B.L.F.P.

The New Year is only three days away but it’s hard to notice because of the summer weather. I’m still used to seeing mounds of snow & feeling minus degree temperatures but not this time. It’s hard to believe how fast time flies when you’re not looking. So much has happened in the last 365 days, from the controversial Beijing Olympics to the electing of Barack Obama, the first Black President of the USA. It’ll be a year to be missed . . . or forgotten if you’re one of the millions of victims suffering from the global recession.

Like last Saturday, I went on another scenic bike ride to the eastern side of Christchurch, exploring more unvisited neighbourhoods. The lucky residential districts (Queens Park, Parklands, & Waimairi Beach) are located north of my previous excursion, New Brighton Beach. The layout and appearance of these districts remind me of Orleans, an eastern suburban neighbourhood in my hometown of Ottawa, except the houses are bungalows and palm trees are the favoured flora.

I seem to be examining a lot of residential properties, preferring contemporary (modern) bungalow designs, and watching a lot of housing programs on TV dealing with purchasing, selling, and renovating. My favourite programs are Location [x3], Relocation Relocation, and Grand Designs. I’m at that age where I want to buy and live in my dream house/apartment, but the problem is that my total net worth is laughably low.

Bottle Lake Forest Park (BLFP) sits north of Queens Park & Parklands, giving people a place to get-away-from-it-all and walk, bike, and even horseback in the wilderness. The park is actually a large pine tree plantation, giving it a Canadian appearance, and it hides many walking and biking trails. I found it odd that it’s also home to a small landfill. Biking through this park is fun & exciting but you have to remember that you’re best friends are dead pine needles & rocks – avoid biking in sand! I made my way to Waimairi Beach and enjoyed the sounds of crashing waves and the ocean winds. The opening scenes of the movie Saving Private Ryan flashed in my mind as I gazed at the undamaged coastline, imagining it to be fortified like the beaches of Normandy in 1944.

The bike ride back to campus was an adventure because I wanted to see if I could get back without having to rely on a map. I spent quite an amount of time stuck in suburbia, trying to find the main roads that lead to the city centre. The method of trial & error can be tedious at times but I was able to make it back to my residence just in time to watch Grand Designs where an architect succeeds in rescuing and renovating an abandoned English castle. The bad news was that he was left with a 350,000₤ debt, and my legs were aching after the long bike ride.

Well, this will be last post for the year that once was, 2008, and I would like to wish everyone a Happy New Year! All I have to do now is think of several achievable resolutions for next year and wonder if the OC Transpo strike in my hometown of Ottawa will last longer than the previous 24-day strike of 1996.

See you all in 2009!

Tandem

You only live once, so I went skydiving.

Tandem skydiving to be precise. Why exactly? Well, let’s just say I wanted to feel independent in the extreme sense. Or, I wanted to celebrate the passing of the halfway mark (six months) in my Middle Earth exchange. If that reason didn’t work, then . . . it was a Christmas gift to myself. I have pages of excuses, I could go on.

Tandem skydiving involves being strapped to a professional skydiver via a tight harness, and you descend together at terminal velocity (220kph). The professional opens the parachute, and guides you towards the ground in one piece. You’re just in for the wild ride. And what a wild ride it is, was, and always will be.

Skydiving is widely advertised in New Zealand and I always had the curiosity of trying it. Skydiving NZ is a thrill seeking business that operates out of the old control tower at Wigram Airfield (just steps away from the cadet unit I joined). The jumping altitudes they offer are 9,000 and 12,000 feet. I figured if this would be the first and last time I’d jump out of a plane, I was going to do it from the highest altitude possible.

My original plan was to jump this past Friday but rain forced me to postpone it to Monday. The weather was perfect today – sunny with clear skies.

Before jumping into the plane, you’re instructed to watch a short video on how the experience will look like, get fitted into a colourful (red, yellow, blue) jumpsuit, and briefed about how to properly exit the plane. There’s the option of getting your experience filmed & photographed then burned onto DVD.

Following the tradition of commercial airlines, the main aircraft used by Skydiving NZ had to be grounded for some time because the startup batteries needed to be replaced. During the anxious waiting, I walked around, went to the washroom 5 or 6 times, and watched customers ahead of me descend from 9,000 feet. I was shaking a bit, hoping not to ‘chicken out’ at the last minute. Although the staff didn’t draw attention to it, I’ll say that it’s imperative that you follow the golden rule – Dump Before You Jump! (This rule applies to bungee jumpers as well). That’s one incident you don’t want happening in the air. As an added precaution, I swallowed some Gravol to prevent the possibility of vomiting.

The main aircraft was ready when my turn came. There was no turning back now. Seven people including myself squished into the back and anxiously waited during the 15 minutes required by the young pilots to reach 12,000 feet. When we were one minute from jumping, we were instructed to put on our goggles and hold onto our harnesses. When the cameraman opened the door, -10 degree Celsius air filled the cabin. The cameraman leaned out to let me move my feet over the edge. Reality hit me one last time - I couldn’t believe I was going to do this. With nothing to lose, I tilted my head & feet back, and nodded when I was asked if I was ready. The next thing I knew, I was falling towards Middle Earth.

The experience was just . . . wow! It’s near impossible to explain! It feels like . . . falling towards a high-powered fan blowing in your face! At first, you want to grab something to stop the fall but there’s nothing and so you just let go and ride it out. There was no time to panic or scream; it just leaves you breathless. Several seconds into the fall, my tandem partner, Miro, a Slovakian with 32 years experience & over 4000 jumps, tapped my shoulders, telling me it was okay to spread out my arms. The terminal velocity speed was incredible! I did my best to look happy for the camera, and at one point I thought my goggles would fly off.

Suddenly, Miro opened his parachute and we stopped falling. Only 45 seconds had passed. While gazing at the majestic 360-degree view, I thanked myself for choosing 12,000 feet – the fall happened too fast. Miro let me take control of the parachute and we descended like a dandelion seed towards the airfield below. Before touching the ground, I was instructed to put my legs up and we slid onto the ground in front of the waiting cameraman. “That was amazing!” I proclaimed, silently noting that I was still alive in one piece.

The experience was absolutely euphoric . . . until I received the bill. The jump, the documentation, and production of the DVDs came to a total of $608NZD. Expensive but worth it; I’m so doing it again in the future. I used to be afraid of heights when I was growing up but I think this experience has rendered the fear almost non-existent. I hope the DVDs turned out great because they’re proof of my daredevil experience as well as Christmas presents for family & friends.

I encourage my family & friends to try it before it’s too late. The experience will blow you away!

New Brighton Beach

Not wanting to waste a clear sunny Saturday, I decided to go for a bike ride, one that would keep me physically fit and last most of the day. Biking in Middle Earth is pretty much the same as anywhere else in the world, as long as you follow the golden rule - 'Keep Left'. The only time you can bike against traffic is on the sidewalk. My destination was a neighbourhood on the other side of Christchurch called New Brighton. It’s situated on the coast and has a beach called New Brighton Beach (naturally) and I wanted to see if it resembled the Brighton Beach neighbourhood in New York City.

My older brother and I visited the Brighton Beach neighbourhood back in 2004, not for the swimming, but because of its criminal history. Russian immigrants settled in BB and would later succumb to the infiltration & influence of the Red Mafiya. ‘Unfortunately,’ my brother & I didn’t see or meet any mobsters, just gazed at the Russian shops, and endless lines of Mercedes cars parked in front of lower class apartment blocks.

While I biked through downtown Christchurch, I wondered if New Brighton was under Red Mafiya influence. Along the way, I was surprised to see an Ottawa Road sign so I photographed it. Christchurch seems to like Canadian city names; there’s a Montreal Street downtown and a Vancouver Street in another suburb. Thinking the day was perfect in every way, I jumped a street curb with my bike and received a flat tyre. Overconfidence doesn’t work. On the plus side, I was near a Mobile gas station so I walked the distance with my bike on my back. A car wash cleaner named Jim offered his services despite having a job to finish, and helped me fix my punctured air tube and fill up my tyre with air. It turns out Jim is a Gideon, which explains why he was so helpful and solved my problem. Well, better a Gideon than those bothersome Jehovah Witnesses.

The New Brighton Beach area is a place to spend money. A street mall housing shops & restaurants, and decorated with many tall palm trees, greeted me as I rode closer to the sounds of rushing water. Beyond the street mall sits the New Brighton Library, an oval structure showing off its modern architecture. The library hides the New Brighton Pier, a 300 metre long concrete walkway that lets people walk out to sea without fear of getting wet. Just wear a sweater or a coat because it can get pretty windy. Below the pier, an artist was crafting a portrait in the sand using a rake and it was almost complete when I had arrived. Naturally, energetic swimmers and surfers, wanting to enjoy the waves that wash up along the shoreline, visit the beach on a regular basis.
After enjoying the tropical setting and not finding any Red Mafiya establishments, I continued my bike ride into the small residential neighbourhood of South New Brighton. The houses are of tropical designs, resembling a Miami setting but there were none that interested me in buying. Riding wilderness bike paths in South New Brighton Park was a lot of fun and enjoyable. While heading back to my residence, the Bromley Sewage Treatment Works caught my attention because the main buildings were two huge white domed structures.

Overall, my bike ride turned out great – I received some much needed fresh air and exercise. I saw a neighbourhood I hadn’t visited previously, and spent time away from my residence. I’ll do another such bike ride in the future but it’ll have to wait because other priorities require my attention.

Summer News

Even though the Christmas holidays are weeks away, the stores here in Middle Earth have fully embraced the spirit and are enticing curious shoppers to do the same. As well, there have already been several Santa Claus parades. For me, it feels weird to be bombarded with Christmas carols and holiday deals when there’s no cold or snow falling outside. It does get annoying & even distracting when you don’t have a shopping list to keep you focused. Apparently, Santa Claus always has a case of Coca-Cola to keep him awake when he travels around the world delivering presents.

At least I haven’t had to suffer shopping stampedes like the ones in North America. I’ve seen some Internet videos and it’s kind of scary to see people acting like cattle, rushing into Wal-Mart and Circuit City, buying stuff they don’t really need. I wonder how Boxing Day will be like in the Commonwealth countries?

Checking overseas, it would appear that winter has really deteriorated my Canadian homeland. I just heard from a friend that the public transportation service (OC Transpo) in my hometown of Ottawa has decided to strike right when the snow really starts coming down. The last time they striked was twelve years ago.

The political situation isn’t better with Parliament being suspended until January 2009. It seems to be following the same course as the political crises in Ukraine but I doubt it would escalate to the point of riots we see in Greece right now. It’s too cold. And I’ll spare you my feelings towards the sacking of Liberal Leader Stephane Dion.

Speaking of politics, the newly elected New Zealand government is settling in and dealing with the economic problem by introducing a stimulus package. Over here, I guess politicians work during the summer months and break for the winter. Even though the credit crunch doesn’t affect me personally, I’m hoping the government’s actions will produce positive results, because Middle Earth suffered the most when the stock market crashed back in 1987.

On a personal level, the Royal Conservatory of Music (RCM) has invited me to a convocation ceremony in the New Year to congratulate me on achieving a Piano Performer’s ARCT (June 2008) and hand me my diploma. Problem – I’m half a world away. Well, I may not be able to attend the ceremony but my diploma will be mailed to me in a gold plated frame! I know. Not even Carleton University gave me that option when I achieved my BA History in June 2007.

Next up, gold plated toilet seats for my future apartment!

Summer Days

Out with the cold & in with the hot. Summer has arrived in Middle Earth bringing with it hotter and sunnier weather. While Canada disappears under mountains of white snow, New Zealand bakes under the sun. Trees & bushes flap freely in the gentle summer wind, not caring that Ilam Village has turned into a ghost town overnight.

The majority of rooms at my residence complex have been vacated. Only a few remain occupied by summer students. I can hear the grass growing and no longer have to endure loud drunken partying students at night. Unlike my older brother in AUS, I didn’t have the joy of collecting or inheriting unwanted possessions from departing students.

Two students have already moved out of my flat, with another doing so this weekend. If I remain the sole resident, I may be instructed to move into a different flat even though I wouldn’t mind having an entire 5 bedroom apartment to myself.

Two weeks ago, students in my program held a semester end party at their flat, and from what I gathered was that everyone was satisfied with the first half of the program. Some will be staying to work while others will be travelling abroad before classes resume on February 9^th, 2009. 2009. Less than a month away. Hard to believe how fast the years go by when you’re not pay attention.

I’m planning on visiting my brother in AUS sometime during the summer. We just need to work out the details such as airfare, what sites to visit, and when to go. I so want to take a picture of a road train.

To save money in the long run, I purchased a mountain bike, helmet, and bike lock from a Canadian friend for $200NZD. Using it saves me around $6 of bus fare per day, and I’m able to use it for exercise.

I’ve been keeping myself up-to-date on current events happening on the international stage via the Internet, such as the Mumbai Terrorist Attacks, the American economy, the situation in Thailand, the Air New Zealand crash in France, and Canadian politics. All I’ll say is that India will recover from the attacks, Obama will fix the economy, Kiwi tourists will be rescued from Thailand, and Liberal Leader Stephane Dion will save Canada by ousting the current Conservative government by forming a coalition government with the left leaning NDP.

I completely forgot about the Grey Cup until I read a recent post on my brother’s BLOG. The only sports mentioned here are rugby & cricket, and they are played everywhere right now, especially in Hagley Park. The Canadian Football League (CFL) runs a tournament consisting of 8 teams battling it out for the chance to win the Grey Cup in late November. The American equivalent would be the Super Bowl, organized by the National Football League (NFL). I usually watch the Grey Cup & Super Bowl with my father & brother, but I guess this year will be an exception. I will miss the memories of downing soft drinks and munchies, while my father & brother add their own aural commentaries to the action, as well as their trademarked cheer, ‘He! Could! Go! All! The! Way!’, all while my mother quietly shakes her head upstairs.

Perhaps I should take up a sport like cricket, because even after watching the game, I still can’t figure out how the scoring works and why some players can only catch the ball with their bare hands? Catching mitts should be allowed cause they really whip that ball. If I was daring enough, I would consider rugby but due to my size, I’d get trampled.

Until next time, I’ll leave you with a popular Internet video titled Elephant On Trampoline.

M.T.P.: Whale Watching

The last day spent with my parents was hectic, but fun nonetheless. The plan called for another train excursion, this time on the TranzCoastal, a rail line that snakes its way along the coast of Middle Earth, from Christchurch to Picton. Unlike the previous excursion, my parents & I would get off the train at the town of Kaikoura to partake in a whale-watching trip.

As always, the train station was bustling with activity when we arrived in the very early morning. This time, two groups would be coming along for the ride: primary school students, and Asian tourists. Luckily, the students had a carriage all to themselves so no one else had to suffer their overly energetic behaviours. Also, my parents had to bring their suitcases with them because they would continue travelling north, eventually reaching the city of Auckland.

The TranzCoastal ride was better in my mind, not making as many stops as the TranzAlpine. The only difficulty was when taking photographs – timing was important so as to avoid capturing passing by trees and only the majestic coastline.

We arrived at the coastal town of Kaikoura at around 10 in the morning, the weather being a mix of clear & overcast skies, and strong winds. My parents freed themselves from dragging their suitcases around by locking them up at the train station. Despite the presence of strong winds, the whale watching trips were still on but with warnings of seasickness. The warnings didn’t bother me because I had plenty of Gravol pills to combat any nausea. My mother decided to stay behind due to a severe headache caused by the weather.

My dad & I, along with 40 other tourists were bused to the marina where our vessel named the Te Ao Marama was waiting. In case the unthinkable happened, I swallowed 2 Gravol pills just as our ship slowly pulled out of the marina. It then accelerated to 20 knots (40km/h), heading into the open sea searching for the marine wildlife the passengers came to see.

Whale watching has its ups & downs (not referring to the water currents), the kind the wildlife documentaries forget to tell you. Since the whales were not in a zoo, the trained crews had to find the whales using sonar and help from a friendly helicopter circling above. When the captain stopped the vessel for the third time to take a sonar reading, I quietly joked to my dad that we had a better chance of finding Jimmy Hoffa than any humpback whales. No sooner had I said that, the helicopter above spotted a surfaced sperm whale. We raced over and watched it take on air before diving for another deep feeding, its tail rising in the air before disappearing beneath the surface.

Before the captain turned the ship towards shallow waters, we watched another sperm whale perform the same routine. Upon entering shallow waters, we were greeted by a school of dolphins, happily swimming under the wake of the boat and jumping out of the water. The only way to capture this spectacle was through filming because it was impossible to catch an action shot. We also circled a large rock island, home to a number of seals, and hundreds of birds.

We were supposed to see a humpback whale that had been spotted earlier but time had run out and the whale had done a good of hiding. I would say the whale watching was worth the $150NZD for 2 hours. Just make sure to bring Gravol to combat seasickness.

My dad & I met up with my mom back at the train station and entertained her with our whale watching stories. We spent the rest of the time munching on snacks at the café and walking along the coast, snapping family pictures.

The next thing we knew, it was time for me to catch the train back to Christchurch. My parents would stay behind and catch the train heading north to Picton where they would catch the ferry to Wellington on the North Island. We hugged and said our goodbyes as I boarded the train for a quiet ride home. My parents thanked me for being their tour guide and proclaimed their trip a success.

It was great to see my parents again, the last time being in late June. My parents’ visit also restarted the clock on how long I’ve survived without them. My record now stands at 19 weeks. To break it, I have to last until April 2009, alone. I’m ready.

End of Meet The Parents 5 part mini-series.

M.T.P.: Trains, Pains, & Automobiles

The buzzing noise from an alarm clock breaks the early morning silence in my parents’ hotel room. My body stirs, trying to drown out the annoying sound and wanting to go back to sleep. As much as I want to, I can’t drift back into the dream world because I risk missing the train. My subconscious adventures will have to wait.

When my parents were planning the NZ portion of their Down Under & Middle Earth Tour (DUMET), I had suggested doing a train excursion. They happily agreed, having already experienced several excursions in Australia. A company by the name of Tranzscenic operates 3 excursions: TranzAlpine, TranzCoastal, & The Overlander. For Saturday we would be travelling the TranzAlpine line, Christchurch – Greymouth – Christchurch, a trip that would take us around & through Middle Earth’s mountains for the entire day.

In the 21^st century, a vacation just isn’t complete without several ‘bumps’ along the way. Simply put, I’m talking about annoyances. No matter how good the plan looks like on paper, the experience can be completely different. Despite arriving at the train station in the early morning, there was already a queue to the check in desks. Typical. The senior guy behind the desk accidentally wrote our seat reservations in reverse, telling us to go to our return trip seats. We were greeted by a group of British tourists who looked as confused as we were. After the mix up, we were in our proper seats and on our way.

The train left Christchurch at a moderate speed and travelled across the Canterbury Plains. Memories of travelling to Temple Basin surface in my mind as rolling grass fields fly by. Minus the hordes of sheep, my parents agreed with my earlier observation that rural NZ is similar to Canada. There were many breathtaking views of mountains, plains, and deep river canyons. While gazing at the river canyon below, I imagined flying within its walls in a fast commercial helicopter. The train carried two viewing carriages – standing areas with no windows – giving tourists the freedom to capture the magnificent landscapes on digital cameras.

The TranzAlpine had to stop several times to unload & take on regular passengers, meaning slower speeds and waiting times. Despite the stops being brief, they stretched out the ride to 4 hours in both directions.

For the hungry & thirsty few, there’s a café carriage selling various non-alcoholic drinks, and snacks. My mom bought a cappuccino & a mediocre muffin to keep herself, my dad & I awake during the slow portions of the ride. This came in handy when the train crossed the mountains via a 9.6km tunnel. A dark black void surrounded the train for 15 minutes. Quite the quiet experience.

The train rolled into Greymouth at lunchtime and we had just one hour to explore the town before catching the return train. We settled for a small hotel restaurant near the station and enjoyed fish & chips. On top of that, my mother was impressed with the amount of artistic preparation put into the cappuccino she ordered.

The return trip was uneventful but more relaxing because our carriage was only half filled, allowing us to claim a 4 seat cubicle for ourselves. Overall, I give the TranzAlpine day excursion 3 stars despite the logistical problems we encountered. The quality could be improved if the issues of café quality, train speed, and logistics are addressed.

To Be Continued . . .

M.T.P.: Golden Year

My parents & I paid the Arts Centre another visit on Saturday, wanting to check out the weekend market. Every Saturday, hundreds of vendors assemble on an outdoor plaza behind Dux de Lux bar & restaurant to sell their goods to curious shoppers. We spent some time squeezing past prospective customers and glancing at what was on sale: summer & winter clothing, jewelry, various drinking glasses, candy, pottery, and food. A passerby summed up the market as ‘over hyped & overpriced’ to his friend. The only stall that caught my attention was the one that sold contemporary NZ wall tiles for houses & apartments. In the end, we only bought a bag of nuts from an Egyptian vendor.

We progressed to the Christchurch Public Art Gallery, intending to see its immense collections of art. The main lobby is immense and well lit by natural light that shines through the large curved glass windows. The stairs leading up to the second floor are decorated by hundreds of multi-coloured cards. The galleries on the first floor contained the contemporary . . . um, ‘works’. I’m using quotation marks because I wouldn’t call them works – they’re orderly messes.

I don’t want to rant but I just can’t walk by and say nothing. The first gallery contained several sculptures that are fine except the artist decided to showcase them on top of white beams that stretched to the ceiling! You could barely see them! Another mess was displayed on a digital screen in the main hallway and all it showed was three guitars slowly falling to the floor in succession. That’s art!? In another gallery, there were two explicit ‘works’ involving tin, and glass balls, thus convincing me that both artists should be registered sex offenders. A corner in the same gallery is occupied by a collection of stacked cardboard boxes with yellow plastic fruits littered amongst them. My dad quietly and accurately commented, ‘It takes no talent or thought to put that together.’ And don’t get me started on the cleaning detergents encased in an empty fish tank. I’m a liberal person but even I know the difference between art and garbage being passed off as art. There’s already a showcase for the latter; it’s called the dump.

A great Canadian example would be a painting that’s on display at the National Art Gallery (NAG) in Ottawa. NAG bought the ‘work’ for $1.76 million and all it contains is 3 vertical stripes: blue, red, blue. Two words: Rip Off!

However, there was one contemporary work that I found innovative. The artist had collected many various paper currencies, glued them in their groups and drew intricate natural leaves on them to create a flora.

The second floor contained mostly classical & romantic paintings that were very soothing after seeing the first floor. Here, you knew what you were looking at and admiring. I pointed out a particular portrait to my parents and jokingly remarked, ‘Now that’s a painting I’d wake up to!’

Instead of lunch, we decided to have a light wine & cheese snack at the wine bar named The Alchemy, happily established within the Art Gallery. It was the perfect way to start a Saturday afternoon break as well begin celebrating my dad’s birthday. We emptied a bottle of rose sparkling wine and cleared a plate decorated with various cheeses, crackers, fruits, and breads.

We journeyed back to the Arts Centre to check out the Ernest Rutherford museum. Rutherford was a New Zealand born physicist, known as the father of nuclear physics. He taught at Canada’s McGill University for 8 years and won the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1908.

After spending a portion of the late afternoon in an Internet café and watching Kiwis play a large game of chess, we went to Trevinos again to continue celebrating my dad’s birthday. I was thankful that I had made reservations a month ago because a business club of some kind arrived, took over the other half of the restaurant and turned it into a drinking and karaoke party. As well, the restaurant happened to be understaffed that night and when that party started it was tough for staff to sort out all the meals. The understaffing only affected us when it came to ordering dessert – at least we were full with our main courses. My dad enjoyed the Fish of the Day, my mom had Chicken Curry, and I settled for a Salmon Steak. Trevinos is definitely a restaurant worth visiting.

Saturday night was spent at my parents’ hotel room because we would be getting up bright & early on Sunday to catch our train for an all day excursion. The Roma Hotel on Riccarton has a 4 plus star rating, despite the washroom doors not having locks. We settled into our beds early in the night to get much needed rest for tomorrow. What a train ride it would turn out to be.

To Be Continued . . .

M.T.P.: Arts & Gardens

Friday happened to be Show Day (coinciding with the agricultural festival at the time), meaning there were no classes, and I was able to spend my freedom with my parents. I arrived at their hotel room in the early sunny morning for breakfast consisting of fried eggs, orange juice, and buttered toast, homely prepared by Mom. Once our appetites were satisfied, we set off to explore the city of Christchurch. Although I mentioned the festival, my parents instead chose to explore Hagley Park and the downtown Arts Centre.

My parents were surprised at the size and well kept appearance of Hagley Park, with vast fields of green grass and tall trees. I led them to a crossing bridge over a small river, one of the many entrances to the Botanic Gardens. The river we crossed was filled with many ducks swimming upstream and competing for pieces of bread thrown from human onlookers. The gardens were bustling with tourists and Christchurch residents, enjoying a quiet section of land not consumed by urban development. My mother was impressed with the large variety of plants & flowers, professing that my grandmother (her mother) would be in heaven. My dad on the other hand was awe struck by the mammoth trees growing into the clear blue sky. We spent quite some time photographing flowers for memories and to send to friends & relatives.

Along the way, we visited a small art gallery featuring glass works by New Zealand artists. Like I mentioned before, too much space and not enough works. On the plus side, two contemporary glass works greatly impressed me (I wasn’t allowed to take pictures though): an aqua green curve and a black & silver glass tower. I was shocked when I was informed that it would cost me $40,000NZD to buy both works. And you thought gas prices were too high?

After the gallery came the Canterbury Museum, a large 19^th century looking building containing many exhibits on Antarctic expeditions, pre-historic to modern New Zealand, Maori culture, famous people, and of course, the gift shop.

Wanting a break, my parents & I had a light lunch at Le Café, located at the Arts Centre. The Arts Centre used to be a girls college in the late 19^th century. The campus buildings remain, but various shops, restaurants, and two theatres currently occupy the rooms. The food was well prepared, the three of us splitting a large Caesar salad, 4 small bacon club sandwiches, and a bottle of white house wine.

We would return to the Arts Centre later that evening to watch the funny/serious Israeli movie The Band’s Visit, recipient of many international film awards. The movie is about an Egyptian police band being stranded in the Israeli town of Beta Tikvah for a day because the band’s ‘playboy’ mispronounced the town they were supposed to perform in – Peta Tikvah. Lucky for the strict conductor, the performance wasn’t until the following day. I won’t go into details as to what happens but it’s a film I would definitely recommend to anyone.

Before the movie, my parents paid a last visit to Cathedral Square, the city centre of Christchurch. They were impressed with the layout of the cathedral whereas I felt uneasy seeing swastikas painted on one of the mural walls. I’m well aware that in ancient times the swastika was a symbol for good luck but a well known event spanning 12 years in the early half of the 20^th century has me thinking otherwise.

With evening approaching fast, my parents & I made our back to the hotel and stopped into a bar & restaurant named Soho! for beer and a light dinner. Soho! is managed by the Parkview On Hagely Hotel.

Now that I think about it, my parents saw a lot in one day and walked several kilometres in total. There would be much more sight seeing on Saturday.

To Be Continued . . .