Day 33 Greta Valley to Christchurch 83km
We had started to hear accounts of the earthquake yesterday but it wasn't until we neared Christchurch that we started to see the full impact.
We set off in a fierce norwesterly which nearly blew us off the road twice. A lovely woman in a pickup stopped and gave us a ride 10km into Amberley.
Coffee and breakfast consumed, we set off again. The final stretch of SH1 is motorway, so bikes aren't allowed and I'm told the penalty is a $200 fine and possible arrest. Never mind the danger!
So we headed towards Kaiapoi. Badly affected by the quake, streets were closed and some buildings rubble. Luckily the bike shop was open, although the owner reckoned it would need to be demolished. The cracks were obvious, as was the wavy floor. We had decided our persistently sore butts were down to the saddles rather than our delicate flesh so we have invested in new ones. As I was paying he was telling me that the damage to buildings was worse the other side of the bridge. "that's a point" he said, "the bridge is closed. How are you going to get to Christchurch?". A phone call to the council didn't help, so we set off for the bridge, planning to sneak across. The security people had seen us coming, radioed for a ute, and the tandem was loaded on the back and we were driven round to the other side of the bridge via the motorway.
An uneventful cycle into Christchurch via the market garden road. People were picking and buying peas, potatoes and soft fruit ready for tomorrow. Not a brussel sprout in sight.
We settled into our hotel and had a wander round central Christchurch. It's a lovely city. Compact and pretty. The sun helps of course. Then Christmas Eve drinks with Kay and Jerry and their friends. Really welcoming and relaxed and friendly. Great evening.
Picture: Dead Dad. Ron Mueck. Christchurch Art Gallery.