Siobhan Downes.
Is it possible to write a travel story about Christchurch without mentioning the earthquake, asks
One of my favourite places in the world is Hiroshima, Japan. As the first city to be destroyed by a nuclear weapon, it’s a place that will be forever linked with disaster. Which is a shame, because Hiroshima is beautiful, vibrant, and thriving.
Sometimes I wonder if Christchurch will suffer the same fate. Five years on, and the earthquake remains the focus of every travel story I read about the city. I was there for a weekend and was curious to find out if it was possible to write a travel story that doesn’t mention the earthquake. I wanted to know if you could enjoy Christchurch as a visitor - not a disaster tourist.
It was my first time there since 2012, when cordons still encircled the ruptured central city.
This time, I was smack-bang in the middle of it, staying at the Heritage hotel, a grand old dame of a building off Cathedral Square that survived the quakes virtually unscathed.
I’m not going to lie - my initial reaction was shock.
The broken cathedral sits directly opposite the hotel. The sight of it made my breath catch in my throat. It was eerily similar to the empty shell of Hiroshima’s A-Bomb dome, the building that stood at the epicentre of the explosion in 1945, and remains to this day.
It takes a little while, but like eyes adjusting to the dark, you start looking beyond the ruins. You start to see something special. No other New Zealand city has so many people wandering around with cameras.
I don’t think it’s rubbernecking. There’s a genuine desire to capture and preserve the changing city. There’s so much to see. Amid the shades of grey, you might come across a secret urban garden. Or you might look up to see a wall covered in penguins.
Things to do? I found plenty to recommend. It seems like the whole city shows up to the far mers’ market at Riccarton House on a Saturday morning. It’s one of the most picturesque markets I’ve ever walked through, set on a riverbank with the historic homestead as its backdrop.
I also loved the Botanic Gardens. The daffodils were in bloom along the Avon River. I bought a big sticky slice of tan square in the light-filled ilex Cafe, and sat in the sun enjoying it.
Shopping? Wellingtonians were pretty excited about the new David Jones opening in the capital, but Cantabrians are fiercely proud of their beloved Ballantynes. My flatmate told me I had to check it out.
‘‘It’s just been through so much,’’ she said, as though she was talking about a close friend.
I spent the first night wining and dining my way along New Regent St, and the next on Victoria St. Walking back to the hotel, I passed the infamous Dance-o-Mat. Teenagers in baggy pants had plugged an iPod into the converted washing machine, and were practising their moves as the beat blasted into the night.
There are little messages of support sprinkled like glitter over Christchurch. My favourite wall has these words written on it: ‘‘I always knew you would come back.’’
The writer travelled as a guest of Heritage Hotels, Christchurch & Canterbury Tourism, and Jetstar.