Parts of Christchurch saddened Wyn Drabble. Photo / NZME
Parts of Christchurch saddened Wyn Drabble. Photo / NZME
I was hoping to finish this pleasant nostalgic series of columns on a high note but I'm afraid Christchurch saddened me, especially given that I had spent such happy student days there without really getting into too much student-type trouble.
There were lots of sorry sights but I'll list justsome: graffiti-covered buildings in various states of disrepair; empty property sites fenced off as if to protect the weeds growing therein; a crumbling building held up by three large containers stacked atop each other; derelict buildings with most windows smashed; orange traffic cones arranged in bewildering mazes; a homeless figure cocooned in a sleeping bag at the doorway of a defunct Riccarton vape shop at 3pm.
In fairness, I should add that I also saw homeless people in both Oamaru and Timaru. Well, one apiece.
Decades ago, Saturday morning shopping gave vibrancy to New Brighton but now the main street is more of a ghost town with boarded-up shops and tagging. Tumbleweeds would not look out of place.
Down at the beachfront some fun elements have been added – a children's playground and a hot water pools enclosure, for example – but patrons need to keep their eyes averted from the derelict main street or they could ruin the vibe.
A couple of hardy young swimmers emerged from the New Brighton surf only to stand shivering in front of a padlocked men's changing room. The neighbouring women's was unlocked so they might have taken the chance but I didn't wait around to see. Time was short and I was still in search of a penguin snowglobe.
Aha, you thought I was going to give you a break from flightless bird mementoes, didn't you!
No, because New Zealand's largest mainland colony of little blue penguins can be found on Banks Peninsula outside of Christchurch. It is also home to a species of white-flippered little blue penguins only found in Canterbury.
Handier to town is the Antarctic Centre which houses only rescue penguins, birds which suffer from a physical disability or simply got into trouble in their natural environment. Not wanting to spoil my record of seeing no penguins I avoided a visit even though I had a very good chance of finding a penguin snowglobe there.
Or I could have cheated. I read that there is a gastropub in New Brighton called The Penguin Arms so I could have visited it for a vicarious penguin experience. The name I suppose rolls more trippingly from the tongue than The Penguin Residual Wing Stubs.
Lest I appear too gloomy about the Garden City, I should also mention the positive signs for there were some. Little pockets of joie de vivre exist in the form of outdoor eateries such as the riverside ones on Oxford Tce just near the Bridge of Remembrance.
I must say I admire the resilience of southerners who sit outside with their favoured tipple even on the coldest nights. Little pods of warmth from gas heaters can surely do little to alleviate the effects of the bone-chilling evenings; are those burners not the heating equivalent of leaf blowers?
In the same location there is another quite exciting development, Riverside, a seven-day-trading market linked to a vibrant network of boutiques, cafes and bars. I did not spot any tawdry tourist pap on offer here so it looks like my penguin snowglobe hope is a goner.
Another positive is the slogans painted on various (mostly temporary) walls around the town. They share the theme, "We will be back".
If you can sit outside at night in that southern cold then I have no doubt that you have the resilience to bounce back.
