Yesterday we felt an earthquake in Christchurch. It was an aftershock, actually, that measured about 3.2. The sofa I was sitting on simply rolled a bit underneath me, a gentle rocking motion much unlike the major quake they had here earlier in the year. As our 16-year-old hostess, Melanie, told about that early-morning quake, I couldn’t help but notice the glisten of a tear in her eye. It must have been quite a traumatic experience.
The city of Christchurch has been cleaned up fairly efficiently, but one can still see the aftermath of the tectonic movements: churches that have been enclosed in chain-link fencing with “Do Not Enter” signs, blocks where buildings have been razed, and the notable lack of chimneys everywhere.
We picked up our RV in Christchurch and headed out for Dunedin, a Scottish town along the southern end of the east coast. Yep, RV. It’s about the size of a mini-bus and sleeps four, though as with any RV, “sleeping” is only achieved after contorting oneself to make up the upper loft and then converting the dining space into a bed—all with two nine-year-olds who are eager to help. Then it’s a night of trying to get comfortable on a two-inch foam pad that rests on multiple wooden planks. But it’s an experience requested by Katy and Beth, so we’ll have two more nights in it before we return to Christchurch. The best thing about it is that we don’t have to keep repacking; though it’s a small space, so there is a fair amount of juggling involved.
We camped at Timaru, a town about 200 kilometers north of Dunedin. The big attraction there for the girls was the playground and the big jumping bubble—sort like a big rubber ball set into the ground. It was also a big deal to be able to settle into the RV and experiment with how everything works. Though it was too drizzly to do any trekking (hiking), it appears to be clearing this afternoon, so we hope to see some sites and/or trek along the way.
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