Nearing the beginning of the next journey

There is a sign (advertisement) in the Christchurch airport that reads "The end of every journey marks the beginning of the next one".  So on Wednesday (I think) we started approaching the beginning of the next journey.  Because that's way better than thinking that we are nearing the end of this journey.

Let me start with the morning after Mount Cook.  So sad to have to leave such a beautiful place.  So tempted to stay an extra half a day, go back up to the mountain in the hopes of seeing it in full daylight, so worth missing the Maori experience that is already booked and paid for in Christchurch for that evening.  But the chances of seeing it cloud free the second day in a row is, we know, very slim indeed.  So we press on, and leave Twizel, and our friend Ian, for a long drive back to Christchurch.

Driving across the country shows us yet another landscape, and the sky is blue with incredible clouds, it is very warm and very windy, and the driving is easy on relatively "flat" and "straight" roads.  Comparatively speaking anyway.  We do find a scenic lookout, and interestingly, one of the best photos of the day comes from looking in the opposite direction.

For the most part, this is a bit of a lunchbag letdown after the scenery we've been seeing for the last couple of weeks. It's still beautiful, just in a much different way.

Driving back into Christchurch, things seem familiar, and at the same time, it feels like it has been weeks since we were last here.  As we approach the hotel, we recognize many of the places our friend Ed showed us a few days ago, the Transitional Church, the tram, New Regent Street where we had coffee while trying to warm up and get dry.  That day it had been very cool and rainy, but today it's sunny and very warm, about 28 C.  No time to think about that, we have booked a package at Willowbank Nature Reserve, complete with a Kiwi tour, a Maori welcome and Haka and Hangi meal.  It starts at 4:30 and we have to battle rush hour traffic.  Which seems incredibly odd considering how little traffic we've had to contend with in the past week or more.

The Nature Reserve is a bit like a miniature African Lion Safari, with great learning programs for kids, very focused on conservation and also on making visitors feel that they are in an authentic environment.  It feels a a bit like we are walking through rainforest or jungle.  After meeting a number of  long-fin eels, several Kea (one of who tried to bite my butt, and another who tried to steal Linda's new necklace while sitting on her shoulder), a Tuatara, and a kiwi, we are treated to a traditional Maori welcoming ceremony, complete with chants and a scary looking chief.  This is followed by a very interesting musical performance and a real haka chant, then a wonderful Hangi meal (food cooked in pots that are buried in coals and earth for several hours), topped with New Zealand Pavlova and Hokey Pokey ice cream.  Tired and happy, we make our way back to the hotel, have a quick glass of wine and hit the sack.  

We had planned to meet our friend Ed for breakfast early this morning, so I got up as early as possible, and just barely caught the sunrise.  The room faces the largest area of devastation from the last earthquake, an area that used to be full of buildings, some of them very tall, that have since been cleared away, leaving an empty hole in the middle of the city where bustling activity used to be.  There are efforts being made to rebuild, but it's going to take a long time I think.  The emptiness and void were very glaring in the early morning light.

We have a wondeful breakfast with Ed, during which we recount our adventures of the past week and a bit, both Linda and I admit a desire to return and hit all the things we missed.  I love the smiles we get from him as we describe the places we saw, some of which he didn't even know about.  Now he is also keen to visit the Maoraki town lighthouse and The Chasm near Milford Sound.  So cool to inspire adventure in someone else.

All too soon it's time to hug farewell, vow to stay in touch, and then part ways.  Since the day has shaped up to be a deliciously warm and sunny day, we decide to revisit some of the places we saw with Ed in the rain.  The old church that was destroyed, and the 185 Chairs memorial.  It's a very different view of things, especially when I realize that all the chairs are facing the "temporary" Transitional Church (a.k.a. the Cardboard Church).  

A tiny bit more shopping in New Regent Street, and then it's time to return the rental car, 3,563 km after we picked it up.  We realize that we have driven in the past 12 days a distance equivalent to Niagara Falls to Calgary.  That doesn't include the miles we were passengers with Gary and Bridget, or with Ian.  Or the miles to get here to this unbelievable country.  

The statue at the Christchurch airport is stunning with the blue sky and green grass reflected in it.  I do a facebook live video and share this with everyone who might be interested by walking all around it.  

All too soon it's time to check our bags and head to Wellington.  The flight is quick, only 35 minutes.  But it's almost dinner time, and although it feels like we've already had a long day, we're hungry.  There's a burger joint not far, and we discover Cuba St. on our way.  After a great burger at BurgerFuel, we explore Cuba St. more carefully.  Most of it is closed off to traffic and is very multi-cultural.  Old buildings, some with date stones that go back more than a century (one was 1903), some art deco, and a Night Market that, if we had known about it, would have skipped the burgers.  There were street vendors all along from just about every country, street musicians, used book stores and vintage clothing stores.

Nothing fancy, but everyone there was having a good time, and we were no exception.  I introduce Linda to churros, and although already stuffed from excellent burgers, we delight in the freshly made cinnamon sugar twists with caramel sauce.

The topping on the cake (yes, even better than churros because there were no calories) was a young man playing a hanging drum - what are the odds?  We had just seen someone in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago playing this unique and hauntingly beautiful instrument, and now we see someone else playing, just as beautifully.  We contribute to his "hat" and learn that he is from Sweden, and as we are chatting with him, another couple approach and ask if he would be interested in working with them in their recording studio as they were looking for interesting and unusual musicians.  Fantastic.

I really do not want this to end, but tomorrow we will fly out, and I will have to catch up when we get home in a couple of days.  It will be time to start a new journey.