Day the earth moved (Christchurch, Feb 2011)

We were in Hokitika on the S Island’s rugged west coast and never felt a thing while Christchurch and surrounds were being rocked by a 6.3 earthquake in the early afternoon. I was finally easing into kick back mode on day three of a sight seeing tour with big sis and bro in law on their first visit to NZ. I’ve been here sixteen years so they weren’t exactly hot on my heels, but making up for lost years with tons of appreciation now they finally made it.

The previous day, it rained in true West coast style with due respect for an annual quota of 5mtrs. The terms ‘incessant’ and ‘inundation’ don’t even come close to a fair description. We thought of hightailing it over to the east coast in search of clement weather, but the sight of Franz Josef Glacier looming through early morning mist and the river in full flood throwing random ice sculptures onto stony banks was a rarer treat. No helicopter flights up to the snow or half day hikes up the glacier in such gloomy conditions, but a promise of other exhilarating experiences next time around

So we moved on up the west coast, and were busy inspecting a fabulous driftwood and beach debris sculpture exhibition on the beach when all hell broke loose in Christchurch around 1 o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon. Shops in Hokitika had to straighten their shelf displays and phone lines were buzzing immediately after the event. Early news was of something more serious than the lucky escape that began months of after shocks and uncertainty. The nerves of a city, already shot, got blown apart that Tuesday afternoon. At the time of posting, 113 are known to have died, and more than 200 are missing four days after the event. Aftershocks continue on a regular basis.

With heartfelt sympathy for those suffering in Christchurch, and friends and whanau in Scotland dealing with personal tragedy, we did what the war time mantra advised, kept calm and carried on, mindful of new beginnings.