Waiting...and the uncertainty

It is so hard to explain the emotions we are running through, probably easier to document what we are and aren't doing.

The days immediately following the quake, it was chaos and dread. Was there another one coming? Who was dead? Who haven't we contacted? The phone calls and TXT kept coming in, and most we ignored, not because we didn't want to answer, more a case of we couldn't...I mean, what would we say? We kept repeating the same old story over and over again, deep down knowing how lucky we were, like many, but always in the back of our minds was that others weren't. And also knowing, almost expecting, that the next one, and there will be a next one, could be the end of us, or worse, one or two of us.
And taking that element of uncertainty away, what is in store for us? Katie has just started at a new job, and actually, if you excuse the pun, seems to be as safe as a bank, but for me? I have had no communication from my employers, be it Scoot, Digi, or VFNZ. We are completely in the dark as to their future plans - I mean, I am in acquisition...who the hell is going to do business in the immediate and mid-term future? For some I understand the need for a cash injection, a quick fix, to get the necessities, but we have been left relatively unscathed so long term security is more our concern.
Katie's work has been brilliant! From Aussie HO organising to get her home ASAP, to organising a hotel for meetings, updates, and even simple things like a shower and laundry...and on top, the following day money was put into her account for emergency use. She has had at least two phone calls a day from management, and today she goes back to work to a meeting from the "big boss" who will no doubt lend all the support required to the team down here. I have asked her to take the EAP on offer; now and again, and more frequently as time goes on, she just breaks down. It is not necessarily brought on by the news (although invariably is), but small things like dropping a cup, breaking a nail, or one of the kids being naughty. She is symptomatic of the stress and pressure we are feeling down here. I can only be so strong myself, trying to hold us together, but I am not an expert in this area. My usual response it to crack jokes, it's my self defence mechanism, but I just can't find anything funny to say (although some would say I was never that funny anyway!). So I just mull on best I can...beers, smokes, and coffee a big part of my routine...eating sometimes, and not wanting anything other times. Not good for the system but what else is there right now?
As I write this, I am trying to keep myself busy with ironing, laundry, and other chores otherwise the sitting around will get to me, and avoid the TV as much as I can - the ongoing coverage is repetitive, but you have to endure it to get more updates on deaths, names, and routines. But at 148, it is becoming fantastical. Just like the day it happened when it didn't really seem like it had (or could), the rising death toll became a morbid curiosity...but until it reached 100, it didn't seem to register. But 100, shit that suddenly makes it big, real, and ever more tragic. Sometimes hearing the stories makes me tear up, sometimes they harden my resolve, but either way, it makes me numb and indifferent...

A Meal Out...Pukeko Junction

As I have mentioned in my pages and previous posts, this place has been one of my (our) favourite places to eat lunch since being down here in Canterbury...mind you, we haven't been to a lot of places, but no real need when you find one that you can trust. I have been here many times before in previous years, mostly for breakky on the way in or our of Christchurch on work, bikes, or holidays, and inroduced Katie to it on the way to Cheviot one day. It is a first choice if we want to head out on a fine day.

Today was a stunning day in Christchurch yet the mood in our house was decidedly grey, and when Katie's parents offered to take the kids to a community picnic, Katie asked me what should we do now that we were shot of them for a few hours. Well you can imagine what I was thinking, however it seemed we were on different pages and she suggested we go to Pukeko Junction...high fives all round and off we went.

Pukeko Junction is situated on the SH1 about half an hour's drive north of Christchurch in Leithfield. It has always proved popular due to it being right on the roadside in the middle of nowhere in the same vein as Amercian truck stops you see in the movies. But I am guessing that most of its clients are in fact those who return from around the region, and locals as the food is always of a high standard.

Well, with a seemingly unbiased approach, I wanted to review it in my own way as I had done to others.

Me: Smoked Chicken with bacon, mushrooms and cheese on creamy fettucine. 2 x Bundy Ginger Beer, and a Rhubarb cake with toffee topping and cream
Katie; Pork Spare Ribs with sweet chilli sauce, a salad, 1 x Bundy, and a Lemon Yoghurt cake with cream - Katie actually wanted the pizza, however this was not available.

To a lot of people, waiting on a meal seems to be an annoying part to their experience and I have seen some patrons over the years be completely abusinve, mostly without justification. It just so happens that sometimes you have to wait for things and in the case of Pukeko Junction, waitingt is well worth it as it is obvious the staff take pride in what thye present to you, and good things take time.

I don't know how long we waited, it might have been 20 or 30mins, but it doesn't normally bother us, more so today as we needed the time to chill out, read a paper (although it just reminded us why we were getting out of Dodge) and we could hear some tales of woe and experience from other patrons who obviously were in the same situation as us...

You pretty much view everything on offer, except specials
and pasta/soup of the day...mmmmmm.

Our meals came to us and OMG! I have listed a previous pasta dish at Pukeko as one of my favourite ever, and while this one didn't come lcose to it, it was fanatstically tasty, creamy, and cheesy. Nice and hot, and a great mix of meats and pasta. Katie knew immediately she had chosen the wrong dish (despite ribs being an all-time fave) and I promised her I would eat half of mine and she could finish it off - if I got some of her ribs!
In changing over (which was bloody hard to do!) I started on the ribs. The best ribs I think I have ever had were in Lone Star Rotorua, which were bigger than Texas and doused in BBQ sauce. Now in seeing these were servied with sweet chilli didn't seem right, but hey, they know what they're doing as it was a great compliment, something I probably never would have conisdered. The ribs themselves were very good, not great, but worth the money. The odd one was quite dry, maybe overcooked, but all in all, if you are prepared to strip them to bare bone and have no qualms about sucking your own fingers in public, then they can't be all bad right?

We had decided we were going to have a dessert, something I don't often do (I am an ince-cream kind of guy after dinner sometimes, but that normally is about it) but I was intrigued by the rhubarb cake and Katie (who loves all things sweet) had her eyes on it too, but seeing as I was getting it she chose anohter to get two for one. As with lunch, we swapped midway. I have to say, I am not a big fan of sweets after meals, but of the two the rhubarb was moist but not particulalry strong tasting, or if it was, the toffee topping below it away. Very nice, but in smaller servings for me. The same with the lemon yoghurt cake - nice and moist, and I love the tanginess of the topping, but it becomes too much for me as a large slice. Nothing against the cakes, and I am certain most will love the generously large slices they will get.



For the benefit of overseas viewers - this is
a Pukeko - an annoying bird to farmers and cars



The total meal cost $63 dollars which I think is pretty smart for what we had - no serving left us feeling short-changed, none being more than $15. This can seem pricey for cafe style food (who in their right mind would pay $14 for a gourmet sausage rool? I have previously and glad I did - they are the size of a small ox, and damn near as tasty). The staff are nice and cheerful, and were appreciative of me bringing plates back in (they seemed real busy so I like to help out), and they are easy to talk to if you get a chance (as again, they are so busy). Teh place itself is nice and cosy, and on a warm day I highly recommend outside and is quite well sheltered from the nor'wester and colder easterlies). Inside is quite noisy, the proximity of the kitchen and serving staff, plus people chatting and making orders. They have a covered outer area which is very pleasant in sunshine, but can be cold on rainey days. The toilets are fascinating - I think they used to be your tradtional public toilets done up in a cosy feel with nice fittings, however it still feels and smells like a public unrinal...I have a distinct distaste for public toilets and avoid them where I can. Off the cafe is a shop selling local art and momentos - painting and photo canvases, iron works, wine, food and just about everything else - a stunning large photo of a naked woman in shadow was considered as a purchase, but a bit pricey.

Setting: 4 out of 5

Staff: 4 out of 5

Food: 5 out of 5

Value: 5 out of 5

Overall Score: 4.5 out of 5

Pukeko Junction
SH 1, Leithfield

Canterbury

+643 3148834

Book Review...Shark!

The actual title to this is Shark! Killer Tales From The Dangerous Depths - by Robert Reid



The title page offered
\much,  but the book
didn't really deliver


In a concerted effort to a) avoid watching the TV and listening to the radio and b) drink myself to death, I have forced myself to read to get my mind off recent events. This one looked like a good book to read, and a break from the more recent books about subs and so forth I have been reading about (although, my next book is another sub one!).

This book is based on sharks tales around Australia, although it does make mention to the US and Papua New Guinea on frequent occasions. It starts with interviews with those who are in the 'trade' - from the conservationists such as Rodney Fox, to the film makers such as Ron and Valerie Taylor, to those who hunt them like Vic Hislop. Some of these reads are OK, if a little disjointed, but does set you up for more in-depth looks later on.
It then has a section dedicated to killer sharks, especially the 'big three' which again seemed disjointed and movie scripted.


What??? Now they f--ken fly too!!!

The photo section was both small and very disappointing - most were of some of the people in the first section in their twilight years. Not one of shark attacks and buggar all on the sharks themselves which seemed odd considering they were the reasons for the book. The next section started to get better, it outlined some of the shark attacks around Australia, state by state (which didn't make sense, felt like it was a Tourist Guide, "come to Tassie, we have less shark attacks than anywhere!") but some gripping accounts on shark attacks, both fatal and those who survived. This lead into some of the bigger stories about the more amazing shark attack survivors such as Rodney Fox and Brian Rodger. But the last section to me was the most informative, and best told - bizarre tales about sharks and shark attacks including the famous "Arm in the Shark Murder Mystery", "The Shark Papers" and facts on lesser known sharks, such as the Cookie Cutter Shark.

Not a first pick as such, not sure what other books are out specific to attacks, but I will find one for comparison.

2.5 out of 5.

How People Mark Tragedy...

Following is a Facebook post from a dear friend of mine in Puhoi, north of Auckland, like me an ex-pat Aussie, and though we don't always show or say it, proud to be here in NZ. Through our communications since the quake, she has been at pains at what to do to help, or show her distress, and I think this is nice;

I made a new garden today & planted 76 canna's I had grown. Each canna represents an innocent life lost in ChCh, revised toll is at 98, I will plant until the toll is complete. I will watch these beautiful cream & pink canna's grow and think of them all and count my blessings. This nation I call home is hurting and the days ahead are going to get harder. Live today because tomorrow is just not promised ...

My only concern for Kath is that hour by hour, and day by day the number is growing, and I fear she may not have a plot big enough for the final number of flowers required. Shit, it might look like Flanders Fields by the end of it, and on that note, it brings me to another bug bear;

The ANZAC poppies.

Our very own poppy maker here in CHCH, Kilmarnock Enterprises who recently lost the rights to make them for next ANZAC Day now has nothing. A fine institution that makes wonderful wooden toys and home utensils from wood, they also give special needs people and war widows the chance to give back by producing over 1 million poppies each year for the last 30 years. Now is the time for us again to put pressure on the RSA, the keeper of the war ravaged and sacrifices and the memory of those who sacrificed the ultimate to give us the life we experience now, and provide the heart and soul of those Kiwis and Aussies standing side by side through shit and ruin to search for, recover, and save those who experience a peacetime version of what they faced. This city needs to rebuild, and while larger businesses and corporations will hopefully drive this, its the smaller enterprises such as Kilmarnock that must be allowed to rebuild themselves, all the while providing a sense of purpose for those who quite possibly have lost everything in recent days.

I hope this reference/comparison does not offend anyone, I feel that the two are very similar in destruction of the human psyche while creating special bonds and resilience.

SUPPORT RED & BLACK.

In Katie's Words...

I lay in bed this morning with something bothering me...and it hit me, I haven't expressed Katie's thoughts. When she finally got back home to us yesterday afternoon she had explained to me how she found out about it, how frustrated she was without news and contact, and the ability to get home, and I felt a chill down my spine...so, this blog is dedicated to those who were so close yet so far.

I arrived in Wellington for an induction course on Tuesday morning. I don't know why, but I had an uneasy feeling about being away from home this time. This is probably because it was the first time that I had been away from the family since September 4th. I was there for a two-day course right in town. We started the day as any would with introductions and silly 'getting to know each other' games.

By the time lunch time came around at 12.30, I was tired, having been up since 5am. I was hungry having not eaten, and I was looking forward to getting back to my hotel and chilling out with a wine and Coronation St.

I dropped my bag at the hotel then went in search for food. I found a cafe, ordered a stuffed potato and sat down. As the food came, I got a text from and old friend I hadn't heard from in years - 'r u ok?'. Strange I thought....then another, a voicemail from a friend in Auckland saying they had heard and were thinking and praying for us....alarm bells started ringing. I had had messages like this before....on September 4th....I grabbed the phone, hand shaking to call my husband. Straight to voicemail. Then I called my Dad. Same thing. I was looking around the cafe. Things were just the same; people chatting like nothing had happened. I left a tearful message on my husband's phone. A text message came through from Deanna's school to say that all of the children were quite shaken but ok, and to pick them up now. Oh God I thought. I called through to Mum and Dad at home again and got through. Mum had been on the road and hadn't even felt the quake. It was not until she got home to a pale Dad and Emma that she found out! She jumped straight back in the car to get Deanna. Renée, who is 22 months slept soundly through the whole ordeal bless her.
The kids were ok, I needed to find out about Keith. Finally after the longest time (that was actually about 10 minutes) he called. I cried. People were looking. He was ok, and that was about all I could fathom at that point. The lines went dead again.
At that point I decided to pull myself together and work on getting back to them.
I ate my lunch. I don't know what it is with me, but no matter what the situation, I can still always eat! I was thinking that I was going to have a long day and needed the energy.
I started to text friends on my way back to work while trying to get info about what was happening from friends in other places.
As soon as I got back to the building, Deanna called. She was really crying and was obviously distressed at the whole situation. Much more than the first quake. All the kids at school were crying. Poor thing.
We were led to a room and told to get on the pcs and phones and do whatever we wanted to get in contact with those we needed to.
they tried desperately to get us back to Christchurch. The airport was shut, so we just had to sit and wait. I went back to my hotel room and sat glued to the tv until 11. It was a hard night. By this time though most of my friends and family had been accounted for and I was very thankful. Mum had checked my house, which was fine along with our animals.
The next morning I was up at 5.30 to watch tv again. I arrived at the airport at 7.45. I wasn't scheduled to fly til 5pm. I stood in a line a mile long to see if I could get on any earlier. The airport was pretty chaotic. After an hour I was almost at the Air NZ service desk. A call from ANZ had come through telling me that they had pulled strings and I was on a flight at 10.30. I couldn't believe it.
I stayed in the queue just to make sure. No way was I going to the back of the queue! It was now longer than ever.
Sure enough I was checked in and just had to wait half and hour longer. Thank goodness!
There were a lot of media there waiting to for passengers to get off the first flight from chch. Yuck. It cemented once again the reason why I never stayed in media.

Finally I was on the plane. Air NZ staff were brilliant. They kept us informed the whole way and were really lovely. Everyone was talking about the quake, their families, their homes, and it was a very somber mood.
When I got off and got in to the airport I couldn't believe my eyes. There were people EVERYWHERE. People looking battered and tired. People desperate to get out.
I slinked my way to baggage without standing on people. I got in the car. Everything looked normal. There was a strange eeriness though like nothing was ok.
The first sign of trouble was the queue of traffic heading in the opposite direction. ie out of town.
The petrol station was swamped with cars.
There was silt all over the place.
I got to the lights and looked beside me. A Dad, Mum, kids, cat and clothes were piled in the car beside me. They were all crying.
I finally got home. My pups and little family were waiting for me. It was the best sight I had seen. Thank God we are all ok. We are healthy, happy, we have a home in tact and our friends are ok.

A Meal Out...The Nor'Wester Cafe

Yesterday we decided we just needed to get out of town for a bit more for the kids and the dogs who had been somewhat neglected over the last few days. We headed north of Christchurch to Amberley, where we intended to do some grocery shopping as well, and as we had heard rave reviews of The Nor'Wester, we decided to pop in for lunch.

 The place is a very nice setup, almost lost from the road as an eatery with a beautiful outdoor eating area and a nice comfortable rustic interior.The staff were very nice and helpful which is always appreciated when you have children and toddlers.

The menus are quite extensive, and the pricing indication, for so far out of town, hinted that the food was of quality. We had seen a couple of meals come out for other diners, and I had based my decision on seeing these;

For me - Beef Burger and fries, and a Monteiths Pilsner (x2) on tap

Katie - same as above with a Terrace Edge 09 Pinot Gris (the only wine available by the glass)

Deanna - Waffles and a pineapple juice

Renee - egg on toast with a sausage and a pineapple juice - note, we actually asked for cranberry juices, a fact the girl picked up and offered refund for

It was quite busy in the cafe but we didn't have to wait too long for the food, and I have to admit, at least three of the meals were impressive looking. Deanna's was the exception - the waffles were small, and the bacon, if you could call it that, was barely a mouthful for her, and cooked to a crisp. It actually looked like a dog treat!

Renee's egg was nice but as a meal for a toddler sitting in a high chair, the plate was too big to fit on the tray and was permanently askew through the meal.

Our burgers were impressive looking, a massive burger bun with a meat pattie the likes I have never seen since the days of Jimmy Rockets in Customs St, Auckland. The fires, served in a smallish bowl to the side of the plate were good sized steak fries, and after eating one, it set a high standard for the rest of the meal. The plate was a long oblong type, completely wrong for the meal, as you couldn't spin the plate to cut at angles, and your arm was forever dipping into your food.

I decided, as the burger looked up to it, to eat it the old fashioned way by hand, but unfortunately this is where the meal started it's slide. For some reason best known only to the cook, the plate had been coated in a mayo which was all over the bun base, so by hand was out of the question. Cutting with the butter knives we had, only made it worse. The burger was a disappointment - the pattie was devoid of taste, no hint of herbs, seasoning, or the sensation you get from a hint of fat in the meat. And if it did in fact have these tastes, it was completely overrun by the copious amounts of tomato relish that was plastered over the burger. Nice as it was, it should be a side show, not the main feature.

Despite all of this, we did eat all our meals, and paid the princely sum of $90ish for the privilege, making each meal about $25 each, too high in my mind for lunch and kids. I have no issue paying good money, but for good food and this didn't stack up in my mind.

We had turned down the chance to eat at one of our favourites, Pukeko Junction on the way for something different, and while the ambiance and place and staff were fantastic, it was very much a loss opportunity. However, in being fair, it is the only time I have been there and may have gotten a bad day (not that it should matter in this industry) and figuring the recent events. I would normally consider going to a place again based on it's recommendations, but I would be hard pressed to bearing in mind the number of other fine establishments in North Canterbury and CHCH.

Setting: 4 out of 5

Staff: 4 out of 5

Food: 2 out of 5

Value: 2 out of 5

Overall Score: 3 out of 5

Nor'Wester Cafe
95 Main North Road
Amberley +643 314 9411

In Memorium...Part I of many...

I am here with some close friends, keeping close as we do not want to be alone, and while we started out somewhat merry, a few drinks, feeding our kids, and lucky to be alive and well, at 6pm we sat, as one, yet completely alone again, listening to the roll call of the first announced deceased. With me were two mates, fellow hard rugby players, in complete silence, Jason wouldn't even look at the TV screen, none of us wanting to be the first to cry, but when two children, toddlers were named, younger than all of the kids here, was too much to bear.
Our kids are still playing, running around the house, playing with their dolls and colouring books...so I wish to have the same innocence of youth. They are in fact the lucky ones and I hope that the worst thing they have to deal with are the constant shakes we are still getting.
Our thoughts go out to the family and friends of those named thus far, and we would offer anything in the world for you to have them back.
Our kindy has rung us to be part of a large picnic tomorrow for a parent still listed as missing in PGG...personally, we think it is way to early, what are we meant to say to her when we meet her? This is so fucked...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...and it is only going to get worse.

RIP.

    “You can shed tears that they are gone,
or you can smile because they have lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that they'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all they left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see them,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember them only that they are gone,
or you can cherish their memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what they'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on."

Darker Times...

It is coming up 11:00, and I have just seen on the news that body bags are being readied at the CTV site, barely an hour barely an hour after news broke about a rescue op in Chancery Lane. It is without doubt that we will see more of the "highs and lows" seemingly cancelling each other out over the coming days and weeks.
And sometime today we are expecting to have the first list of released names of those who have been confirmed dead...this will be a distressing time to not just us down here, but those around the country and the world. I am dreading this list as it really puts a finality, a personality, a conclusion to what up till now has still seemed a bad dream, a bad dream that has shaken us to the core.
Me and Katie continue to rack our brains over who should we be contacting, to make sure they are OK, that family are OK, and yet we still know that a name, or more released will hit us like a sledgehammer blow. We are already aware of a father of a child who attends pre-school a with our daughter works in the PGG Building - we chatted with him and his wife at the Xmas Hangi in December. A friend of Deanna's, her mother's ex's mother is still in the CTV site. The term is 6 degrees of separation, down here, I am not kidding when I say as a community, it is considerably less than that.
I am not looking forward to my next post - either I will be mourning the loss of a friend, colleague, or customer, or I will be selfishly happy that I didn't know anyone on the list, but of course, someone will know someone on that list, and their grief cannot be measured.

All say, "How hard it is that we have to die" - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live. Mark Twain.

Have a Drink On Me...

Normally I reserve this for my blog Friday Drinks, but in light of the CHCH earthquake, I present some liquid refreshment for those here in Canterbury.

This is two-fold; people will gather, share stories and have a drink, and the two I present here are local beers, all the more poignant as it helps a local industry and provides an escape, a moment, and a time to reflect in the best way we know how.

Last week I critiqued Harrington's Rogue Hop, a beaut of a Pilsner I had recently has in their bar in Belfast. In popping into the bottle store next door, the Pils was $25/doz, and yet I saw the Heritage 'series' at less than $20/doz. I asked the guy what it was "really like", and he said it was a nice easy brew. So I bought it, and here are my thoughts...

There are generally two types of beer lover - those who love strong malty tastes, and those who don't. I fit more into the second group, and this lager is definitely one to fit my pallet. This is a silky smooth drop, similar to export Steinlagers, and some imported beers. If you like your Steinlagers and Heinekins, this might not be your cup of tea.


A lot of beer makers try to make themselves more sophisticated in copying wineries in advising the right drink for the right meal...I find it a load of bullocks personally; I love my food, especially strong, spicy and savoury types, and as most beers have a strong malty taste I don't drink while I eat as it tends to immediately overpower the food taste, this lager is ideal for me as it does not do this. this will not be relevant to a lot of you, but it is also an easy beer to have with a smoke. Some beers foul the taste of cigarettes, and some make the smell of smoke even stronger (Tui is a classic example for me with my Menthols). Not this beauty...



Disclaimer - this beer may not make
you a good singer...or fashion
designer



From Harringtons;

Heritage Lager 4% - Malt Lager

The Heritage Range is a series of beer brewed  traditionally, our in-house special, only available from our Christchurch bottle stores.

Heritage Lager is a smooth and clean drinking lager.

At $15.50 for a 12 pack (at time of print) this is a very good value for money beer, more so than our 'big boys' DB and Lion...and being a local brewery it is all the more important that we support Harringtons as they will have been affected by the quakes, and we must support them to continue to operate through these tough times. Where the hell are Speights? Tui? Lion and DB???? Not a skerrick out of them. Support Canterbury, buy local.

Words from North of The Bombays...

As I sat here wallowing in my grief, I received this message from a mate of mine (Mike Batten of cricket fame, bowler of the second best ball of the century) who is back in NZ for a wedding in Auckland, and it is not just addressed to me as a mate, but to all my friends and family, all my colleagues, to all those people I have met and dealt with, and those I haven't. While we down here in Canterbury have a love-hate relationship with our cousins in Jaffa-Land, it is my privilege to pass this message onto you...and it no doubt reflects the thoughts and feelings of all Kiwis...please excuse his grammar and context, he's not as well versed as us down here...

Dear Keith

Your words may accurately describe your emotions, visions and experiences of the events of the 22 February, but sitting at the other end of the country, in Auckland, we, who weren’t there still have only an ounce of idea of what you are going through. No matter how much news coverage, blogs or texts we receive or watch, we will will never know your suffering, whether emotional or physical. And because of this unknown, it is the reason we worry about you, your family, and other New Zealanders, who are affected so much.

So for this, we, thank you for your words.

Without in anyway diminishing anything that you are feeling, please know we are also suffering. Too many times have we heard of similar disasters in far flung countries; Haiti, Pakistan, Chile. But this is different, this is close to home, this is Christchurch! And we are suffering, because of our helplessness to help. We cannot do what you do – lend a hand in your broken city.

We are suffering because our friends, like you, are suffering. From when the news first broke it took over 5 hours before we made contact. Relief when we did was evident, but unfortunately, I am sure, for every story like ours, there are ones with opposite outcomes – parents, sons and daughters, relatives friends and acquaintances who will be never heard of again. For these fellow New Zealanders we send out our deepest sympathies.

We are suffering because we see symbols of Christchurch will never be the same. Although we have never lived there, the Cathedral has feel of friendly familiarity. It’s destruction is equivalent to Sydney’s Opera House, London’s Big Ben, New York’s Statue of Liberty, or Paris’ Eiffel Tower being destroyed; icons of these cities – which is exactly what the Cathedral is. Even as an Aucklander this saddens me immensely.

Unfortunately the journey on the destroyed roads you and the people of Christchurch are about to embark on is a long and hard one. Houses will be rebuilt, but it will take time, businesses will reopen, but it will take time, communities, services, parks, halls and landmarks will be rebuilt, but it will take time. Christchurch is far too important to New Zealand culturally, historically and economically to be allowed to languish. Be assured we in the rest of New Zealand will stand with you and assist you in any way we can.

Me and Mike in happier times - Melbourne 1996
for the Ashes

Mike

The Darkest Side of Disasters...

Do you feel lucky, punk?

As I watch the news and Facebook, Twitter, and reports from all medium, I am disgusted by those who see an opportunity in another's trauma..I received a tweet about a scam for donations to the Earthquake relief, and at the point of writing this, 6 people have been arrested (how many have been missed?) for looting and theft. As I made my way into the CBD, I have to admit there were plenty of places I could have gone into, cars broken into, people taken advantage of...being an ex-Naval Officer, used car salesman, and sales rep, I can wax lyrical with the best of them. But at no time would I take advantage of another person's misfortune, steal from a fellow man, and certainly not scam in the middle of a scenario that requires, in fact demands, people to band together. To those who have, and those who are thinking of it, I say this to you; I hope you are strung up by the most painful part of your anatomy in full view of the people of Christchurch, and be deemed to take whatever comes your way. In light of this, the last quake and even the tragedy on the West Coast, the Government needs to take a stand on opportunists such as these and deal with them by public vote.
Vigilante justice, such as portrayed in Dirty Harry will be a real possibility...you deserve what you get and so much more.

Shake, Rattle And Roll...Pt III

Upper Manchester St; liquification wasn't this
prevalent in Sept '10

So there I was, dumping the car in Sailsbury St, and met a man running towards the scene. He had driven in from Ohoka as his daughter was in the Pyne Gould Building, over the back from my own building. She was due to be married on Friday and he hadn't heard from her. We convinced a cop at a cordon to let us through, although we had to detour away from Colombo St to Manchester due to a gas leak in the area - just as I was pulling out my smokes to light up for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

As we hit Manchester St, the 'pin up' of September 4, the scene was like nothing I have seen. We walked ankle deep through liquefaction (funny, no one knew the word before late last year, yet it is now a keyword on every one's lips even if they couldn't pronounce it!) and the devastation was complete. Where once was road and pavements, was now brick and mortar, water and mud, dust and smoke, and scattered around people in a daze. We walked into Cambridge Terrace, right on the Avon where the PGG Building was ('was' being the operative word) and the shock hit me. A building I had viewed from my building, barely 50m away, was a mountain of rubble, barely recognisable. There were rescue workers crawling over it like a swarm of ants and survivors sitting on the roadside, dirty, bandaged and bleeding. Some wept, some stood and stared at nothing in particular. I myself just stood, unable to take my eyes off the scene, unable to comprehend what I was in fact looking at. Sometime in the next couple of minutes, I had finished a smoke, don't even remember lighting it, and then started to look for things to do. With some young guys I assumed were backpackers we moved some fences onto the grass as a makeshift trauma space, or morgue I even supposed.



Above left; the scene that greeted me as I walked into Cambridge Terrace

Above right; from directly in front of the PGG Building, the concrete cutters and sledges were in full swing

I spoke to a woman holding a St Johns pack, one of those ones you buy for your home or car - she felt she had to bring something, however insignificant it may seem. We chatted about other areas, what we knew. I mentioned the Copthorne, just around the corner, CTV which was on fire (I hadn't known at this point it had collapsed), the Farmers Carpark, and rumours of the Cathedral, but everyone there didn't believe a word of that, surely not the Cathedral!

I started to notice more around me, helicopters buzzed around us; TV crews in some came right down and got some verbal abuse from survivors and rescuers; another was doing a round trip of about 2km with a monsoon bucket filling up from the Avon and dumping it on CTV which we couldn't see bar the black smoke cloud billowing upwards; another chopper was near the Forsythe Barr Building where we had heard the lifts and stairwells were inaccessible, and people waited on balconies awaiting rescue.
Within an hour, more appliances and personnel had turned up, it was obvious that PGG was one of the priority sites for rescue. there was talk of about 200 inside when the quake hit, my guesstimation was barely half of that were being treated on the grass, so that left a lot to be found.


The Avon River, yet another Christchurch icon, was in flood, like nothing I have seen before. It was brown, and foreboding, hardly the place to take a romantic punt.

I got to talking to some other people around me; a couple of American tourists taking pictures who had walked up from Latimer Square; two homeless guys who seemed bemused by the spectacle; a Customs Officer and an Army guy holding cordon - the universal feeling was, was, shit, I cannot express it into words.
Word started to spread that the services were looking to evacuate everyone from the area - I had noted at this point that the concrete cutters and sledgehammers on the rubble had stopped, no one had noticed it. And the rescuers seemed to be leaning into holes, obviously coming across someone or something ready to come out, and as we were cleared further from the makeshift erection I helped build earlier, my only thought was they did not want anyone to see the bodies.


From left hand side of scene - Opposition Leader
Phil Goff on the phone. He just didn't seem right
being there, it felt like a PR exercise to me. At this
point, the cutter and hammers were silent, the crane
ready to lift a rescue basket to a point just behind
the trees, left



Some of the survivors talked of getting out now, most wanted to wait as they still had friends and colleagues up there, but the Police were now making their presence felt, this was not a place nor time for emotion, it was work. One girl, who had been relatively quiet the whole time I was there, suddenly broke down. She screamed and cried that she had no family here in CHCH, but her cat was alone at home and she must get back to it. But her car was in the no-go-zone and she abused those who told her not to fetch it. I think her name was Lydia. Lydia, I hope your cat is fine. It was at this I suddenly snapped out of my fog. I had to get home, while I knew my family were safe, I had to see them, see our house, see and be with my animals.

I walked, not with purpose, back to my car. People were walking in no particular direction, it was quiet, so quiet. One lady sat in a bus shelter with her son and dog, another elderly lady was cradling her cat. Some people had suitcases and blankets and backpacks - where they were going, I have no idea, it seemed there was no where to go for a lot of them.
In my car I drove north up Manchester, into Bealey and then onto Cranford. From this point on, I barely saw a car. The streets were deadly quiet, I felt like I was in that movie Quiet Earth with Bruno Lawerence; why was I the only survivor? Why was I OK? Where was everyone. The streets were pock-marked with holes, subsidence, cracks, and in places a torrent of liquefaction. Dust was swirled up by what cars were driving.
Heading north through Redwood I saw my first 'life', the Mobil station had a queue a mile long wanting fuel, and I quickly made a decision, I needed some supplies. But what? The continued drive solved it for me - supermarkets were closed, other fuel stations, but right on the outskirts of Belfast, The Peg, a pub was open. I pulled in, bought a case of Speights and a packet of smokes, and headed home.
the motorway was like driving on waves - not as obviously damaged as the previous quake, it was nonetheless affected, and speeds up to 100kmh made the car jump about, so I slowed it right down...what was my hurry?

Fuck, no other word for it...

I called into my neighbours first, Pete and Sue. I had been told our power was out, and seeing their TV through the window assumed they had their generator on. They invited me in for a beer, said they had been checking on the dogs, but I just wanted to see my girls and then back to my animals. The power was back on, so I was relieved that the fish at least would be OK if they hadn't been tipped out.
At the in-laws, I hugged my girls, made plans they would both stay there that night and I would go home. While having a beer, I first saw the Cathedral. My first tear..I couldn't believe it, and still refuse to believe it. It just doesn't seem right, criminal. The symbol of Christchurch, of it's people, of the country almost, lay in ruins. 100-odd years it withstood anything thrown at it, seen people through World Wars, through the depression, through disasters worse than this, and always giving hope, inspiration, and guidance. And now it may end up being the face of this whole damned mess...RIP Christchurch.

I went home, drained, but pumped. I fed the animals, walked the house, cleaned up the mess. We were fine, we were lucky. And as soon as you think that, you feel guilt, shame, depressed. Two friends came by to check up on me, we had a few beers and watched the same scenes over and over, waiting for something new, another survivor, or death, it didn't matter, we needed to know either way. When they left, I drank some more, conscious of the fact that it is easy to see how people fall into alcoholism, well not me. I went to bed and slept...through a dozen shakes until the 4+ at 6am which got me up. TV on, a coffee, a few TXT to friends and family. My blog, feeding my pets, it seemed all so automated. I was working on habit, still bothered by the fact that there were things to do for others. Finally Katie advised she was booked on a flight, we organised for friends to come and stay and get out of the city...and this is where you find me now, waiting on my love with my kids here watching the idiot box, the fie lit (it's not that cold, but there is a sense of comfort in a fire place). I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday, coffee getting me by. We wait, and wait...

So now we look to the future, to rebuild. Last year seems so long ago, we coped and we won. Can we do it again? Damned fucken right we can!

Shake, Rattle And Roll...Pt II

If September 4 2010 was a shock to the system and wake up call to an unsuspecting and complacent nation, February 22 2011, at 12:51pm was a reminder that no matter what you plan for, what you expect, nature can make you feel helpless, small, and suddenly very mortal.

For those who know me, I am a relatively staunch person and it takes a lot to faze me, but the events of yesterday put me right on my arse, humbled me, and despite being of no religious belief, am thankful to God, Buddha, Hendrix or whoever is 'up there', that my family are OK, my friends are OK, and that there was not a level of death and destruction that could easily be considered in the larger picture.

We will hear stories of heroism, despair, death and hope over the coming weeks and months, and while mine has no real place amongst those who have lost so much, here is my story, my account, and my thoughts...



Church on Bealey Ave;
 survivor first time round, not so lucky this time.



The morning was drab, and I was preparing Deanna for the fact that she wouldn't likely be going on her school trip to Spencer Park in town (what a moment of reflection!!!), and after dropping her and Renee to their grandparents I moseyed into town, listening to Blues. It was to be a biggish day, a visit to the VFNZ Switch (ironically it was discussed backup for disasters), then me and Glen, the boss, off to Dunsandel to sign up a customer. After this was done, a moment I can only consider serendipitous occurred. I asked Glen if he minded if we detoured out to Leeston to see another potential customer before heading back to work at PWC, 13th Floor. This done, adding about an hour, we cruised back to town in my Commodore. Just out of Lincoln I felt the back end of the car 'kick out' and just put it down to wet road and a slick patch. However, the other side of Lincoln, the car did it again, however almost got sideways on the narrow road. Glen asked what the fuck I was doing and as I pulled over I explained that I must have a debeading tyre or something. We got out, looked around the car, found nothing, and started on our way. My phone beeped with a TXT from my builder mate, Jed, "How big was that one?". I couldn't understand what he meant, figured he was showing off that he was fishing again, and then Glen's phone rang. His wife was in hysterics, their house was trashed, CHCH had just been hit by another quake. he promised he would be there soon, but as we hit Hornby, it became clear that this would not be the case. For close to an hour we crawled through CHCH's outer suburban streets, listening to Talkback (I despise talkback radio, but it was the only transmitting station we could find) and the news and calls coming in painted a dire picture. Me and Glen tried in vain to contact people but the service was out. It would flicker now and again, just enough to receive TXT about missed calls and from concerned friends and family. I got hold of Katie who only flew out to Wellington that morning and she was worried. Where was I? Where were the kids, where were our friends? Our colleagues were based on the 13th Floor of PWC, and some of those aftershocks have made that swing more than a middle aged orgy, and we couldn't raise any of them, and concerned mounted as reports of collapsed buildings were on the radio. Close to Ilam, Glen jumped out and footed it home...I wondered if he would be OK if another struck as we had been feeling them in the car all the way into town. I made the call not to head home, the gridlock was so bad, people trying desperately to get anywhere but here, kids and parents running on the streets, cars bumper to bumper. I finally got through to Katie again, and to her father and advised I would head into town, I felt I had to do something, help in anyway. My gut was sick to the core, the helplessness and desperation of it all was unfathomable...my family were OK (although I hadn't heard from my younger brother and his wife at this point so was continually trying them.

Getting closer to Papanui Rd, the streets still looked normal, like nothing had happened. It was only the mud covered cars and stressed people that gave any indication of something. But once I turned south onto Papanui Rd in Merivale, shit, how do you explain it.


One of the many houses damaged;
Bealey Ave



The only people I think that could appreciate the scenes would be those who have seen something so bad, it seems almost Hollywood - The Trade Centre 9/11, Haiti, LA, Indonesia and so on. People covered in blood and dust walked right up the middle of the road, they didn't want to be near buildings in case they came down on them. Buildings that had come through unscathed late last year were destroyed or looked like they had been ransacked. At Bealey, the Carlton, just hanging on from September 4, was fucked. As were the numerous churches awaiting repairs under heritage trust or otherwise.

As I crawled along Bealey, barely 2kms from I wanted to go, people on cars either side of me chatted to me, we exchanged our stories, explained where we were headed now. Katie called again and as we chatted, a big aftershock hit. The Commodore, lowered, jumped about like one of those LA Gangsta's cars on springs, the massive oaks swayed side to side, and the Red Bus beside me, full of school kids was a din of screaming.

But still the enormity of it hadn't sunk in...we had had this before, got through it, how much worse could it be?

Shake, Rattle And Roll...Pt I

A familiar site and sight in Canterbury...the historic Hororata Homestead

At the time I couldn't have told you what time it was, how big it was, and I even thought it went only half as long as it did, but I remember September 4th as if it were yesterday.

In my semi/sub-consciousness I remember thinking "For fuck's sake Jim why the hell are you starting up your truck now?!" As the haze of sleep rose, the noise became louder, and the shaking of the bed suggested his truck was right outside my window. I rolled onto my back, eyes and ears fully aware for a couple of seconds, and summed up the situation. "Right!" was all I said as I leapt up out of bed.



Manchester St, the symbol of the of September 4 2010



Kaiapoi walkbridge



In Katie's words; "When the bed started shaking I was still asleep and thought it was Keith was shaking me. When I opened my eyes and saw his bare bum running out the bedroom door I knew then what was going on!". I yelled back behind to Katie to grab the baby and that I was headed to Deanna's room. I flicked the hall light on and just like in the movies, the lights struggled to life, flickered, and then slowly dimmed. I swear that generator sound they use as score could also be heard as the lights did this. Standing in Deanna's doorway in the dark, I called out to Deanna and Cohen. Cohen is her 4 year old cousin, spending his first ever sleepover away from (an overprotective) mum. Dee was soon by my side, blubbering, but not yet crying, she knew all too well what was happening, we had only discussed it a couple of weeks before what we would do in emergencies. There was no response from Cohen and I continued to yell to him and rummage in the bed we set up. He simply wasn't there - it transpired that during the night he had crawled out of his bed and into Dee's. Typical! With both kids in the doorway, and Katie and Renee (who had in fact only awoken when Katie snatched her from the cot) I was suddenly aware that we weren't the only ones to look out for. We have pets, and they are part of the family and the noise from the garage where the cats slept was incredible so sprinting by I opened the door to let them run in as I continued to the living area where a couple of my fish tanks were. The floor was soaked, I fumbled in the dark to determine if it was a split seal or cracked glass, and in the dark could make out that water was sloshing out over the top of the 450l tank, but it appeared to be OK. It was about this time that the shaking stopped and it suddenly was eerily quiet, apart from Dee's sobbing up the hallway. They all joined me in the living area and Katie and I went in search for light. The torch on the fridge didn't work and I cursed not replacing the batteries I took out to put in one of Dee's toys last week! Candles were located, and we put them in every room, as candle light can be the complete opposite of providing romantic light in this situation.



The force summed up in this photo near Darfield



Railway tracks near Kaiapoi



As we sat at the table together, we chatted, and explained to the kids what had happened, and everything seemed OK. Renee was in now not going back to sleep so I stayed up with her (after I finally put clothes on!) making coffee on the gas hob, and Katie took the other two to our bed as Dee was clearly not happy with the situation.

As the sun rose, we pretty much just went into routine...breakky, coffee and Milo, having a chat about the night before and the day to come - I wanted to get my lawns done, Katie was going to do some housework and laundry. That's when the scope of the shake came through, and it came from the other side of the world. Facebook and TXT messages came from the UK, Morocco and the States asking if we were fine...we were bemused that it would be news so far away, so we opened the laptops and the photos on new sites started to show what in fact we had lived through. Suddenly as our friends and family closer to home awoke, our hones went nuts and people started quoting news articles to us as we had no media other than the laptop.

The day was stunning, but weirdly cold. My tropical tanks (temperature was dropping) were my only concern as the house (apart from a few small things) was firmly intact. That afternoon I did as I said I would, mow my lawns with coffee and smoke in hand, iPod blasting metal and 80s music. Missed the 5+ aftershock completely.

Heritage buildings thankfully getting
attention

As time went on, days rolled on, it was clear we had had a major disaster, our beloved Christchurch was in chaos, infrastructure was on edge, people concerned. But through it all, there was a collective sigh of relief that there was not a single fatality, a miracle no doubt. And the talk amongst us, the neighbours, the community, and the city was that Christchurch would come out OK, we are a tough and resilient collective, and it wouldn't be long before we would and could get back to normality.

Our symbol of hope - the iconic Cathedral
stood stoically after it all

Aftershocks kept coming, some made you stop and think about your next move, but soon they just became a part of routine, a lot not even being noticed, or commented no more than a fleeting remark. Months on, they kept coming, and we were distracted by events on the West Coast and the country went into mourning.

Me and Katie were married in December as planned, Christmas Day was spent with friends and family, and even the jolts of Boxing Day and following did not really dent the Canterbury psyche...our attentions were turned across the Tasman were some of my family who had only been here days before were being crushed by floods and later a hurricane.
Life carried on, a sense of normality was definitely back, the city functioned as it did prior, and apart from the demolition being carried out and the doom-sayers warning of coming Armageddon, it seemed we would all be OK...


How quickly nature can bite you on the arse...

Earthquake, 22.02.11

Fuck...what else is there to say? Unless you have been in one you can never appreciate what such a natural disaster can do to you, affect you, affect others. Whether it plays on your psyche is to down to the individual, but I can tell you, when you are in a position of helplessness, unable to see loved ones and family, help people crushed in buildings, hearing reports from people who are far removed, you will never understand it.
When I get the chance, I will post some photos I took of my beloved city, tell my stories, but they will just seem like fiction to most of you; but mark my words, I am a tough minded person and today (as opposed to September 4 '10 which seems a walk in the park) hit me, and hit me hard.
Thankfully my CHCH family are all OK, my wife safe (albeit freaking) in Wellington, my kids safe at Nana's. All my animals are safe at home, been fed and seem content. But as I watch footage of the beautiful city I grew up with, seeing the iconic Cathedral destroyed, suddenly my tough exterior seems shaken, cracked, and ready to fall apart like so much here. But we are tough, resilient, and we will get through it. Kia Kaha, Be Strong.

Axemen...Ritchie Blackmore

Anyone who has read this blog, or at least knows me, is well aware of my love for the guitar. And in this feature I will point out some of those I consider to be the best there is, those who influenced me in playing and what I listen to, and those I always turn up on the stereo to make my hair stand on end.

It will cover a wide time span, from the early blues and jazz days, through the birth of rock n roll, pop, rock, metal, and classical.

Now there is no better debate than who is the best guitarist...well, being one to always add fuel to the fire, here is my number 1 to start it off, Ritchie Blackmore who was classically taught, and then played in bands such as The Outlaws and Screaming Lord Sutch before joining Roundabout in 1968. This band of course, became Deep Purple. From here on in, I won't rank my guitarists, but they are those who I follow, respect and idolise.

Deep Purple went through many personnel changes, but for the first four 'make ups' Ritchie was there as the driving force on music and direction before he left in 75 (replaced by Tommy Bolin) to form Rainbow. This band lasted (with many more personnel changes) through to 84, about which time Deep Purple MkII reformed, and Rainbow again in 94. In 1997 Rainbow became Blackmore's Nights which made a definitive turn towards a Renaissance type of rock, undertones that can be heard in the DP years, and more noticeably in Rainbow.

To me, Blackmore is the quintessential guitarist - talented and driven, with an ego and attitude, and his own man (see the interview about DP playing The California Jam where he refused to go on stage until the sun went down). I have included a couple of clips here, one from Rainbow (this is my favourite live performance Difficult To Cure, note Roger Glover playing bass) and a compilation from Deep Purple (covering MkII and III). I have avoided inserting the obligatory Smoke On The Water, because we all should know how great that is and it isn't the only song that sums the man up...just like Stairway To Heaven is not the only song Led Zep ever did!

Enjoy!

Geek Zone - Coverage Solution

This applies only to New Zealand.

For as long as I have worked for Vodafone NZ, which is coming up seven years, I have never had coverage, or decent coverage to be able t complete a call. This has been more noticeable of late as both me and my wife have iPhones (me 4, her 3GS) which has particularly poor RF performance. This is not a slight on VFNZ, but the fact that where I have chosen to live.

My hero

This has now been sorted with Vodafone's new market offering, the Sure Signal. I received mine last Friday, along with a new Complete Router, and within a few hours had full coverage throughout my house, albeit only 2G, but that is better than a kick in the teeth as I barely receive 3G where I live anyway.

There are some conditions to this however - you are required to have a 3G handset and VFNZ DSL (with at least 1Mbps download).

There are two versions of the Sure Signal - the model I have (RRP$349.00) has a radius of about 20m, and can handle four users. There is an Enterprise model (RRP$as well which extends the coverage to 40m and can handle up to eight users.