NZ Train Journey, Day Three: On to Christchurch

A beginning note: There are no new pictures (or video) for this entry. I have already posted what I have from this time (train stuff). Other than that, the day was lousy and rainy, and that doesn't put me in a picture-taking mood. Get over it. In better news, I think this entry is pretty damn literary. Enjoy.

Very proud of myself for staying in and getting up early, I packed my things, had a quick breakfast at the hostel cantina, then walked across the street to the train station to catch the early shuttle to the ferry terminal. I was taking one of the InterIslander ferries, included on my two-week rail pass. These ferries are HUGE and make the crossing of the Cook Strait about a dozen times a day, carrying all manner of other vehicles across with them. It felt very much like being on a cruise ship, except without a cabin. However, there were plenty of lounges, a bar, and a food court. There were also three different outside viewing areas, but the weather was pretty miserable, so I only went outside as we entered the Marlborough Sounds (see previous pics and video) and then docked in Picton.

I lied - one pic, so you can see how shitty and rainy it was.

I only stayed in Picton long enough to have lunch, walk the downtown, and do some quick intertubing at the local library (these things are always centrally located and easy to find - lovely). I had not booked anywhere to stay in Christchurch (from here on out - Chch) because I had an offer of a place to stay from a fellow American that I met at the Verandah backpacker lodge in Auckland. She is an architect, guest-professoring at the University of Auckland while living in Chch and commuting by plane between the two every week. In Chch she lives with a little old lady with extra rooms for rent. Anyway, was planning on staying there, but as of Picton still didn't have any messages letting me in on where this little old lady had an address. Though I could have booked something from Picton, I decided to risk it and hop on the train without making other arrangements.

Though I slept through a bit of it, the train journey from Picton was gorgeous - lush wooded hills wrapped in mist, valleys full of vineyards, and long stretches where the track was hard against the Pacific, squeezed up next to the huge Kaikoura mountains, plunging right into the sea (again, see previous pics and video). Just after the mountains, we made a stop in a little beach town and excursion point called Kaikoura, after the mountains. It sits at the neck of a little headland and is famous as a spot to see marine mammals - seals, whales, dolphins, etc. I decided that I'd definitely have to stop here for a night or two on the way back. After Kaikoura were more tunnels and mountains, hills, valleys, and sheep farms, until finally things flattened out into the Canterbury Plains - the largest expanse of flat land in New Zealand. Here we passed over several braided river beds. These plains were built from sediment washed by these braided rivers out of New Zealand's Southern Alps (much like the South's Piedmont coastal plain was long ago washed out of the Appalachians). Of course all the rivers have interesting Maori names. I'm kicking myself because I cannot find it now, but one river's name I swear translates to "Place Where the Dead Bodies are Piled High, for Eating." Yes, that was quite something to hear on the train's recorded audio commentary - and yes, that comma is there because the narrator quite obviously paused before finishing the translation.

Arriving in Christchurch was very different from arriving in Wellington. Wellington's station is part of a large regional network of commuter trains and lets you off right in the center of things. Chch's station is small and well outside the city center. It is also tucked back behind a suburban shopping center of strip malls and big box stores (friends and family will know how pleased this detail will make me). Still, I figured that I could walk to the CBD, find some internet access, and figure out if I was staying with architect and granny, or if I'd need to book a hostel. My understanding of Chch was off, to say the least. Way off.  First, the walk from the station to the CBD was MUCH longer than I'd estimated. My map was quite misleading because the main city park is HUGE and blocks in Chch are large as well - so my judging of distances from the map was skewed (what's that? look at the scale?). Finally I got to the inside edge of the park, adjacent to where the CBD should be, but I wasn't seeing any open cafes or anywhere else that I might find internet access. A city bus was sitting at a stop with the door open, so I decided to seek some info from the driver.

Poking my head in the open door of the empty bus, I ventured, "Excuse me?"

The bus driver replied, "You're excused."

Really, Christchurch? That's how it's gonna be?

Actually, I think the bus driver felt bad for that juvenile retort, because after that she was quite helpful, directing me towards the nearby YMCA, where I could use the internet and maybe book lodging if necessary. Finally I got out of the drizzle (did I not mention it was raining this whole time?) and was able to check my email. Still no instructions to grandma's house. Sigh. I decided I'd just stay at the YMCA. Nope. Booked up. So were the next five places that I called. This is a good spot to mention that this day was the one-year anniversary of the second earthquake to rock Christchurch - the one that did the real damage. Apparently it knocked out a lot of hotels and hostels as well, and oh yeah, then there's all the people in town on rebuild work. A little supply and demand problem. Finally, I did find a spot at a hostel, but not in a private room. I didn't care. I took it. Another good trudge and I was at "At the Right Place" hotel and hostel - I kid you not. And it was a pretty good place, I must say.

Basically I got a spot in a shed of sorts - not part of the hotel and not attached to the main hostel either, though hostel-style in that it had 5 beds in it (two bunks and a single). That ended up being good, as its separation meant that noise from the common room in the main hostel did not reach. After settling my things I went to that common room to see what was up. There was a motley crew there, as usual in a hostel - people of various nationalities and ages, most younger but not all. This is what I like about hostels - the meeting of new people, sharing of stories, and figuring out what activities we can enjoy together and pass the time with (number one thing I don't like - figuring out who might have enough criminal intent to steal my stuff). I sat at a table and made friends with fellow Dutch, Belgian, Irish, and American travellers in the span of about 15 minutes. We played a little cards, after figuring out what was missing and re-labelling the jokers, but then decided that our time might be better spent finding beer THEN playing cards. It was raining a bit more now, but the Irish and American lads convinced me to go out on safari (which would need no convincing a few years ago).

I'm going to truncate this tale and just say that we bonded by walking for 40 minutes to a grocery store (after various misadventures finding out where this store might be), bought some booze, walked outside to find it pouring rain, and decided that a cab was worth it for the trip back. Then we played cards, drank said booze, and told stories. More later...