G'day! I'm Chris. I left my home in rural Australia back in 2007 to pursue a life less ordinary.
I specialize in ambitious travel - bucket list worthy journeys such as the Great US Road Trip, the ultimate African safari, and following the length of the Silk Road.
You can read about my experiences in Queenstown here.
Rudyard Kipling once described Milford Sound as the eighth wonder of the world, but you’d be forgiven for thinking that he meant the entire area leading up to the misnamed fjord. Whether it was the soaring mountain tops, the numerous waterfalls along the way, the serene farmland, or the thick forests of birch – the trip to Milford Sound was almost as awe inspiring as the legendary location voted the world’s most popular tourist attraction in 2008.
Mist shrouded mountains on the drive to Milford Sound
Fallon and I left our hostel bleary eyed at 6.30am and were soon snugly ensconced in the bus as it wound its way out toward the Sound. Milford Sound lies just 73km or so from Queenstown as the crow flies, but it’s a near five hour drive to get there by the winding roads that lead through Te Anau where we took in a much needed coffee to perk ourselves up. The trip thus far had taken us through the rolling green hills and alongside Lake Wakatipu – the massive and impossibly deep (400 metres) lake that Queenstown sits on the shores of. Parts of it, where the hills were especially stark and triumphant, put us in mind of the mythic land of Rohan as it is depicted in the Lord of the Rings films. I may or may not have continually hummed various tunes from that movie’s soundtrack while we drove.
Along the way we’d been entertained by the anecdotes and knowledge of our Mitre Peak Tours bus driver, who went on despite it being abundantly clear that 99% of his passengers were fast asleep. But after refueling at Te Anau and pushing on into the Fjordlands National Park – it was hard for any of us to peel our eyes around from the windows, let alone close them long enough to get some shut eye.
I really can’t even begin to describe how visually stunning the entire area is. Overnight rainfall had painted the towering glacier carved cliffs with dozens of waterfalls. Some of them were a mere finger’s breadth wide, whilst others tumbled from dizzying heights only to be caught up by the wind and turned into mist. A few of the most powerful managed to plummet all of the way down to our level – where they fed the numerous rivers and streams that wound their way towards the various fjords that give the area its name.
Just outside of the entrance to Homer's Tunnel, where a huge camp was established for the men and women who hand-cut the tunnel. Snow in summer!
As we traveled through this ancient and beautiful area, we learned about the brave souls who hand cut the road through the area. Looking out at the sparsely wooded plains and swamps that rolled by, it was hard to imagine being comfortable with today’s modern technology – let alone in the Great Depression with little more than firelight to live by.
Our first stop along the way was at the aptly named Mirror Lakes, which exist after the river changed its course and left them stranded in the original bed. On a clear day they would reflect the blue of the sky brilliantly, and while we were out on a cloudy one, it was still easy to spot why they are named as such.
The aptly named Mirror Lakes
The next pit stop was at Monkey Creek, where we were invited to dip our water bottles into the icy cold water and taste. I had expected something rich with minerals, but was pleasantly surprised to find instead a deliciously cool swig of water. The land around Monkey Creek, decorated with bl0ssoming flowers and grass heavy with the previous night’s rain, was just stunning.
Soon we were pulling up toward Milford Sound proper – the mountains towering higher than ever before as the waters of the Tasman Sea came into sight. Due to the heavy rainfall the area regularly receives, the water can sometimes have up to seven metres of fresh water atop the salt – and I’d kill to come back sometime and scuba dive and see where the fresh water and salt water meet.
The waters of Milford Sound are a deep green, a far cry from the crystal clear we’d seen in Lake Wakitipu. Dyed by the tannin of the hundreds of thousands of New Zealand Birch in the mountains, the waters are no less pleasing to the eye. We quickly transferred from the bus and onto a boat to take us out into the waters, and embarked on a two hour round trip that took us past waterfalls, soaring cliffs, and napping seals. I could wax lyrical and never really do it justice, and that’s both a humbling realization and a testament to just how amazing the area is. Words just can’t do it justice.
Falon and I posing before the beautiful cliffs and waters of Milford SoundA cute seal napping on Seal Rock. Those imaginitive Kiwis...Waterfalls, waterfalls everywhere...
What the region really impressed upon me is just how powerful a force nature really is. Milford Sound is technically a fjord – the point where a glacier’s long and inevitable journey comes to an end as it melts into the warmer waters of the ocean. The fjord shows the awesome power of the glacier like no diagram can – the glacier literally pushed the land aside and forced it up into the towering cliffs that now border the water. There are now gentle slopes or sandy shores on this waterfront – just jagged cliffs that seem to jut out in defiance of all we learned in geography class.
The tenacity with which the native New Zealand flora cling to the solid granite cliffs is another sign of nature’s power. No human could comfortably exist on the bare stone – yet birch and ferns have managed to sprout from every crack on the cliffs and carve out a home for themselves. These are not barren cliffs – but cliffs painted green with life.
I also think I know where I’ll be fleeing if there is ever a zombie apocalypse…
Our trip back to civilization was a sedate one. No longer quite as awed, we alternated between snatching some valuable sleep and watching The World’s Fastest Indian. The trip might have cost each of us $130 for the day (excluding food and drink) but I’d have paid it for the journey out alone. Anyone in New Zealand who doesn’t make an excuse to see Milford Sound is depriving themselves of something utterly beautiful – and something the likes of which you won’t see anywhere else in the world.
The view out over beautiful Lake Wakatipu. Photo by Fallon Fehringer
There are some towns that you immediately feel at home in upon your arrival. I first experienced the phenomenon when Fallon and I spent a day exploring Flagstaff in Arizona after our trip out to the Grand Canyon. There was something about its artsy, laid back culture that really grabbed me.
I felt that feeling again when we stepped out of our hostel (Deco Backpackers) and took in Queenstown for the first time. Sitting on the shores of Lake Wakatipu and rimmed by the tall and jagged peaks that only a glacier could carve – Queenstown is just too picturesque to exist outside of fiction.
Descending from Man Street and down into the city centre, we were immediately swept up by the sea of tourists and backpackers. But unlike bustling Sydney or even mild-mannered Christchurch, there didn’t seem to be the same urgency. People lolled by the side of the road on benches, dined in the countless cafes and bars we passed, or ducked between different travel agents organizing their next adrenaline seeking pursuit.
The quaint village green
With our time in Queenstown allowing us three days of exploration, we decided to follow up our cruisy day in Christchurch with a similarly laid back one in Queenstown. Our first order of business was lunch, and we opted to sample the local Thai flavour. We dined at the cute Thai Nam Thak – which has the misfortune of having the worst Pad Thai I’ve ever had, but did redeem itself a little with a nice basil and cashew chicken.
With full bellies to work off, we headed out to explore the city. This originally took the form of window shopping, but we soon decided to finish our Christmas shopping for one another by separating and filling hastily purchased Christmas stockings. I’m not sure what Fallon found (although I’m sure she’ll be writing about it on Fallon’s Healthy Life) – but I took a quiet moment to explore the water front. The foreshore was alive with activity – although very little of it in the icy cold water. Mostly people were content to lie on the grass, sit on the pebble strewn beach, or just walk along the manicured gardens that must be a picnicers paradise.
Fallon on the waterfront
Once our exploring and shopping was done, we headed over to the legendary Ferg Burger. I’d had four separate people text me to inform me I needed to eat there – and I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve heard it touted as having the best burgers in the world, and I can definitely see where people get it from. My Cock-a-doodle Oink burger was one of the best I’ve ever had, and Fallon was impressed enough with her choice to put Ferg Burger right into her top five.
The legendary Ferg BurgerEnjoying beers at Dux de Lux
From there we wandered over to Dux de Lux, a local brewery that does what might be one of my new favourite beers – the Ginger Tom. The entire place had a really good vibe to it, and we could have stayed longer had we not been so tired.
Day Two
Our second day in Queenstown was dedicated to our trip out to Milford Sound, but we still found opportunities to have some fun in the city once we got back.
We took dinner at the imaginatively titled ‘Hell’ restaurant, which does a variety of sinfully good pizzas. Pun intended. We split two of their vegetarian options and an order of delicious sweet potato fries and couldn’t have been happier. We even followed it up with one of their dessert pizzas – which we enjoyed on the waterfront despite the attentions of the ducks and seagulls that frequent the area.
One of the yummy vegetarian pizzas available at Hell
From there we took a leisurely stroll through the gardens before grabbing a few beers to take back to the hostel with us. There we played out a competitive game of Phase 10 with one of our fellow backpackers, who I’ll refer to as British Graham. I don’t think our paths are likely to gross again though, since he’s bound for Switzerland tomorrow morning.
Day Three
Our final day in Queenstown afforded us a rare opportunity to sleep in. We grabbed it with both hands and weren’t out of bed until half ten. After showering and getting ourselves collected, we headed down to the town to grab breakfast at Bob’s Weigh. The place specializes in breakfast food, and while they offer a lunch menu, I don’t know why anybody would turn down the opportunity to have vanilla cinnamon French toast, berry laden pancakes, a three egg omelet, or the remarkably satisfying veggie brekky. I know I was thoroughly pleased with Fallon’s breakfast suggestion.
Super excited for breakfast at Bob’s Weigh
With breakfast still heavy in our bellies we walked up to the base of Ben Lomond. Soaring almost 2 kms above sea level, the Douglas fir clad mountain is the base of operations for the Queenstown Skyline Gondola, a bungie company, a pair of luge tracks, an epic looking downhill mountain biking course, and the Ziptrek Eco Tour we’d signed up for. It also happens to share a name with my hometown – which is pretty awesome.
The gondola ride up to the top of the mountain affords a spectacular view of the town and its surrounds, particularly the lake and Mount Cecil beyond. It’s a tad pricey at $25 for a return trip, but it’s better than hiking up the damned mountain.
Preparing to start out zipline tour of Queenstown’s Ben Lomond Mountain
The eco tour was a lot of fun. It’s also a tad pricey for the average backpacker ($119 for four lines, $189 for six) – but it’s worth the extra cash. The guys who run the tours are clearly quite passionate about the sustainable living mantra they preach, but they don’t let it detract from the purpose of your visit. The ziplines, of which Fallon and I did four, are a lot of fun. Whizzing through the canopy of the thick fir forest is pretty invigorating, and there’s some wonderful views of the surrounding land to be snatched as you fly between tree houses.
I had the mixed fortune of having their brakes miss me and leave me stranded in the middle of a particularly lengthy line – but the discomfort was worth the view it gave me. And I was rescued soon enough by one of our guides, so all was well.
All told the tour took about two hours and was not only fun, but gave me quite a bit to think about with regards to how I lead my life and the mark I leave on the planet. In fact, our entire experience in New Zealand so far has shown me how beautiful the natural world can be if it’s not too heavily tampered with – as well as highlighting for me just how destructive a force humanity is. It saddens me to know I’ll never see a majestic Moa in the wild, and saddens me even more to know that my children might feel the same way about the Kiwi, Koala, or Tiger someday.
I now sit in one of the many cheap internet cafes that seem to dot Queenstown waiting for my dinner date with Fallon. We’re going to forgo trying something new and give Ferg Burger one last shot. Who knows when we’ll be here next? I do know that when I do return, there’s no shortage of Queenstown tours I’ve still yet to explore.
Tomorrow we’ve got a nine hour bus ride to the tiny village of Franz Josef, where we’ll check out some hot springs before our big day long glacier hike on Thursday. Loving New Zealand more than I thought I would. Such a gorgeous country.
From November of 2007 until September of 2009 I had the distinct pleasure of being a resident and night life mainstay in Gwangju, South Korea. What had first appeared to me as an intimidating and grey place full of ill mannered ajummas and ajoshis ended up feeling more like home to me than any place I’d lived in Australia after leaving home. I spent my first two or three months there not actively engaged in the foreigner community – instead preferring to stick by Liz, Kirk, Joy, Brodie, Vanessa, and Kirk (affectionately known as the Cheomdan crew). Those days were a lot of fun, but I didn’t really feel at home in Korea until I immersed myself more fully in the wonderful foreigner community there.
When I first struck upon the idea of returning to Korea, I immediately began to remember with fondness my time in Gwangju: boozy nights spent singing along to Counting Crows in the Speakeasy, super unhealthy cheese toasties from the chicken lady at 4am, and suiting up with the Three Amigos in early 2009… I like to think I did more of my growing up in Gwangju than I did in the years I spent in high school and college. It was there that I shrugged off my introverted personality and discovered my inner extrovert, and there that I met so many people who have shaped who I am and where I want to be in life.
So, the original plan had been to head back to Gwangju and rekindle my love affair with the city. That wasn’t to be, but the mayor elect of Gwangju’s foreigner community approached me about writing a piece on why I wanted to come back to Gwangju – and I’m only too happy to answer his request.
So, as I adventure in New Zealand and prepare for next month’s return to Korea in a different city – here are my Top 10 reqasons why I loved and still love Gwangju.
#10 – The Lesser Known Foreigner Haunts
Enjoying some good live music in 2008
I’ve touched on my favorite Gwangju bars in a past top ten, but the Gwangju night life isn’t limited strictly to Mike & Dave’s Speakeasy and the German Bar – and it was this alternate haunts that ensured that a night out didn’t always act as a carbon copy of the one before it. While Abey was always my favorite hookah venue in Gwangju, in more recent years the very chill Ethnic Bar has moved higher in my regard. With a candle-lit pond at its centre and private cushion filled rooms for reclining and relaxing, it’s a nice change of pace from more crowded night spots.
There’s the musical delights of Crazy Horse where semi regular live gigs draw the community together in support of local talent, and I know I’m quite looking forward to finally hearing local legends, Feed the Boats live. Then there’s Joe Wabe’s Mexican themed Tequilaz, the ever popular Houze night club, the well kept secret of Soul Train, and the fruit soju of Fish & Grill that ensured my final nights in Gwangju were always off to a good start.
I’m sure I’ve missed a few. A year is a long time in terms of a city’s night life, but Im looking forward to heading back and experiencing new places in 2011.
#9 – Delicious Indian Food
Gwangju has some delicious kimchi and a lot of great local cuisine, but after a few months of it – you tend to hunger for anything not from the peninsula. You can always find a decent burger or steak at Outback Steakhouse or TGI:F, but I developed a real fondness for the Indian food available at Gwangju’s two Indian restaurants. You’ll hear fierce debate over whether Thali or First Nepal is the better, but I’d always appreciated the hands on customer service at the smaller Thali.
Indian food isn’t exclusive to Gwangju of course. Busan has the fabulous (but pricey) Ganga and Seoul has a veritable horde of options when it comes to international cusiine. There’s even two Australian restaurants dealing in meat pies and vegemite sandwiches!
In Gwangju though, where foreign fare is considerably more limited, I came to love the occasional night out for a different kind of spicy dish. You can find Thali and First Nepal both within walking distance of one another, and both offer a good menu and some friendly staff.
#8 – Beautiful Surrounds
Beautiful Dawesona temple, right outside of GwangjuThe stunning view from Unjusa
Gwangju is a sizable city, especially by the Australian standards I am used to, but it’s not without its natural beauty. The stunning Meudangsan National Park offers beautiful views of the city and some fantastic hiking, and there’s smaller but no less beautiful mountains scattered around the city to explore. I still have fond memories of a red wine fueled midnight hike up a mountain in my old neighborhood of Pungam-dong and the serenity that could be found just a few hundred metres from car choked streets and bustling sidewalks.
Korea is a built up nation but it does maintain its green reputation, and regardless of where in the city you are, you’re likely to find a quiet park to escape to. And if you fancy a little more isolation – the city is not so far from the beautiful temples of Unjusa and Daewonsa, the towering hike up Wolchusan, and the famous green tea fields and bamboo forest. No shortage of hikes, photo opportunities, and cultural experiences to be had.
#7 – Cheap Taxis
It might have changed in the year since I left, but I used to love the fact I could get from one side of Gwangju to the other for little more than 10,000 won (around $10). In my first year I lived in a relatively isolated corner of the country, but 8000 won and a twenty five minute cab ride would have me in the heart of the city and ready for a night of beer fueled mayhem. It also meant that regardless of where your wanderings would take you – chances were you could hail a cab, give them your address, and be sure you can get home with the change in your pocket.
It’s a welcome change from the $50 cab rides you’ll often find here in Sydney, and you’re actually more likely to have a conversation with a cab driver in Korea than you seem to be here. I’ve had some thoroughly entertaining chats in broken English and limited Korean with particularly chatty drivers.
#6 – Beach Trips
Oaedaldo proves popular in the summer months
This kind of goes hand in hand with #8, but it really does warrant a spot of its own. I’ve spoken of a rainy weekend spent on Bigeumdo in a previous entry, but it wasn’t my only beach trip from Gwangju. Every summer there seems to be weekly trips out to one of Mokpo’s islands or a nearby beach. Whether they’re a weekend long camping trip or a hit and run on some isolated stretch of sand and murky water masquerading as a beach – it’s never a bad thing to get out from amongst the concrete towers and stretch out and enjoy a little peace and quiet. It’s something you don’t hear a lot of in Korea.
Gwangju itself isn’t a beach town, but it’s serviced by a damned impressive bus terminal (see below) that runs services all over the country. You’re never too far from a bit of sun, sand, and meager surf.
#5 – The Underground Grocer
Residents of Seoul or Busan might be spoiled with a larger selection of foreign grocers, but Gwangju has just the one – run by Michael Simning and his dedicated crew of volunteers. Whether you’re after a turkey for Thanksgiving, a hard to find soda or spice, or just a few comforts from home – you’re likely to find it (and a good yarn with whoever is on duty) at the Underground Grocer. Located conveniently downtown by Migliore (which all cab drivers will know), the Underground Grocer is likely to be your best friend when the homsickness sets in and you’d kill for a pop tart or a can of root beer.
#4 – Gwangju Foreigner Day
Once a year every year the foreigner community in Gwangju gets together to celebrate the diversity in the region. Too often the term ‘foreigner community’ is used to refer specifically to Westerners, and it’s easy to forget that the area has a host of other nationalities represented. There’s a great carnival atmosphere as you arrive at the university and take in the sights, sounds, and smells. The food court offers up everything from hot dogs to Mexican burritos to Malaysian noodles to African cuisine – and there’s plenty of art to browse and used goods to be bought at the swap meet.
I’ve only had the pleasure of going to the 2008 edition, and I spent most of that mooning over a soon to be girl Friday, but I do remember having a great time. Sitting back in the Spring sun and drinking ice cold beers; listening to great live music in the talent show; and going back for seconds and thirds at different food venues. It’s a great chance to network with people who you might not have otherwise met, and a nice way to get out and see people in the light of day.
#3 – The Bus Terminal
I’ve heard it said that Gwangju’s Bus Terminal used to be the biggest in the world, and I can certainly see how somebody might come to that conclusion. It’s more than just a place to catch a bus – with dozens of speciality stores and cafes to choose from as well as a massive cinema, a rooftop bar, and a great arcade where you can waste all of your spare coins trying to win a stuffed toy or cheap mp3 player.
There’s always a lot to do at the Bus Terminal, but I love it most because it basically links you directly with the rest of the country. Want to go to Mokpo? Done. Take a bus up to Seoul or to the airport? Done. Over to Busan for a weekend on the beach? Done! Some isolated village where you’ve heard they have a fascinating temple? Done. I’ve never found a place I couldn’t get to from the terminal, and ticket prices are far more affordable than you come to expect from years of over-paying in the Western world.
I don’t know how it ended up in Gwangju, because you’ll find yourself marveling at how shoddy the terminals in bigger cities are, but I’m eternally grateful that it’s there.
#2 – The Foreigner Bars
Posing in front of the famous Speakeasy sign on my last night in Gwangju
I won’t go into huge detail on this front – as I’ve given rave reviews to Soul Train, the German Bar, and the Speakeasy in my Top 10 bars post, but it would be remiss of me to list off reasons I loved Gwangju without mentioning the bar scene.
I think part of the reason everybody loves shows like Cheers and How I Met Your Mother is that they have the feeling of coming home. You see these characters you know and care about on a regular basis, and they’re just living life. And walking into Speakeasy or German Bar always felt a bit like that. You’d step in out of the chill air and almost immediately have people look over at you with awave or a smile. There’d be hugs and shouts of beer and seats cleared so you could join the fun.
It’s addictive, being a part of something. I’m sure it’s something you can find in any city – foreigner communities are small and tend to be tight knit as a result – but I’ll always associate that feeling with Gwangju’s night life. From making requests to the DJ at Speakeasy to singing some terrible noraebang with the owner of the German Bar – it was all good, all the time.
#1 – Community Spirit
A cocktail party farewell for two Gwangju icons - Cass and Tracey. 2009.2008 Touch Football and Chili Cook-Off DayAll Zombie'd up for Halloween 2008
Earlier this year Gwangju mainstay Michael Simning was diagnosed with leukemia and desperately needed donations of blood. The way the community rallied around the guy who was the first point of contact for so many Gwangju residents was just inspiring. It wasn’t just on the ground either. Facebook and Twitter were afire with people putting out the word to residents past and present, and the locals even organized a benefit concert to raise money for Michael and his family.
It’s not uncommon for locals to help out in other ways either. For as long as I can remember people have been volunteering at the Sungbin Girls Orphanage and helping out with bake sales and other fundraising initiatives. One of my favorite nights in Gwangju was the Love for Sale auction – in which eligible singles were auctioned off for a date and all money went to the orphanage. While I might have sold for a criminally low 50,000 won (to a friend, no less) others fetched upwards of 300,000 won with their offers of drunken lap dances, expensive dinners, or professional house cleaning.
Then there’s the regular social events. The farewells and weddings; the old theme nights at the German Bar; gigs at the Speakeasy or Crazy Horse; the epic Halloween and New Year’s parties; the Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners; the fantasy football competitions and dart battles; monthly foreigner dinners; the Gwangju News; the touch football days and chili cook-offs…. Fact is, there’s always something going on in Gwangju.
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It’s exciting for me to be heading to a new city, but Gwangju is always going to hold a special place in my heart. As I said – it was the first place I ever felt truly at home after moving out of my childhood home. It might not have the beaches of Busan or the glamour of Seoul, but it’s got a lot of heart and soul. That counts for a hell of a lot.
I know I said we were done with guest posts for the time being, but fantastic bloggers keep coming out of the woodwork wanting to make a contribution. Today we’ve got Hannah, another of the Sydney Travel Tribe, discussing her plans for a Christmas abroad in Australia this year. Watch this space for an entry from Byron from Byron and His Backpackers about his experiences celebrating Christmas in Morocco in the not too distant future.
Hannah DeMilta is originally from Cleveland, Ohio but recently moved to Australia. She currently works at Sydney digital agency, Switched on Media as a Social Media Specialist. She is a graduate of Otterbein College majoring in Public Relations with a Deaf Culture/Language minor. Hannah is passionate about community service and learning about how we can use communication and technology for social good. She is a social personal online and offline. Feel free to connect with her via Twitter @HannahDeMilta
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When I decided to move to Sydney earlier this year I knew I would be making sacrifices and missing certain events back home. I got teary eyed looking through my cousins wedding photos on Facebook. It was tough seeing my family together, knowing that day wouldn’t be a memory I could share with them.
Despite those moments of homesickness, I really haven’t been facing this Christmas season with much fear. In fact I wasn’t worried about spending my first Christmas away from home until everyone started asking me about it. I began to wonder — maybe spending the holidays abroad will be tougher than I think?
A close friend from home is here visiting me over Christmas through the New Year. It’s nice to have her here when I do start to feel homesick. It also means a lot to me that she is spending her first Christmas away from home with me, especially because this trip to Australia is her first time out of the country. We are going to Melbourne for a long weekend and spending a week in Queensland traveling from Whitsundays to Cairns.
I guess it also helps that it hardly feels like the holiday season to me. I don’t know that I’ll ever associate warm weather with Christmastime, but I can’t really complain about sunshine. Hot chocolate, walking through blizzards and days stuck inside with warm sweaters and socks aren’t a part of Christmas in Australia. Santa is going to need to bring a change of clothes so he doesn’t overheat his big red suit when he arrives.
We’ve made plans to have a cookout on Shelly Beach with a big group of friends on Christmas day. While I’ll be missing the traditions at home I can’t help but feel blessed to have new traditions and memories while living abroad. It’s exciting and life here constantly delivers changes and new surprises. I think I’ll enjoy spending the holidays in Australia this year. A Christmas BBQ on the beach is a new adventure.
A photo from Hannah during a Christmas at home in the States
The first day of our whirlwind tour of New Zealand and Fiji could be summed up in two vastly different words – chaos and calm. In my first really big trip since last year’s United States adventure, I’ve had a little bit of both and maintained a smile through most of it.
After getting in to Christchurch so late the previous night, we slept late in our surprisingly comfortable hostel beds. We’d accidentally awoken our Eastern European room-mates when we’d arrived, but they’d managed far more discretion in their early morning departure. With the room to ourselves Fallon slept in an extra hour or so, and I got up to get started on documenting things.
By the time we’d showered and dressed it was almost 11am, and we made a leisurely walk down towards Cathedral Square. As we walked I felt a cold trickle of water run down my back, and hurriedly shrugged off my backpack to discover it was leaking water. I quickly pulled it open and fished around in a full inch of ice cold water – snatching up my Canon Sx20 IS and my iPod from the watery mess. the iPod, durable brick that it is, was fine – but my camera hasn’t been able to power up since its first (and apparently last) bath.
The fault lay with me, of course. I’d filled my water bottle for the day ahead but hadn’t secured the lid. Lesson learned. I was more annoyed at myself for not managing to bring along my small point and shoot – because now I’ll be relying on Fallon’s camera for any photography until I can find an affordable second hand model.
Still, Christchurch had turned out a beautifully sunny day for us and I wasn’t going to let a waterlogged camera stop me from enjoying myself. We dawdled towards Cathedral Square and eventually managed to find a courtesy shuttle running in that direction. The strains of ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ lifted my spirits just a little more.
I’d heard mixed reviews of Christchurch from our friends Dave & Jess, who only recently did their own tour of the shaky isle. But walking the sun dappled stones of the square and listening to cheery tune of a bone whistle – I was instantly enchanted. The Gothic cathedral, a sight in itself, is surrounded by all manner of eye catching things. A massive Christmas tree is flanked by a pair of London style telephone booths purporting to be a direct line to Santa. A large count-down clock ticks inevitably towards the 2011 Rugby World Cup, and a colourful array of market stalls immediately grabbed Fallon’s attention.
With our bellies rumbling we’d hoped to find a vendor, but instead happened upon a Scottish street performer enchanting a rapidly growing crowd with his charisma and cheeky sense of humour. We watched as he swallowed a balloon and brow beat his gawky volunteer, working towards the feat of having somebody stand on his chest on a bed of broken glass.
I'd imagine this particular Scotsman was most popular in prison
That someone, it turned out, was to be me. Looking for ‘someone with a bit of muscle and mass’, he picked me from the crowd and all 99 kilograms of me perched on his bare chest just a few moments later. Even stuck between an Aussie and a sharp place he still managed to keep the crowd laughing. It was a real treat to be a part of the show, and he was kind enough to pose for a photo with me afterwards.
I like to think I made his act
After the show we went back to the task of finding something more substantial than the snickerdoodle blondies Fallon had baked for the trip – and found a New York style sandwich bar in an arcade lined with garishly colored former terrace housing. I hadn’t been expecting much from my Little Italy slider, but the bread was hearty and the Elderflower flavored sparkling mineral water really hit the spot after we’d been out in the increasingly fierce sun.
Our bellies full, we headed back toward Cathedral Square to do a bit more exploring. We paid a visit to the iconic cathedral firstly. While it’s an Anglican cathedral, you’d be forgiven for assuming it was of the Catholic faith with its ostentatious decoration and decadence. I’ve been somewhat fascinated with churches ever since I read Ken Follet’s Pillars of Earth, and exploring the Christchurch Cathedral only further cemented that interest. I’d love to be able to tour different European churches, and cathedrals someday.
It was while walking through the church that I experience a feeling of complete peace. Despite all of the tourists bustling around and the distant sounds of traffic, the world seemed to quiet as I stood alone before the tabernacle. I’m not a particularly religious person, nor am I one taken to prayer, but I’ll confess to muttering a short prayer of thanks to whoever it is up there who watches over me. I’m healthy, I’m on my way back to doing what I love, my site has started to earn me a small amount of money, and I’m out traveling with one of the best friends I’ve ever had.
The moment was short lived, and soon we were off to explore the city again. It was time for a bit of boredom as I trailed Fallon through the markets with a frozen yogurt to keep me company. I should point out that she’s been most accommodating of my need to stay connected though – so I won’t begrudge her a little window shopping.
The Scottish entertainer had been replaced by a small troupe of local girls raising money for their Irish dance recital and a local crazy preaching nonsense to an audience of none. The way the square plays host to a whole host of community spirit is just so enchanting. You get that festival vibe wandering in Darling Harbour or even Circular Quay, but this was a far more sedate kind of festivity. Buskers were spaced far enough apart that they didn’t clash, and rather than rushing too and fro – tourists seemed content to loll in the great leafy shade of the trees that dot the courtyard and just soak in the day.
Giant chess sets make any park or gathering place coolerAll tuckered out in Christchurch
Fallon’s shopping bug continued as she investigated a string of local souvenir shops, so I stretched out on a comfortable looking bench and pulled my hat down over my eyes for a mid afternoon nap. With the tree shading me from the sun and the slightest of breezes to cool the sweat on my brow, I drifted off for a good half hour before the awkwardness of my angle woke me up and I went off in search of Fallon.
Dinner found us exploring Christchurch in search of the Twisted Hops Pub. Fallon and I have always shared a love of a good microbrewed beer, and we weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to sample some New Zealand flavour while we had the chance. The brewery lies down Poplar Lane with about four other similarly cute eateries and pubs. It all felt as I’d imagine it must feel to eat in an Italian city – with clientele seeming to mingle in the open courtyard that existed between the Vespa and the Twisted Hops.
A cute wine bar in Poplar LaneSuper excited about the local Kiwi dropOne of the two breweries in Poplar LaneSitting area outside of the Twisted Hops Pub
We took up the six beer sampler and ordered up meals – Fallon grabbing beer battered fish with sweet potato fries and me opting for the BBQ ribs with fries on the side. Our healthy eating begins anew in Queenstown, but for the time being we indulged ourselves. We’re on vacation after all!
A little sleepy from the beer and the food, we made our way back to the hostel to get ourselves packed for our 8am flight to Queenstown. A beer in front of the TV with a few of our fellow backpackers was a fitting end to a very chill day, and now it’s off to bed before the fun and adventure of New Zealand’s adrenaline capital.
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