Day 10 – Nice to have you, but now get out of our country Aussie!

Homeward bound…

I don’t actually want to say much about this day. The sad final day L. A token bit of sightseeing to fill the time, a coffee in Arrowtown, and the sad, sad farewell to the bang bus and the holiday was over…

Editorial Note…

Oh and all, on the 6^th day of the trip, this happened…. Welcome to the future boys!

Hope you enjoyed the read, and if you didn't. TS!

Day 9 – And on the 9th day, God created downhilling….

Jack Daniels Remaining: 0mls
Kilometers Ridden Today:71km's (mostly going downhill)

Highlight of the day – Despite 40+ Km’s of epic down-hilling, believe it or not, the highlight of the day came at around 11:45pm when a much older lady at a pub asked me “Do I swing”?

Today, Shawn and I opted in for a day of oh so epic down-hilling off the Skyline Gondola at Queenstown. It seems the track fairies had been sprinkling their magic since my last visit about 18 months previously. New tracks. Seriously well maintained old ones. It was heaven. Even if you don’t like downhill mountain biking, you have to appreciate this shit…

Cheesy photo of yours truly..

The day didn’t start too well, with the bike renters conveniently failing to tell us there was racing on that day, so half the trails were closed (until 1:30pm). Still we got out there and had a blast. My favourite run was a mix of three runs – Vertigo for the top, Thingamajig for the mid-section, and then onto the oh so sweat Thundergoat for the bottom. A flat tyre and some pedal on calf bleeding the only real downers of the day. Here is a map of the trails, likely spectacularly boring to all but you downhillers out there…

And here is the sqiggle from Strava of the day. Pretty cool how you can see the 13 distinct up (on the gondola) then down hill runs....

On 650b’s…

I chose to spend the extra $20 and give a 27.5 a try. For those of you somewhat more mountain bike challenged, it is the latest tyre sizing – a compromise between the traditional 26 inch wheel and the cross country specialist 29 inch. The jury is out... took me a while to dial in the cornering, though it did roll better on the straights.

Some others shots from the day....

The day was not completely over. Being the final night, we decided to hit the town. For a moment, there was a faint hope of twisting the iron arms of Paul, Richard and Shawn, alas; they pulled up stumps by 9ish, leaving rubber arm Saunders, Sam and Alex to fly the Aussie flag. It was a great night – a minor loss at the casino, a few rounds of pool… oh and a much more “senior” lady asking me, quite seriously “if I swing”. Nuff Said.

The boys helping me finish of my Jack Daniels on the final night....

 Final evening beers...

Day 8 – I hope you had the climb of your life…

Jack Daniels Remaining: 270mls
Kilometers Ridden Today: 34kms

For some unknown reason, I had set in my mind the idea of doing a hill climb to one of the ski resorts that endower the surrounding peaks of Queenstown. This is despite a week or so of riding, and with a day of down-hilling ahead of me. Initially I was considering the Remarkables, until I remembered it is a gravel and very treacherous road to the summit. So it was Coronet Peak. Richard and Shawn chose to take on the challenge with me. As usual, of course, they pumped out an hour of riding before breakfast and set off for the climb 20 minutes after me, eventually catching me towards the summit. Here I am being quickly hunted down by Shawn....

Now I have never been up Coronet Peak, but a quick Google search lead me to believe it should be a fairly doable climb – and would  be categorised as a category 1 climb if a race. The ride out from Queenstown was along the undulating road that takes you to the Shotover river/canyon, then onto the scenic arrow town. 7Km’s or so out is the turn off to Coronet peak. Immediately you start climbing. And you continue to climb for a gruelling 8Km’s to the resort. According to Bill Bryson’s “A Short History of Nearly Everything”, gravity is actually a rather weak force. But I can tell you that when on a bike climbing from 300 meters to around 1100 meters above sea level, it is an absolute bitch.

Optimism, on this climb was defined on this ride as knowing you were already in the easiest gear, but still giving that gear lever a push in the vain hope that another gear had magically appeared in the 23 seconds since you last tried reaching for another gear.

The ride was 8km’s of ascent, with little respite, with gradients of between 5 and 15%. Almost the entire way the destination was visible, way off in the distance. Shawn passed me at about 75% of the way up remarking “who’s idea was this” as he passed… Richard passed me a little further up the road – sticking with me for a few hundred metres before kicking again for the summit (I think holding with me was more in sympathy or support…).

With the destination clearly visible way up on yonder – way number one to demoralise a rider, the climb also had an uncanny knack of hiding its next painful stretch  just beyond the next corner – way number two to demoralise a rider. As I turned each bend, hoping that the road would flatten out, the snake of road would just re-present itself again, in all it’s 7+% grade glory.

Eventually I reached the top – Richard and Shawn there waiting for me of course...

Obligatory photo of man and bike in the snow… I’m going to send this one into modern man magazine.

Some other randoms....

I think the profile of the ride also paints a pretty good picture of what we did....

We didn’t stay at the summit long, sweaty bodies and chilling mountain air doesn’t mix well, so off for the bottom we set. What took me an hour to climb, was done in about 7 minutes on the way done. What a fast <and cold> decent!

Tiredness encroached on me pretty heavily that afternoon and I admit to a small nana nap.

Richard and Paul had gone out to get Muscles for seafood feast that evening. Shawn and I looked at them like they were idiots when they said they got a lift back with Sam and Alex. A minute later, Samwise and Alex entered. They had returned early from their adventure. The fellowship was back to full strength!

Day 7 - On top of the world! (well a New Zealand sealed road…)

Jack Daniels Remaining: 400mls
Kilometers Ridden Today: 71kms

The Armageddon of yesterday made way, for blue skies, a sunny and a CALM, bliss today. Riders...all in. We kitted up and set sail (that is after someone checked with me where the bang bus key was). We were all well aware of the ride today and its challenges; Wanaka to Queenstown via the Crown Range (Cardrona). A gradual climb that continued to kick up to the top of pass, which also happens to be the highest sealed road in New Zealand (at around 1100 metres I think). The record of the ride I did today says it all really....

Alex, Paul, Shawn and Richard passed me and disappeared into the distance, as usual. Most people who have been to NZ would be familiar with this pub…

I couldn't decide if I was inspired by this site along the way either. What has been seen, cannot be unseen....

Some fantasmagorical views along the way. Just man, bike and countryside....

The last part of that climb was death – I noticed the Garmin indicating a kick up to 16% grade at times. Scenery was stunning though once I hit the summit (highest sealed road in New Zealand)....

The decent was sweet! After a quick traverse, it was down some switchbacks and back onto the main road (a “test your brakes” sign made complete sense when 100 metres later a steep descending road ended abruptly at a T intersection with the main road!).

I think the climb destroyed me a bit today. the rather flat ride into Queenstown was pretty tough, but eventually I made it. Another 70km’s under my belt.

Our accommodation here was POOOORRRNO! The penthouse apartment of a block right by the lake; it was totally awesome.

We had all expected the bang bus to catch us, or not be far behind us. But appears Sam decided to do quite a hike in the Crown Range (after all, he is Nepalese – with one leg shorter than the other, a genetic modification to allow him to stand straight on a hillside). What a site it must have been to see 5 men exit an apartment with only white towels around their waist to greet a man in his van.

3 days in one of the best places in the world, Queenstown. I bee-lined for Vertigo bikes to reserve a bike for some downhill action on Saturday, but not before bidding farewell to Sam and Alex on their journey. Lambas bread in hand for energy (aka red wine), we bid them farewell and good luck as they would negotiate the Mine of Moria (aka Homer tunnel), and survive the furious onslaught of the Nazgul (aka the South Island Kia). This Kia gave me permission to photographic it against a stunning South Island backdrop. Payment was only a piece of rubber and a bolt. Seriously....

Left slightly deflated from the departure, the remaining members of fellowship decided to cook up a traditional feast in their absence (eh, pasta and vegetables). Thankfully during the evening, we received a photo which indicated Sam and Alex had found a suitable watering hole to replenish their energy as they negotiated the lands of Middle Earth. Here they are with their Lambas juice....

Editorial Note – Earplugs: One of man-kinds greatest inventions.

A few days ago, Richard bestowed upon me two tiny spongy earplugs – which proved to be my most important possession on the trip. Snoring is a bitch. And Wanaka was the one place where all 6 of us stayed in the same room. Shawn takes the prize as the only one who didn’t snore. 5 of the 6 of us in Wanaka were stirring Sauron of Mordor with our snoring. I woke midway through the night for a nature call and took out the ear plugs (because I must have made the odd assumption that I could not pee with ear plugs in). I counted 4 different, and LOAD snorers – Santo slept silently.

Day 6 – Damn you weather. Damn you! (shaking fist at the sky).

Jack Daniels Remaining: 490mls

Kilometers Ridden Today: 36kms

Rain. Wind. More rain. More wind.

Last time I went up Haast pass it was raining so hard it could have put the fires of Hell (or Mordor) out. This time was no different. Only this time, the hell storm of rain and wind did not end once we “passed the pass” and entered Otago. We stopped by a lake for some sightseeing. Had we chosen to get out and ride here, we would have had a tail wind sure, but it was so brutal it would have been unsafe and being blown into oncoming traffic was a serious risk. So grumpily we barreled back into the bang bus.

It was a real shame we didn’t ride today. Of all the potential riding, Haast pass was the feather I wanted in my cap. It’s a stunning journey in a car, so a bike would have been even better – with the added satisfaction of yet another climb conquered. Apart from a few stop-offs to photograph waterfalls and lakes, it was a fairly benign journey. 

A few happy snaps along the way which I believe exacerbate the stunningly stunning scenery. Thankfully no one produced the tool accessory of the decade - the selfie stick. Well played boys.

Wanaka was not the picture of beauty when we arrived either – those that hadn’t been took some photos of the lake. I sussed out some accommodation and did what I do best before beer o’clock – drink coffee.
Oooooh. I feel a pano shot coming on.. here it comes...

BAM!

We stayed at the Youth Hostel. This was the only time we all stayed in the same room (a 6 birth dorm with kitchenette and bathroom). I was pretty chuffed with myself, as in talking to the lady at the counter, we were awarded the “low carb” rate for our efforts in riding so the room cost just $22 each rather than $32, (hey a win is a win and a little part of me likes to think it was my dashing good looks and fluttering eyelids that helped get the lower rate). The day was all in all pretty lazy with pub grub late lunch. We gave the 3 or 4 bottles of spirits we had with us a nudge and dined on finger food back in the room for breakfast. A bit of reading, sleeping, walking, hanging out, chatting etc….

The boys!

Most importantly, a council was held today in the hallowed halls of the YHA in which it was sadly decided the fellowship of the boys would split, albeit temporarily, to allow Samwise Gamgee and his companion Alex “Frodo” Varbola to find themselves on a journey to Milford Sound. We would all rendezvous in Queenstown the following day, before they set sail for Te Anau and Milford or “Milf Sound” as I preferred to call it.

Day 5 - Captain Stupid

Jack Daniels Remaining: 690mls

Kilometers Ridden Today: 101km

I had a lot of ideas for the title of today’s entry, because it would be the most successful day of riding for me; 100km’s including the hills in reverse from Franz Josef to Fox on our way to Haast.

Alas, the award for Captain Stupid for this trip went to yours truly. In my haste to depart this morning and get a gap on the boys (as they would inevitably catch me), I made one “small” oversight. About 15kms up the road my phone was beeping and ringing. As it was a local NZ SIM, that only a handful of people had I figured it was important. It was Shawn; “Do you have the van key”. I was quite positive I gave it to Paul, but to be sure, I emptied the contents of my jersey pockets on the side of the road, somewhere between Franz Josef and Fox. No key. Phone rang again. “We found it”. And the moment Shawn asked if I remember where I hung the key it immediately came back to me – the rubber stopper on the tail gate of the van. Shit bloody shit shit I thought – how did I forget that. Probably rightfully so, the boys carried and air of distrust with them for the next few days, double checking who had the key (looking in my direction).

Anyhow, back to the ride. Shawn and Richard passed me not far past Fox Glacier. From there, the Km’s ticked over 40, 50, 60, 70… No van. No Alex. I was growing a bit worried. This was a VERY isolated part of the trip with no phone reception, towns or stops. I pulled up at a turnoff to a café, but was torn. If I went into the café, it was likely the van (and Alex) would pass me and not know it. The problem is, our destination (I thought) was Haast – 140km’s from Franz Josef and a solid 30kms longer than I’d ever really ridden in one stint before. So I was unsure whether to stop and wait or push on. This was coupled also with a repeating voice in my head about whether we had actually agreed to re-group in a tiny village called Mahitahi (midway – which I had already overshot). There had been discussion on this the previous evening.

I decided to push on the Haast. About 100 metres down the road, a Magpie?! Attacked me (I didn’t think there were any in this country!). Persistent little bugger too. He (or she) played let’s piss off Justin for about 300 metres before realising this genuine threat to its chicks was gone (yes I am known to climb up trees and steal magpie chicks; I’m seeking therapy for it, I swear). Ironically, not much later Alex caught me, then then Van. Alex’s slowness was explained by a broken rear spoke (after a Km walk a nice touring couple picked him up and got him to Fox, where he borrowed Paul’s wheel for the rest of the journey). The van caught me at 92kms – and I asked them to hold back so I could do 100kms (I didn’t trust myself doing 140km’s with the van in front of me and no way of communicating with them.

…A mere 1km downs the road, an unscheduled stop. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something on the side of the road. I turned round and as I suspected, it was a tiny Robin (native one I assume). It didn’t look right and it obviously wasn’t when I lent down and picked it up. It sat quietly on my finger. I suspected it got hit by a car (but showed no signs of injury). I shook my finger and it flew off... but landed in the middle of the road. This isn’t good, I thought. I quickly assessed the situation. I was miles from anyway. I did have the van not far behind me, but I was familiar with Haast – they are lucky to have a pub, let alone a vet of some kind. I admit, I considered “quick end” options for the little fella (no need to elaborate). However, I picked it up once more and gave my finger another shake to encourage it to take off – success. It flew (fairly well it seemed) to a nearby branch. This time out of my reach, but I was content it would be ok. I departed and a little further down the road realised my decision was probably a good one. I was in new Zealand and with ground dwelling predators near non-existent, it would have far longer to recover in NZ than in Australia – the land of snakes, spiders, feral cats, foxes and just about everything else that would choose a helpless winded creature that weighs less than a fart a suitable meal.

Not long after the van caught me (almost exactly at the 100km mark) and the rest of the trip was  spent supporting Alex on his way to Haast.

What better way to finish a ride.. NZ West Coast and a Tui....

Haast was every bit as quiet as I remembered (I don’t think the boys were terribly impressed). We mulled over the idea of pushing on, but decided against as it would mean we would not get to ride up the pass tomorrow, and arrival in Wanaka would have been rather late. It turned out to be one of the better evenings together. We had the motel virtually to ourselves (despite being advised it was “fishing season and expect Haast to be busy”. Two or three of the boys chose to make this their big night and stayed up till 3am – presumably just to given the ample supply of spirits with us a nudge…

The bang bus, waiting patiently outside the motel room while its passengers rested...

Haast, in all its "going off" glory..

Repair works of Alex’s wheel on the motel room floor…. Note the foreman telling Alex what to do (Alex’s patience was tested, but succeeded).

Every trip has a theme song. Ours I think was this little number from Rammstein – Du Hast (for obvious reasons). Take a moment, to get yourself a herbal tea, get on your comfy pillow and listen to its peaceful harmony…

Du Hast!

Day 4 - Glacier Country

Jack Daniels Remaining: 750mls

Kilometers Ridden Today: 36kms

This is a fantastic part of New Zealand and I am glad we chose to spend 2 nights in Franz Josef. For this "kind of" rest day, we all found out various activities to do – even the ever-indecisive Saunders eventually sorted his day. Base camp for the two days was the Franz Josef YHA.

Shawn, Richard and Paul decided to ride to Fox Glacier and back (about 55kms round trip). I spent the morning with Alex and Sam having coffee/breakfast, and then attempted to fix my bike (I had also lost the use of my front gears the previous day). While I do know a bit about bike maintenance, sometimes it would pay if I took a moment to step back and assess the problem. I hastily removed and attempted to tighten the derailleur cable, but then discovered two things – one was the cable had become detached from the shifter (and I had no idea how to re-attach it), the second more embarrassing issue, was realising there was nothing wrong with my gears – it was in fact that my cranks were not aligned; my on the fly fix it job yesterday was not quite right. I corrected the issue (spare part thanks to Santo), but was unable to fix the cable.

I decided to head to Fox with Alex and Sam who booked a heli-hike on Fox Glacier – the bike was good enough to ride, so I loaded it up with the expectation of riding back from Fox to Franz Josef. Upon arriving at Lake Matheson (for viewing Mt Cook), I realised I had “been here, done this” before, so jumped on the bike right away, while the weather was good.

The ride from Fox to Franz Josef was awesome, with lots of challenging hills but rewarding descents. Check out the profile and the ride:

And some happy snaps...

Approaching Fox Glacier from Lake Matheson (cloud on the mountains in NZ, how different):

Decisions, decisions:

The spectacular views looking back towards Lake Matheson, while climbing:

With a couple of little deviations, I turned it into a 36km ride, including a 3km “cyclo-cross” up to Franz Josef Glacier, which gave me an appreciation of the micro-climates of the area. I got properly drenched at the Glacier, but upon returning back to the main road, I noted it was bone dry.

The crew split for dinner tonight with Richard, Shawn and Paul eating in, and the rest of us giving another restaurant – Alice May – a try. Got to say, one of the best roast pork meals I have ever had in my life! Though, on inquiring about the name, we were directed to the somewhat sombre story in the menu that it was named in honour of a local lady, who was the centre of women’s rights for a while, when she shot her boyfriend for refusing to marry her when their baby was born still-born. She became the centre of women’s rights and charges against her were dropped (remember that New Zealand was the first country in the world to afford women the right to vote). Her actions were obviously out of grief and despair as she did attempt to kill herself at the same time.

Like of the little hobbits we were, the six us re-convened for second dinner later that evening and a night cap. Apparently Richard, after riding every day (and to and from Fox Glacier), had excess energy (and no-dose) to burn. So here he is he head banging and violently flailing one hand.

(Slow shutter speed and no flash?… I don’t know what you are talking about…)

Day 3 - Well Tickle me Hocker!

Jack Daniels Remaining: 860mls

Km's covered: 50km

The journey today would take us from Arthur's Pass on an undulating ride to the West Coast and down to Hokitika. Upon rising on the 3^rd day, the weather again proved to be an unknown quantity. It was raining, it even hailed and I think sleeted a little. However, there was no wind (yet) so in my book that was good enough. I kitted up, as did Alex and the eternal freaks of nature Richard and Shawn. Paul would be Sam’s “Bang bus buddy” today and they would depart after us and play what became the daily ritual of the bang bus leaving after the riders and eventually catching them to pick up those who were done for the day. Off we set. The first 10kms or so was fairly standard mountain climbing. Enjoyable – even with the rain and hail (thanks Paul for the loaner of your spray jacket). We then came across the gradient 16% decent which was a little dicey, including an viaduct very high over the river which had head-wind, side-wind, tail-wind and up-wind. It was freakish and a little scary being blown around. We passed under tunnels reminiscent of those on the Tour de France. This was possible the one of the very few moments where my mere $1,000 cyclo-cross bike being superior to the boys $4000+ road bikes – disc brakes on a wet, windy, 16% decent are a real winner. The road eventually flattened out, and became following the meandering <xx> river. Km’s passed by pretty well, until I felt something loose under my left foot. My foot came loose from the bike – I assumed an issue with my cleat until I looked down and found the whole pedal and crank still attached to my foot but not the bike! Shit!

So I pulled over for repairs, and not a half bad spot for a mechanical issue either…

After about 20 minutes repair work (never leave home without your allen keys), I was on my way again, having taken the opportunity to refuel again I was feeling pretty good. The weather was all over the shop – sunshine one moment, rain the next, hail then next, back to sunshine…. And then… the wind. The wind REALLY picked up in the valley heading due west to the coast – and it was relentless. The van had already passed me a short while ago, and after 50km’s when I realised that I was using most of my energy just to stay upright on the bike, I decided to call the van back for a pick up. I was demoralised and my poor relationship with headwinds continued. As I pushed off again waiting for the bus to come back I kind of felt at ease with my decision when I saw the water from a pond, being blown off the pond and raining down on the surrounding ground.

Eventually I was collected and we high tailed it for Hokitika – we passed Alex (who looked spent but to his credit pushed on). We met up with the other two in Hokitika. This was to be our overnight stop, but upon noticing not much going on in town (coupled with the “who the hell are you?” looks we got at the local pub) we grabbed a quick feed and made the two hour drive to Franz Josef – I drove and spent most of the time keeping the very un-aerodynamic bang bus straight on the road. Thanks also to Sam for asking me to check out the amazing views, even though a small truck was coming in the opposite direction… ;-)

Hokitika... has the "H" factor, but not the "X" factor...

Day 2 – Like a F@rt in the wind

Jack Daniels Remaining: 950mls

Kilometers Covered: 20km

If you failed to read my previous blog on my ride from Brisbane to Sydney; you suck and it is your loss from now until the end of eternity. But seriously (well, kind of seriously, you still should have read it), I made my readers well aware of how much I DESPISE a headwind when riding. After a glorious day of arrival (still, calm and maybe 22 degrees), the first day of our ride was grey, cold and the winds of hell were blowing FROM the direction we were headed. I half heatedly kitted up and rode round to the bike shop with the boys to get Richard’s new seat clamp.

…and that was enough for me to declare I wasn’t riding. Headwinds are not enjoyable. And I am in particular a sensitive little fairy about them and refuse to ride in it. Let me <try> to give you my point of view…

I don’t mind hills. A hill is the same hill today as it was yesterday, as it will be tomorrow, as it will be in 10, or 100 years. Therefore you have a known challenge that does not change itself on any given day. A headwind just “appears” like a fart in an elevator. Something you don’t necessarily have to contend with, but just happens to be there one day to piss you off. A headwind could have been a tailwind (like the scent of a lady’s perfume in said lift that makes you weak at the knees) or it could have been no wind (like a lift as it should be – no noticeable smell).  A headwind is the bane of my already VERY fragile relationship with road cycling and something I am simply not willing to deal with.

The boys told me I chose the right day to not ride. I thanked them for their “support” (I think that's what it was). Anyway, a day spent with Sam the man in a van is not the worst thing I can think of, and it was an enjoyable drive up towards the designated meeting point (Castle Hill). A childish “doughy” in a van, 2 or 3 coffees and about 34 songs from our playlists later we caught up, one by one with the boys as they rode from bad weather, through storm, through Armageddon on their way up to castle hill. May I say good effort boys! Here is the grade of the ride for you readers to help you appreciate the feat. Yeah, it sucked...

100km’s under their belt at Castle Hill, they were not keen on the ride to Arthurs Pass, 50kms further up the road. Oddly (as we were in the mountains), the skies cleared and the wind died down and we were greeted with some spectacular scenery on the way to Arthurs Pass…. I was getting itchy feet but could not get consent from a fellow rider. With 20kms to go to Arthurs Pass we stopped for some photos. I kitted up. I rode. 20kms. Yeah not much but it was a good way to start. And then Alex captures this shot. While I don’t proclaim to like photos of myself and am probably the antithesis of vain, this is a winner. Thanks Alex.

I rolled into Arthur's Pass. The backpackers we were staying at there was a winner. Pub and food across the road, I couldn’t be happier.

I wanted to think of something witty to write about this shot in the pub at Arthur's pass, but Alex had just ridden that profile I showed earlier, the dude was shagged...

I've taken about 21 panorama photos on my iPhone. 19 of them were on this trip. Hard not to with these views...

And here was my ride for the day...

Finally, I must say. New Zealand. Tourism. You’re doing it right. Last time I visited the country I noticed the high quality of signage and general attention to helping tourists experience the country. So we are in Arthur's Pass. Population 17 people, 8 Kia’s and 4 dead possums and we found this.... 

The photo doesn’t do it justice (it more looks like a powerful camera flash). Infact it is a waterfall lite up with a massive flood light and was REALLY effective.

And shhh, if you look carefully you will see a Samwise in its natural habitat doing… Something...

On Christchurch…

If I may be serious for a moment, the evening before and this morning with Sam, we had a look around Christchurch and it was a very sobering experience. In February of 2011 (that’s nearly 5 years ago as of penning this blog) a 6.3 magnitude earthquake struck Christchurch. The city centre was out of bounds for a long time, and while cleaned up, the effects are still clearly evident – most notable of which is the Christchurch Cathedral, which seemingly still stands as a reminder of the event. The CBD is rather barren, with many gravel parking lots, which are simply the vacant spaces of demolished buildings. Further still were all the empty/derelict buildings. On our drive, Sam and I also took a drive up to the hills surrounding Christchurch. We stopped at a good viewing point, with a huge mansion behind us – on closer inspection I noticed it clearly showed the scars of the quake with cracks in the masonry patched up. 

But as usual, a Kiwi never gives up, and for the most part Christchurch is well recovering.

Yours truly in a snap from up on the hills area of Christchurch....