and it started off being just a bit weird but moved on to him making an extremely racist comment, at which point we left the conversation. This resulted in him telling us to ‘F off’ and us returning the compliment, before heading off in different directions.

Luckily, we only let it ruin our day for a few minutes, and after a planned rest, we walked to the beautiful Masonic Hotel for a very nice dinner and a settling glass of wine, or three.