Wandering, Not Wondering

By the time the airport shuttle bus dropped me off in the City, it was already getting dark, and a steady torrent of rain had soaked me before I’d even hoisted my bag onto my back. I had no accommodation booked and I was by myself, but I wasn’t overly worried- figuring it out as you went along was all part of the adventure, right? Besides, I was in New Zealand’s second largest city; there would be plenty of hostels to choose from.

Looking back, it seems ridiculous that I would head to Christchurch just 3 weeks after a devastating earthquake had struck, leaving the city destroyed and killing 185 people. But, at the time, as the last of the apples were picked, and work slowly dried up on the orchards, I headed down to the South Island for a reception job I’d been offered in Christchurch. The last $300 in my bank account was enough of a push to make me brave the rubble-strewn streets.

Regardless of the graphic video footage I’d seen on the News, nothing could prepare me for the scene that lay ahead of me as the shuttle bus driver drove off into the night. “Don’t leave me!” my inner voice cried after him. Luckily the braver side of me took over, and I took a deep breath and looked around me. I started to panic.

A building that was possibly once a hotel was now spilling itself out onto the pavement. Ominous-looking cracks had torn open the roads. Scaffolding was hastily assembled amongst the precarious buildings. I felt like I’d walked onto a set of a sci-fi movie, particularly when I saw army soldiers guarding the street corners. If the experience hadn’t been surreal enough up until now, seeing the outline of a freaking tank ahead of me definitely did the trick. Snapping out of my horrified trance, I started shuffling along the road to the nearest hostel.

“You didn’t book? Oh mate, sorry, not a chance. But if you get stuck, come back here. We’ll have a sofa for you if you need it.”

That was my first encounter with a Christchurch resident, and it was an attitude that I saw in people throughout my time in that City, and the reason I ended up staying for 13 months. The more broken this city became, the stronger the community. It’s a place I wanted to be, despite the mess it has become. It felt like home in a place that was very much the opposite. For a traveller, that feeling is rare and was something to hold on to.

Plus, it gave me the opportunity for some terrific puns, like my Facebook album after a night of snow. “The icing on the Quake”. Amazing.