Christchurch walkabout

Yesterday we went into central Christchurch to see for ourselves what we had seen many times via news footage and photos online. Now I am going to repeat some things that many other people have also said, because they are true. No amount of looking at pictures online can quite prepare you for the extent of the damage to the central city. Whole blocks have disappeared and without landmarks we sometimes found ourselves disoriented. I sought out familiar old haunts: workplaces, theatres, libraries, favourite shops, restaurants and bars. Except for a couple of places they were all broken and closed - many will never reopen. It was one of the saddest walks I have ever done.

Thank goodness we ended the day on a much brighter note; four families got together for a barbeque. Happy to report that, unlike the city they live in, these Christchurch friends were in fine form.

An even stranger day in paradise

As Tuesday dawned my biggest worries were how to get through yet another 35 degree day without ending up with a face like a wet cricket ball (my new look), how to deal with the Monstrous Mandurah Mosquitoey Massacre (you don't want to know, well unless you are thinking of moving here in which case you really do need to know) and what to cook for tea given that the temperature in our kitchen has barely dipped below 30 degrees in a month.  I had a big fat "To do" list in my paw and was about to head out the door when the phone rang.  It was my lovely neighbour (Tammy the dog's owner) offering condolences, a cup of tea and company should I need someone to watch the TV with.

That was the first I'd heard about what a truly hideous day Christchurch people were having.  All my plans for the day were blown away as yet again I sat glued to the computer and TV watching the dreadful story unfold.  It is enormously distressing to sit here and see the destruction but of course that in no way compares with the ghastly situation my dear friends and everyone else in Christchurch are living through. 

To those of you living in a devastated city I send my love and best wishes and I wait in hope to hear good news of you and your loved ones, though tragically not everyone is going to get the "We are all OK" news we long for. I feel so far away and useless.  I keep hearing perky "onwards and upwards" talk from politicians about doggedly rebuilding Christchurch: the old "Keep Calm And Carry On"  and "We will emerge stronger" sentiments.  I guess they have to say that but it makes me feel strangely uneasy. I know many of you and your children were already feeling emotionally battered and bruised after the months of relentless aftershocks so this must just be the absolute pits.

Yesterday we received this message from a friend in Christchurch which she described as a "cloudy, drizzly, collapsing city":
"It is distressing to see all the things in life that you work hard to achieve collapsing around you, but the best thing is knowing that the people who mean so much to you are there."  She asked "Maybe it's time to think about a new start in a new place – or is that cowardly?"  I for one would answer that no, it isn't the slightest bit cowardly.  It takes enormous courage to decide to leave a place you love and the people you love.

The pictures in this post are of Argentinean artist Tomas Saraceno’s floating sculpture Cloud City.  It was commissioned by The Perth Festival and was installed at a park in Perth on Saturday 19th Feb where it was supposed to stay tethered and floating until Sunday 27th Feb.  Sadly, less than 24 hours after it was installed, this gorgeous sculpture was battered and destroyed by strong winds, and parts of it set sail across the city and were later found 15 kms away in the sea.  I didn't get to see it; these photo of it in its full glory then post-destruction are by Fenella Kernebone from ABC Arts.  You can also see some very beautiful photos of this unexpectedly ephemeral work on Richard Eden's Flickr photostream here.

A very strange day in paradise

Today it was pretty tricky to enjoy the sunshine, warm temperatures, cruisy lifestyle and stunning views.  Instead I spent the day in my jimbojams, glued to the computer and indulging in what my partner dubbed "earthquake p**n" (rhymes with corn) and thinking about all our dear people in Christchurch and what a rubbish day you have had.

By 2pm I'd finally got my head around it and needed to clear my tiny brain.  I bossed my family into coming for a walk.  We popped into my favourite gourmet shop (and got myself invited to a party), then walked along a favourite path,

stopped for a drink at a new cafe and thought about how darned lucky we are. 

Best wishes dear Christchurch friends.  I hope you and your families are OK.