Leaving Wanaka was one of the longer drives of the trip, heading cross-island and over the mountains. We generally drove straight through, stopping for lunch in a pretty small town (for a lamb mince burger with mint, because what else down here?) and then treated to a beautiful view of Aoraki (Mt. Cook), the highest peak in the country. From the highway, the view looks down the length of a fairly sizable lake, a dramatic foreground for the snow-capped mountain. We were apparently lucky with our timing, as Aoraki is often shrouded in clouds and we counted our blessings and headed onward. Closer to the end of the drive, we took a brief diversion to the Chertsey Book Barn off the highway which is exactly as described. It was a nice stopover and offered me the chance to buff up my reading list with a Star Trek paperback.

Our destination, Akaroa, is a small town situated at the rim of a volcanic crater that is now filled with water, an inlet with a narrow mouth that leads out to sea, creating a very scenic natural harbour. The town is one of the earlier settlements, a site of conflicting claims between the French and the British (Spoiler: the British won) and is the hometown of one of Shackleton’s men from the Antarctic expeditions. It is a lovely albeit small place, known mostly for Hector’s dolphins, the world’s smallest, and the also petite little blue penguins.

We took one of the sailboating tours of the crater, motoring out to the harbour mouth and open water before turning back and tacking home under wind to the dock. It made for a nice day on the water, the dolphins popping up alongside the boat at intervals. The skipper offered turns at the wheel, which I took, and it was surprising how strong the feel of the wind is, how much the boat can shift in the water in response to it. I would learn upon arriving home that while I was steering a sailboat, Hannah was going to the gym to shower for a week due to a busted water heater in our building. I got the better end of that deal. And we have since moved apartments.

I also made a point to head into Christchurch, the largest city on the South Island, for a day. The half million or so residents of the city are in a seismic zone, one that was most famously active in 2011 when a large extent of the city centre was flattened. The scars were visible, with fenced off buildings, empty lots, and new construction filling the city core. It is an interesting exercise in rebuilding, one very much still in progress. I read a more critical book about the actions taking place, about the service of large capital and missing the opportunity to rethink how Christchurch works. I can’t say much about it…it isn’t my city and I didn’t have enough time to properly think through what could happen as the city rebuilds. It did make me think back to both my hometown and current home, sharing the same active tectonic area and long since overdue for the ominous ‘big one’. That’s a thought I try not to worry about too much from the 10th floor at home.

One of the more interesting sites in Christchurch is the transitional cathedral, more often known as the ‘cardboard’ cathedral owing to the creative use of said material by Japanese architect Shigeru Ban. The church has a distinctly modernist bent, with colourful glass panels. I spared a tour of the interior as it was a Sunday and I felt a bit uncomfortable intruding on the events of the faithful to satisfy my tourist interests.

Departing Akaroa, we were headed cross-island (again) to hit the west coast and Greymouth. Mom had been a bit under the weather, laying low some days in Akaroa fending off a cold. It had lingered and failed to improve, so our collective wisdom meant a visit to the clinic in Christchurch on the way out. Pneumonia, said the doctor there in short order. Obviously not ideal on holiday but they were able to prescribe some meds which provided some relief. It was another win for the state healthcare system in New Zealand, with little paid out of pocket for quality care.

One of the last stops before heading over Arthur’s Pass to the West Coast was a visit to the Tannery in Christchurch. It is a former industrial area (presumably used for tanning) that has since been converted into a unique and relatively compact shopping area, an interesting little diversion for me and one tolerated by the remainder of my travel companions. By the time we reached Greymouth, our next destination, the sun had set and we were all ready to get to bed.