Having had a good night’s sleep in the Olympian beds we divvied up Somer’s fantastic tips for Christchurch, but where to start?  Dmitri’s for Souvlakis?  Dux De Lux for their fabled ginger beer?  Or check out the cathedral?

The hostel staff also booked trips, campers and travel for the inmates from the front desk so before leaving for the city, I asked whether our warden could get our camper quote any lower, hoping that maybe they’d throw us in a few days insurance.  She surpassed those expectations by a country mile.  We ended up with a quote for literally hundreds of dollars less than mine for a better equipped 2-berth camper with sink, hob  and an electric hookup that would later prove itself as a must-have.  With the camper booked we eventually set off to explore Christchurch.

The Jailhouse is on Lincoln Road, about 20 minutes walk out of the city centre and five hundred yards from the south east corner of South Hagley Park.  We walked the length of the park and turned left past the hospital into the Botanical Gardens.  The gardens were beautiful and a good hour passed as we were surrounded by the crisp autumnal colours and memorial gardens.  We stopped at the river Avon to watch the ducks, both of us thinking and talking about home, feeling far away from it; how Tomos would love the duckies, how Mum would love the gardens, how Parry would love that it’s free to get in…

We left the gardens and crossed by the Punting shack onto Oxford Terrace, taking another ornamental bridge onto what we’d later realise was “the strip”, a line of riverside bars and cafés on the Avon.  The day passed slowly and we enjoyed the shops, the Englishness of the whole place and I was tempted more than once to grab a quick hot dog in Cathedral Square.  I abstained and we both found warm, full stomachs in the bottom of a steaming bowl of Wagamamas.

We managed a complete circuit of the centre until weary legs and dry palettes brought us to the Bog on Cashel St.  Cider was the order of the day in this Irish bar and we added Mac’s Cider to our growing list of Antipodean-stocked apple tipples.  We tried a few other bars and then opted for a cab back to Jail as we’d heard there was a small local nearby for a nightcap.

I don’t know what I thought prison-wardens would do after a jail is closed, but it appears they turn to taxi-driving.  We enjoyed some great stories of our digs from when it was a working prison right from the horse’s mouth, he also kindly gave us some tips about places to visit in the South.

Incidentally, I’d read some complaints on Hostelworld about the Jailhouse being too far out of town, but our leisurely walk in and a paltry cab fare back made them seem pretty unfounded, probably written by Americans.

A quick nightcap and a chat with an odd old lady who’s father was apparently a wallaby sent us to bed.

Meeting Bazil

This, our penultimate day in Christchurch, was our last day in the Jailhouse.  As if the deal on the camper wasn’t good enough, Tanya had also blagged that ExploreMore, the rental operator, would foot the bill to get us into town.  Our home for the next month was waiting for us there.

We said our goodbyes and were shuttled into ExploreMore’s central city office.  A few questions and forms, a swipe of a card and a scribble on the dotted line and Bazil was ours for the month.  I will go into a lot more detail about driving in New Zealand in later posts but I wish I had a picture of my face when he asked if I knew how to fit snow chains.  Nothing prepares you for the moment when the penny drops, you will almost certainly be driving in thick fog, snow and ice… on mountains.

To get a feel for Bazil, we took a drive South, out and up.  And when I say up I mean up – winding precariously around the Port Hills road was a breathtaking induction to New Zealand motoring as we threaded our way uphill and down dale to the harbour town of Lyttleton, returning into Christchurch much later through the tunnel to the south east.  We wanted to use Saturday morning to visit the craft market at the Arts centre so opted to hitch up for the night at Stonehurst Accommodation on Gloucester St. right in Christchurch’s centre.

Realising we’d likely not have many more opportunities for a night on the town we set off into yet another Irish bar, Sullivan’s, although this time it wasn’t a xenophobic search for cider that drew us in.  Live music, provided initially by acoustic duo Sam and Eric, then later on the Black Velvet Band capped off a fantastic few days in the South Island’s capital, we sang, we danced, we met some great people there and shall remember it for a long time.  Sam and Eric’s cracking cover of A Boy Named Sue sticks in my mind, as does the fact that it wasn’t the last time we’d be seeing them on this trip…

Slightly heavy heads followed us down to the arts centre on Saturday morning.  There was surprisingly little of note there so after a steal of a breakfast on the strip ($5.50/£2.20 each!) we decided to hit the road and head for the first stop on our Southbound Lake Tekapo leg, Sumner Beach.