Sunday, 4 January 2015

5 January 2015 - Papanui RSA, North Christchurch



I woke to the delightful sound of bellbirds this morning, something one would expect to hear near  native bush rather than an orchard full of chestnut trees. Once breakfast was over and we were ready to leave at the drop of a hat if required, Chris applied himself to the list of dentist’s telephone numbers, striking gold with the first. He secured an appointment for the end of the day and so we then set about organising the time in between. 

We headed north to Kaiapoi, about ten kilometres to the north, calling first into the laundry. relocated since we called six years or so, now in a temporary building adjacent to the river. The laundry was in a poor state of cleanliness, a fact that was later explained and forgiven, however we proceeded with operations, now almost automatic after all these years of using public facilities. 

Plan A had allowed for us to stay on at the Mousehole, and hang wet washed laundry on lines between the chestnuts, but the secured appointment for the same day had put paid to that. We now realised we would have to use the dryers and these were also in an unacceptable state however once I dug the centimetres of lint and dirt from the filters, we were under way. But on attempting to start the dryers on a third cycle, I lost several $2 coins into the insatiable machines, insatiable and immobile. 
We rang the telephone number on the door and waited, and waited, and waited some more. Finally the proprietress arrived and explained the temperamental nature of the particular dryer, refunded some of the lost coins and proceeded to recount her life’s woes which explained so much but dried the washing no quicker than it would have had we returned to the orchard and allowed it to dry in the hot breezes of the day.

Finally we got away, with laundry dry enough to finish airing on the bed, and decided to head for the boat ramp on the Kaiapoi River rather than head to the supermarket. We reminded each other of the rule: Never shop on an empty stomach. We lunched watching fishermen return from fruitless outings and others venture out on the less busy waters; less busy than yesterday. The streets followed to arrive at the boat ramp were incredibly uneven and all through Red Zoned areas of the town, decimated by the earthquake and the resulting liquefaction. Sections now cleared of dwellings, surrounded by high security fencing, but left with garden plantings and the rehabilitating weeds and red poppies, the latter a rather poignant symbol of the disaster, gave evidence of the extensive nature of the disaster in this part of the city, albeit a northern satellite town of Christchurch.

Back near the town centre, we called first at the Information Centre and spent some time chatting with helpful Gwen who was keen to book us on tours we inquired about. Alas, all seemed too expensive for perpetual travellers such as ourselves, and most were fully booked for the next few months which is all good news for Christchurch and the local economy.

I had been intrigued by the fact that the New World which was relatively new when we were last here about six years ago, seemed unscathed by the earthquake. The reality is that it was indeed affected but at the time of the worst of the quakes, work on extensions was being carried out, and since workmen were already on the job, and obviously insurance matters were in hand, the damage was quickly remedied and all local staff were reemployed with little economic pain. The pain is now with the consumer who seems to pay above the odds for the produce within. Our list was a long one and we should have left most of it for a Pak’n Save or Countdown elsewhere, but we did not, in some misdirected concern and sympathy for this community which has suffered so; we filled our trolley and paid the price.

We called at the local Challenge Station sporting an invitation to refill LPG cylinders but were turned away; the proprietor said it was too hot for safe refilling. This baffled us no end because we had gas cylinders refilled in far hotter temperatures in Australia.

We continued on, led by our Tomtom to suss out the location of the dental clinic, then came on to this RSA Club which welcomes self-contained NZMCA financial members. We decided that one could easily walk from one location to the other and settled into camp, paying the requested fee. This we like, a set fee for camping; we are left with no obligation to patronise the club which invariably leads one to spend far more than one would if one were to stay at a commercial camping ground; it defeats the purpose entirely. 

At the appointed hour we walked the kilometre or so up in the hot sunshine to the clinic where Chris had his tooth repaired and the pain transferred from the tooth to the credit card. We then decided that the Thai Restaurant at the entrance to the club needed patronising, so took ourselves there once Chris changed his shorts for jeans and I, my walking sandals for high heels. Our meal was delightful and we returned to our camp well fed, mellow and satisfied we now had only to pursue pleasurable activities here in Christchurch.

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