Christchurch and the Banks Peninsula

Christchurch and the Banks Peninsula

We all went out for a meal on the pier at New Brighton the evening we got back and on the Wednesday we went into the city to meet up with a friend of Margot’s from London who happened to be in Christchurch on holiday the same day as us.

After lunch we went to the Cantebury Museum, passing on the way the Dyslexia Centre which had set out a garden / sculpture on its front lawn attempting to convey the frustration of being dyslexic in a society unable or unwilling to understand it, and also to celebrate the achievements of dyslexic. It was very powerful and a good use of a very small space even if the majority of the population walked by without really noticing it.

After the Museum we walked out of the centre looking for the house Margot had lived in. When we found the street it was clear that most of it had been re-developed with blocks of flats, with the sole exception of Margot’s old house complete with magnolia tree in the front yard. Walking back to the bus station the heavens opened and we got completely drenched but it was not too cold so ‘no worries’.

As it happened, Hugh was off to a reunion in Auckland that weekend but he very kindly let us stay in his house and have the use of his car. So, the following morning, we dropped Hugh off at the airport and carried on round the Banks Peninsula to Akaroa.

Akaroa

Akaroa is another fine example of Albion at its most perfidious. It was the French who first ‘discovered’ this large sheltered bay and deemed it suitable for settlement. They just popped home to get some settlers and supplies to get them started but six days before they got back, the British nipped in and ran up a flag claiming for the Crown. The French settlers, having come all that way, decided to stay anyway and took up British citizenship. So, although very much a part of New Zealand, this little town has French street names and a few residents who can trace their ancestry back to France.

Nowadays of course it is mainly a gimmick to attract visitors and they go to the extent of bringing in French back-packers to work in the cafes to provide the authentic accents. Nevertheless it’s a lovely little place with lots of early settlers cottages now beautifully restored, and it is a fantastic harbour.

We drove back over the Summit Road, which lives up its name, in a gale force wind which had the car rocking as we snaked around the narrow barrier–free road before dropping back down to sea level. At Little River we noticed a cycle track, Sustrans style, on the old railway line that crossed the salt marches on the edge of Lake Ellesmere and resolved to return the following day.

Rather than re-trace our steps we took the direct route from Litle River over the mountains to Lyttleton , the port town where we had had coffee a couple of weeks before. We had noticed Satchmos’ an interesting looking jazz/bar/restaurant and this time had a really pleasant meal there before driving back through the tunnel to Christchurch.

Little River Cycle Track

The next day being Saturday we drove back over the mountains to Little River and hired a couple of bikes from the local garage. Before starting off we had brunch at the next door café cum art gallery which had some beautiful stuff but too heavy and costly for us to do anything but look. Little River is on an inletl and the path starts off down a track protected on both sides by large willow trees. Unfortunately the previous days storm ahad taken down a number of branches. Instantly founding a new unit of "Sustrans sans Frontieres" Peter started off clearing away some of the branches but soon we came up against an entire tree blocking the path and had to detour through the undergrowth, neglecting to bring our chainsaw with us.

The inlet soon broadened out with the sea to the left and the railway track turning right and heading off across the edge of the enormous inland Lake Ellesmere which disappears over the horizon. With water on both sides the track is a haven for birdlife and we saw stilts, oystercatchers, grebes and herons. We did about 14 kilometers before stopping at an old quarry site for our picnic lunch before heading back. Peter took a quick sprint out to see the beach but it was very gravelly and steep so not very tempting for a swim.

We came back across the mountains again but instead of coming through the tunnel we went back over the top, stopping to watch the para-gliders and walk around the headland to visit the old gun emplacements that were built to defend the harbour at the start of the last war. Back home to take in the last minute washes and pack ready to pick up our next relocation at 9am at the airport