Tag: Shell

Makara Beach

Makara Beach, New Zealand – June 10, 2018

A couple of weekends ago, as Leslie and I were driving to the parking area for Red Rocks, I saw a sign that piqued my interest; “wind turbine.” The words were on a sign in the Brooklyn neighborhood. It was a brown sign which implies an attraction. I wanted to go for a walk, and I thought that might be interesting.

I began to look at Mr. Google’s map to see the location of the wind turbine. After I found it, I remembered seeing a wind turbine farm from the air when returning from one of my trips. I thought seeing several wind turbines at one time would be more interesting than just seeing one. Looking around some more, I stumbled upon the town of Makara and Makara Beach. Since I love to walk on the beach, I decided that was the place to go.

Leslie did not feel like going with me, but she said I was welcome to go. I hopped in the car, told TomTom where I wanted to go and pulled out of the driveway.

By road, Makara Beach is only 30 kilometers (18 miles) from our home. The route TomTom chose sent me through the suburb of Johnsonville. When I reached Ohariu Valley Road, it was like I had left urban Wellington 100 kilometers behind. I instantly found my self in a green, fertile valley dotted with horse, cow, and sheep properties.

Several kilometers into the journey, the road name changes to Takarau Gorge Road. The emphasis should be on the word “gorge.” The road narrows down to the point that two vehicles can barely pass each other. There are several spots where the way is really only one-lane wide. At several locations, painted on the road, were the words “one-lane bridge.” I thought to myself that was an understatement since the entire way seemed to be one-lane. Regardless, even passing several cars driving the opposite direction, I made it through the Takarau Gorge unscathed.

The gorge is visually stunning. The Makara Stream adds to the picturesque feel of the canyon. If there had been places to pull off the road safely, I would have taken several photographs.

As I negotiated the final curve in the road before I saw the ocean, I noticed the house on the curve had a fence completely covered in paua shells. Since Leslie and I have such a fondness for paua shells, I knew I would need to photograph the fence. But first, I thought it was much more prudent to get a cup of coffee.

About 50 meters from the beach, I saw the Makara Beach Café. I drove to the beach, made a U-turn, and parked in front of the café. I was not quite sure if the restaurant was open, but then I saw several people with motorcycle helmets standing near the entrance drinking coffee. I got out of the car and walked to the service window.

The nicest woman, Philippa, was at the window. She took my order for a long black. While she was fulfilling the request, she talked to me about photography (she saw the camera around my neck). She also helped me hone my pronunciation of Makara. There was a distinct difference between her pronunciation and mine.

A portion of the Makara Beach Cafe patio. Note the motor scooter through the door, waiting to begin the rally.

Receiving my long black, I sat at one of the picnic tables in the patio area to enjoy the coffee. I noticed there were some repairs to the building underway. It was not until I returned home that I understood just what was happening. Back in late February, cyclone Gita made an unceremonious appearance on the west coast of the North Island. In a photograph on the Makara Beach Café Facebook page I saw just exactly what that meant (it is worth clicking on the link to see the devastation). Rocks from the beach and huge driftwood trees were tossed along the main road of the town, well past the café. It was apparent from the photograph that a lot of work went into returning the area to some sense of normalcy.

When I finished my coffee, I decided it was time to walk back to the home with the paua shell fence. As I walked the short distance, I noticed the people I had seen drinking coffee. They were standing near a group of motor scooters. I was able to work out that they were all participating in a rally. One by one, they came to the starting point, waited for the signal, and then departed the town. I continued my walk, took a couple of photographs, and then returned to my car to get my tripod.

I walked the few steps to the beach. Looking north along the coast, I did see the wind turbine farm. However, when I looked in the other direction, it appeared there were more photographic opportunities. I started off to my left.

View from Makara Beach toward the Makara Walkway.

Not far down the trail, I saw a sign. Two different Makara Walkways were delineated on the poster; one followed the coast while the other wound its way up the hillside to a World War II gun emplacement. I decided the upper route was the one for me.

About 400 meters along the trail, I stopped at a rock pillar formation. It made for an interesting subject for some photographs. After another 250 meters, I was at the point where the trail splits. Along the way, it was easy to see that Gita had compromised the path. At some places, there was no trail left, only the rocks of the beach.

The rock pillar and the wind turbine farm.

Heading up the trail, I soon came to the opening of a small valley. At the top of the valley was a lone wind turbine. I am not sure why there was only one while across the bay, there was an entire farm of wind turbines. During my stop to take some photos, a man and woman passed me. I ultimately turned to follow them. Soon, I came to yet another fork in the trail. The couple had gone left. I decided to go right.

The trail rose quickly. I stopped several times to wheeze. Ultimately, I made it to the top of the rise. The view from there was one of the best I have seen during our travels in New Zealand. I found myself on a reasonably steep clifftop. The cliff and hills continued toward the south. I could easily overlook Cook Strait and see the South Island. From my vantage point, I was mainly looking through Queen Charlotte Sound, toward the town of Picton.

I was interested in continuing the climb toward the wind turbine and the gun emplacement. However, the rock scrabble trail at this point looked a little iffy. Instead, I decided to concentrate on my photographs. I decided I would descend back to the fork in the trail when I finished with my camera work and continue up toward the wind turbine. As it turns out, when I got back to the fork, I was a bit tired. I also thought Leslie would be wondering why I was gone so long. With that in mind, I opted to walk back to Makara.

Arriving back in Makara, I decided to stop at the Makara Beach Café again to get a bottle of water. Philippa was still there. She sold me a large and wonderfully cold bottle of water. She is representative of the many Kiwis we have met, so very nice and friendly.

As I strolled back to my car with water in hand, I noticed a sign across the street that was not there when I arrived, “Makara Art Gallery.” I decided to cross the road and check it out. That was a pure stroke of luck. The art is by artist and illustrator Helen Casey. When I walked into the gallery, I saw several of her pieces on display. While I was looking, Helen entered the gallery. We began talking about her work and what precisely an illustrator does.

“Itchy” the seal. The work reminds Leslie and me of a seal we saw itching its back on a rock at Red Rocks.

Helen has done work for magazines, books, and art at several of the New World supermarkets. The work she had on display at the gallery is some of the most unique I have ever seen. She combines gesso, graphite, and varnish into some fantastic, textural pieces. Two pieces caught my eye; a gannet at the beach and a seal on a piece of driftwood. After quite a bit of conversation and thinking, I opted to purchase the seal on the driftwood. It connected with me, and I am sure with Leslie too. It is on a piece of driftwood. Both of us like driftwood. We have collected a lot while we have lived in New Zealand. Both of us love seals. Some of our best memories of New Zealand will include the seals at Red Rocks and Cape Palliser. That meant that piece was destined to be our favorite piece of art from this beautiful country.

Helen packaged the artwork. I put it in my car and turned to head home.

In my opinion, the town of Makara is a must-see location!

A panoramic view of the main street. Compare this to the photograph in the hyperlink to the Makara Beach Cafe Facebook page.

The town of Makara is partially visible on the far right. The wind turbine farm is just across the bay.

The wind turbine farm on the opposite side of Ohariu Bay.

The view back across Ohariu Bay from the point where the Makara Walkway forks.

A father and son sitting, looking across Wharehou and Ohariu Bays.

Makara as viewed from the point, across Wharehou and Ohariu Bays.

Looking along the coast, one can see the lone wind turbine.

The grassy trail leads to a viewpoint of the wind turbine farm.

View toward the south along the west coast of the North Island. The South Island is just across Cook Strait in the distance.

One can just make out Ohariu Bay in the center of the photograph.

It was windy, so the wind turbine was definitely in motion.

The rock pillar as seen from up above on the trail.

Mana Island

Plimmerton, New Zealand – August 5, 2017

Earlier in the workweek, Leslie sent me a photograph of a crazy looking bug she found in our garage. I had never seen anything like that bug. I showed the picture to several colleagues at work. They instantly replied, “Weta.”

The weta is an insect indigenous to New Zealand. Think grasshopper with ferocious-looking mandibles and spines. My colleagues said they are a protected species. Having not known that, had I been at home when the weta arrived in the garage, I probably would have dispatched the beast. However, Leslie was somehow able to coax the creature out of the garage and into the plants outside. One of my colleagues told me there are large wetas, up to 10 cm (nearly four inches) long on Mana Island near Plimmerton. I had no intention of setting foot on an island which is home to monsters, but I did want to see the island from a “safe” distance.

So, early in the morning, Leslie and I set out for Plimmerton, New Zealand. We chose to drive Grays Road along the north side of Porirua Harbour to get to Plimmerton. What a beautiful day! The water was smooth as glass.

We drove through the small business district of Plimmerton without stopping. That is because we had already had breakfast and coffee. Just beyond the business district, we made our first stop. Much to our surprise, the Tasman Sea was every bit as calm as the harbor.

The rock formations lead the eye to Mana Island.

I think we were at the beach at low tide because the sea did not cover some fascinating rock formations. The birds loved the rocks. In the distance, we saw Mana Island, and beyond we saw the South Island. It was such a beautiful day.

Back in the car, we drove along Moana Road. It skirts alongside the beach. We were ready to continue driving along the coast when we spotted a sign indicating only foot traffic was allowed beyond that point unless one was visiting someone or on business. Since we were neither, we parked and walked along the beach, looking across the water to Mana Island.

We found the sign at the Hongoeka Marae. A marae is a religious place primarily used by Maori Iwi (tribes). They equate roughly to a church. One of the signposts was carved into an unusual shape.

Our beachcombing is oddly relaxing for us. You would think we find gold nuggets as excited as we get when we find that perfect shell. As I have written before, it does not take a great deal to entertain us.

Mana Island is directly behind the gull.

Mana Island is on the right in the distance. Farther away is the South Island.

The South Island is visible in the distance.

It actually looked more like a windbreak.

The chromed address numerals at the Hongoeka Marae.

A portion of Mana Island and the South Island in the distance.

Stairway to Heaven

Cape Palliser, New Zealand – June 5, 2016

On the spur of the moment, we decided to drive to the Cape Palliser Lighthouse. The two-hour drive began by going over Rimutaka Pass, one of Leslie’s favorites…not. It is a very twisty-turny road, a two-lane highway with periodic passing lanes. The views are spectacular.
Just outside of Featherston, we turned south on Kahutara Road. Along the way, we drove across a bridge over the Ruamahanga River. It was very picturesque. I kept that in the back of my mind. Shortly after the crossing, we turned onto Lake Ferry Road and finally onto Cape Palliser Road. It was on Lake Ferry Road where we discovered the Burnside Presbyterian Church. A sign out front noted the church dates from 1875. The morning light made for a picturesque photo.

Soon, we were parallel to the coast, driving through some farms. We looked to the south and were surprised to see a snowcapped mountain on the south island. Researching after the fact, I found the peak is Mount Tapuae-O-Ueneku. It is nearly 9,500 feet tall. Surprisingly, the distance between the mountain and us was approximately 90 miles. We also saw Mount Franklyn. It is almost 7,700 feet tall. At nearly 140 miles, I am surprised we could see the peak.

Mount Tapuae-O-Ueneku is on the right. Mount Franklyn is on the left. They are both on the South Island.

That morning, the ocean was a fantastic shade of blue. From the farmland, the road descends several hundred feet to the coast. The way at that point is right beside the ocean. Imagining driving along that road during a strong southerly storm sent chills down my spine. I am sure the waves are treacherous during such a blast. With that idea in mind, a precariously situated house caught my eye. I stopped at the beach for some photos. We could see a blue beach home nearly ready to fall into the surf. It appeared the house was vacant for some time. I was a little surprised the home was still there as opposed to being razed and removed. The home was teetering, seemingly awaiting the next storm and its inevitable destiny with the ocean.

Looking across Palliser Bay toward Turakirae Head.

The southerly storms have obviously pounded this section of coastline.

We stopped at a rocky point less than a mile from the Cape Palliser Lighthouse. The rocks seemed similar to those at the Pancake Rocks at Punakaiki; although there were no blowholes there (see Greymouth). The ocean was relatively calm that morning. Regardless, at that particular point, the sea was quite agitated. The crashing waves mesmerized us.

More of the jagged rocks near Mangatoetoe.

The parking area at the end of the Cape Palliser Road is directly at the base of the stairs that lead to the Cape Palliser Lighthouse. From the parking area, the stairs looked more like an overgrown ladder than actual stairs. In continuous operation since October 27, 1897, the lighthouse is 60 feet tall. Ships as far as thirty miles from shore can spot the light. The red and white paint scheme makes the lighthouse very visible against the brownish-gray of the hillside on which it sits.

At the base of the stairs, we saw a sign with the sad note, “…261 steps it takes to reach it.” From our point of view, it indeed appeared it was the stairway to Heaven. I must admit I was shocked to hear Leslie declare she was game to climb the stairs. We enthusiastically began our ascent. In increments of 50, someone using a felt marker on the sides of the stairs reminded one of their progress to that point. We stopped frequently. Ultimately, we passed that 261st stair and stood on the concrete pad at the base of the lighthouse.

Cape Palliser lighthouse showing the Stairway to Heaven.

WARNING Please take care use these steps at your own risk.

The lighthouse as seen from about halfway up the stairs.

The view from the lighthouse was commanding. A woman with some friends and a group of children pointed out to us where we might find fur seals when we descended from the lighthouse. None of her directions included the parking area below the lighthouse. We soon found out otherwise. Nevertheless, looking down the stairs, it again appeared as a stairway from heaven. Even though gravity was working well, going down was not easy. By the time we reached the base of the stairs, I had thought my knees would pop.
Back on level ground, we decided to walk the short distance to the beach. I stopped there to take some photographs. While I was taking a picture, the woman that gave seal directions to us at the lighthouse called out to the children, essentially saying no, no. The children had run in front of my shot, so I thought she was chastising them for that action. When I lowered my camera, I saw that she was commanding them to stop before they got too close to a seal. Sure enough, there within about fifty feet of me was a fur seal. The seal, lying on its back, raised its head and grunted toward the children. Once sure the children were no longer a threat, the seal lay down again, belly pointing to the sun.

We have seen seals before, but never in their natural habitat. I began channeling my inner David Attenborough, snapping photographs wildly. After several shots, I stepped more to my left, looking for a better angle, stopped and took several more photos. I repeated that motion several times, never getting closer to the seal, just looking for a better perspective. On my final shuffle, the snort of another seal startled me. My inner Attenborough nearly soiled my britches. This snorting seal was about fifteen feet away, hidden in a bedding area amongst several small bushes. As soon as I stopped, the snorting stopped. That seal went back to sunning itself too.

After the startling encounter, we walked back to our vehicle. We drove back along the Cape Palliser Road; we stopped at one of the locations that the woman at the lighthouse said held a fur seal colony. We parked the vehicle and walked down to the beach. Soon we spotted our first seal, lying on a rock. Then we saw several more lying on the grass. Suddenly, it seemed seals were everywhere. We stood there for quite a while, just watching. We also noticed the seals come with their colony odor. It is unmistakable. I am not sure which is worse; the seals’ odor or the Gannets’ odor (see Gannets Everywhere ).

The wake-up stretch.

The eyes opened, but nothing else on her moved. She was very relaxed.

When we tired of watching, we walked back to our vehicle. Once there, Leslie decided to sit down. I decided to walk to a rock formation. I hoped to get a different view of the sea. Instead, my inner Attenborough stumbled across several hidden seals, each providing a surprised grunt as I unwittingly stepped too close. They did provide me with some excellent photo opportunities. Deciding I could not get to my desired vantage point without ending up in the middle of the seal colony, I opted to return to the car.
As I noted earlier, our trip was spontaneous. That meant we had not packed a lunch. When I returned to the vehicle, Leslie suggested we stop at the small food trailer in the almost as small fishing village of Ngawi. That sounded like a great idea to me. On the way back to that village, we saw a sign warning of penguins crossing. We have seen several such signs on our New Zealand travels, but we have yet to see a penguin in the wild.

The small food trailer is right on the beach at the edge of Ngawi. Several people stood at the front of the trailer when we arrived, waiting to order. Leslie chose the fish tortilla while I decided on the cheeseburger. We also each ordered chips (French fries) and fizzy drinks. The lunch cost us about US$16. Not bad, considering the number of chips they gave us could have fed Ngawi for two to three days!
We ate across the street from the trailer, sitting on a bench next to the Ngawi Community Hall. Leslie said the fish tortilla (essentially a soft-shelled fish taco) was the best in the world. My cheeseburger was perfect. Something different was the pickled red beet added to the burger. It took the place of a sweet pickle. As we walked back across the street, Leslie told the two women operating the trailer how much she enjoyed the fish tortilla. That thrilled them to no end.

As Americans, I think our thought of a traditional fishing village includes a marina. In Ngawi, the “marina” was full of diesel bulldozers. The bulldozers and some tractors attach to boat trailers. The trailer tongues are extraordinarily long. The bulldozers back the trailers into the surf to launch and retrieve the fishing boats. It is fascinating to watch. This method of boat delivery to the ocean is the same as what we experienced when we visited Kapiti Island.
On the drive back toward home, I recalled the beautiful view on the bridge over the Ruamahanga River. This time, I parked just on the other side of the bridge. The bridge is a very narrow, two-lane bridge. There is no room for pedestrians. Luckily, there is not a lot of traffic. Leslie and I walked to the center of the bridge. I was able to take several good photographs. At one point, a car driving over the bridge slowed to a crawl to see precisely what I was photographing. Once they saw it was merely a landscape, the sped on across.
We drove back over Rimutaka Pass and arrived home around 16:00. It was a beautiful day trip.

The Ruamahanga River looking toward the Aorangi Forest Park.

View of the ocean from Cape Palliser Road.

This is how fishing boats are launched at Ngawi.

The Pacific Ocean just keeps rolling in.

Waves crash against the opposite side of the rocks.

The green paddocks and hills of New Zealand.

TranzAlpine Train & Christchurch

Christchurch, New Zealand – February 23, 2016

We departed Greymouth at about 14:30, some 40 minutes late. We were on-board the KiwiRail, TranzAlpine train, heading to Christchurch. It is called the TranzAlpine because it bisects the South Island of New Zealand, going over and through the Southern Alps. Our impending journey was about four hours long. We were all excited for the penultimate portion of our tour of the South Island.

Our seats were in carriage H, the last enclosed carriage of the train. Behind carriage, H followed the last carriage of the train, the observation carriage. The unique thing about the observation carriage was that it was completely open. There was nothing to come between the camera and the photo. I spent more than half of the four-hour journey standing up in the observation carriage. When the tracks turned just right, I could capture the front of the train.
While not having any glass to introduce glare into my photographs was nice, the observation carriage came with its own set of challenges. First of all, when the train was moving at full-speed, I had to mind my cap. With the wind blasting in from both sides, it could have quickly relieved me of my cherished hat. Secondly, moving that fast, I estimate 100 to 120 kilometers per hour (62 to 75 mph), it was challenging to keep one’s balance. I know that added some camera shake to many of my photographs. Regardless, it was an exhilarating experience.

The trip is not an express, stopping at seven small towns between Greymouth and Christchurch. The stops include Kokiri, Moana, Otira, Arthur’s Pass, Springfield, Darfield, and Rolleston. At times, the tracks paralleled a road. At other times, the train tracks were the only thing to be seen in the valley. Frequently, the train traveled parallel to streams and rivers. It is incredible to me to see how clear the water is in New Zealand. It is so clear that it makes it very difficult to fly fish. The fish can easily see when someone approaches.

Each passenger received a set of earphones. I did not use them; I was too busy going back and forth to the observation carriage. Lorraine thought the narrative available through the earphones enhanced the journey. The narrator shared history and tidbits of information all along the route.

Listening to the narrative while on the journey.

The town of Otira is at the entrance to the Otira Tunnel. On the Christchurch side of the tunnel is the village of Arthur’s Pass. The tunnel is just over five miles long. Part of the reason for the stop at Otira is to couple an additional engine to the rear of the train. The reason for the second engine is safety. In case there is a problem in the tunnel, the engines can pull the train to safety, regardless of which direction. The trip from Otira to Arthur’s Pass has a gain in altitude of over 800 feet. While Baldwin Street is steeper at 1:5 (see blog entry Otago & Olveston), the pitch of the tunnel is 1:33. Opened in 1923, the tunnel was the seventh-longest tunnel in the world at that time. The observation carriage was closed during the trip through the tunnel.

The train stopped on the Arthur’s Pass side of the tunnel, to allow the uncoupling of the second engine.

Preparing to couple onto the rear of the train at Otira.

With all the stops and because of our late departure, we were an hour late arriving in Christchurch. We disembarked and walked to the front of the train to retrieve our baggage. My bag was the absolute last one to come off the train. The last bag in hand; we walked outside the station. We abruptly discovered taxis were scarce. Many of the taxi drivers tired of waiting for the late train. They departed to find other fares. That left 30 or 40 passengers waiting for taxis. One by one, taxis dribbled back to the station and loaded with crankier and crankier passengers. I do not think we were grumpy, but I know we were thrilled when we were finally able to get in a taxi.
Unfortunately, I was not familiar that Corporate Cabs operates in Christchurch. Had I known, I could have made a reservation ahead of time. That would have meant a cab would be there waiting for us regardless of our arrival time. Oh well, live and learn!On our way to the Ibis Christchurch hotel, I asked our driver if he had been in Christchurch when the big earthquake struck February 22, 2011. He said he was. Liquefaction destroyed his home. As we drove along, it was apparent that Christchurch was not back to 100 percent. Many buildings still stood damaged. The driver said that wherever there was a vacant lot, there had been a structure there before the earthquake.
I felt sad for and about the city. It seemed to be only a shell of its former self. The central business district should have been bustling with people, business, and commerce. It was not; it just seemed to be “existing.”
By the time we made it to the hotel, we were all tired and hungry. We checked-in tossed our bags in our rooms and made a beeline for the hotel restaurant.
The next morning, after breakfast, we were ready to explore Christchurch. Just around the corner from the hotel is the Christchurch Anglican Cathedral. Construction on the Cathedral began in 1864. It took 40 years to complete. The 2011 earthquake partially destroyed the Cathedral in a matter of seconds. Indecision and inaction, except for some bracing and some screening fencing, means it remains in a state of disrepair. It was sad to see it in that condition.

Very near the Cathedral, we discovered the Christchurch Tramway. The Tramway is public transportation utilizing restored streetcars dating from the early 20^th Century. The tickets we purchased allowed us to use the Tramway throughout the day.

We got off the Tramway at the Canterbury Museum. The main building of the museum dates from 1870. There have been some building additions since then.
Our first stop in the museum was the Christchurch Street area. The area housed multiple storefronts reminiscent of the 1870s Christchurch. Each of the storefronts contained period artifacts. We truly got the feeling of walking in Christchurch in the late 19th Century. One exit from the Christchurch Street exhibit led directly into an old gallery area containing 19th Century costumes and decorative arts.
One of the unique exhibits in the museum is the Paua Shell House that has some actual portions of and furniture from a real home in Bluff, New Zealand. Fred and Myrtle Flutely covered their home in Bluff, inside and out, with paua shells. Leslie and I both like paua shells. They are beautiful; however, I think we will stop short of doing our house up with the shells. It took Fred and Myrtle 40 years to cover the home. I am sure it was a real conversation piece while it was located in Bluff.

Departing the museum, we boarded the Tramway again. This time we got off on the famous New Regent Street. The street is a block-long collection of pastel-colored two-story buildings, dating from the mid-1930s. The ground level shops were a mixture of coffee shops, cafés, and boutiques. After walking the city for a while, it was back on the Tramway.

Our next stop was the Christchurch Art Gallery. Since it was lunchtime, we first stopped at the Fiddlesticks Restaurant and Bar that is directly across the street.

Detail of Ana Reupene Whetuki and Child (Ngati Maru) by Gottfried Lindauer (1880).

There is an outstanding collection of art in the gallery. From the second floor, one can see the Maori totem in front of Christchurch City Hall from a window. When we left the museum, Hillary was able to pose with her best haka face in front of the totem.
After the haka pose, we waited across from the museum for the next Tramway. After 15 minutes, we still had not seen a Tram. I finally called the Tramway company. The person that answered the phone told me the Tram was no longer running that day because of issues beyond their control. We discovered later that the track along New Regent Street was closed. Some newly discovered earthquake damage on one of the buildings caused the closure. I certainly did not notice anything dangerous about the premises while we were there earlier in the day. But then again, I was not looking for anything. After hearing that news, we strolled back to the hotel for some well-deserved naps.

Posing in front of the Maori pouwhenua at the Christchurch City Council building.

When we woke up, we had one more stop we wanted to make, the “Container Mall.” The actual name of the development is Re: START Mall. A few blocks from our hotel, this area is several retail stores housed in uniquely positioned metal shipping containers. The idea is to replace temporarily the shopping spaces damaged or demolished because of the 2011 earthquake. I have certainly never seen another mall like that one.

I could not keep the earthquake out of my mind. The ground on which the mall is situated was no doubt the location of multiple buildings; buildings that were destroyed and subsequently razed. Colorful paint on many of the containers made the setting a little less industrial. Additionally, there were several pieces of whimsical art throughout the mall.

The shopping was uneventful. None of us purchased anything. We strolled back to the hotel and prepared for our departure from Christchurch the next day.
After a leisurely breakfast and morning, we hailed a taxi and headed to the Christchurch airport. The airport was rehabbed after the 2011 earthquake. Our wait went like clockwork, taking off on time.
The flight was uneventful. It was a little bumpy on our approach into Wellington; however, it was not as bad as the first day Leslie, and I arrived a few months ago.