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rumpelsnorcackReconnecting with my past
When I first started this series of posts the intention was to go out and find new things, take the city by the horns and really dig into the things I hadn't done before. I had barely started on that journey – had only got three weeks into my weekly explorations – when it all came to an abrupt halt. Back then, the desire was to appreciate everything the city had to offer that I had been missing out on because I'd thought I could do it 'one day' and had suddenly woken up to the knowledge that 'one day' would never come and I had to start living in the moment. Now that's changed, and with all the enforced newness of life here there's a real comfort in going back and finding familiar things back up and running. So before I go out and find new things again I'm taking the time to hunt out those little pieces of normality that are still there or are returning.
The first thing I did was head to the Boatshed Cafe. I haven't been there in years but it was one of the first places I connected with when I originally came to live in Christchurch – my husband got one of his first jobs there and we used to spend a lot of time in there, enjoying the atmosphere and watching the punters on the nearby river. We even hired one of the punts when we got married and I have a certain rose-tinted fondness for the whole area. After the quake this was the first business I heard had reopened anywhere near the central city so I knew I had to go along and support them, both for old time's sake and because it felt like a celebration that things were getting back underway.
It's not easy to get to at the moment. Like a lot of the city there is a rabbit warren of closed streets and bridges surrounding the area, but they have hung convenient signs around the nearby fences of the cordon and those surrounding the buildings nearby that aren't in the red zone but are obviously still off limits. Even the fences serve a positive purpose other than to keep unsuspecting passersby safe and it's not just the Boatsheds that are making use of them. In a brief walk I saw at least five other businesses livening up the dull grey fences with colourful advertisements that they were open. The knowledge that things are slowly but surely reawakening around the edges of the cordon makes me ridiculously happy.
Anyway, despite the difficulties in getting to the cafe, it's clearly doing a roaring trade. We were very lucky to get a table when we headed there and some people who knew better had thought to make reservations, which I'd recommend in future to avoid the slightly hunted feeling you get when you want to eat and there's nowhere obvious to sit. However, it was really nice to see it so busy – there were people to see and since we were sitting outside (something that will become less appealing as winter comes in, I guess) we could fully appreciate the river and the surrounding area. It was easy to forget for a few moments that mere metres away things are about as abnormal as they can get in a city. It's still really beautiful along the river and as more things open in the area (particularly the museum and the Art Gallery) it's a place I think I'll be drawn back to. There's a peace there that's easy to lose in the hustle and bustle of the rest of the city as it hauls itself back to its feet. It was nice to sit back and enjoy being away from everything in such a relaxed setting.
Then there are the places that I mourned when I heard they'd been demolished or were locked up in the red zone with no way of accessing their businesses. Each time one of them reopens, even though in most cases it's somewhere else, I feel a small part of me healing. My city, the one I've known and loved for years even before I moved here, is not defeated. I will miss so many of the buildings we've lost but, more than those buildings, it's the people and the businesses themselves that are important. So when I go into Scorpio Books in Riccarton or The Children's Bookshop on Blenheim Road it feels like home even though both shops are very different to what they were. And every day somewhere else either opens or announces it's going to – The Honeypot Cafe, The Fudge Cottage, The Bodhi Tree, The Drawing Room, Cross Bros butchery and so, so many others. All are places that mean something to the fabric of our city and all are returning – different, perhaps, but that's the story of the city.
We will never be the same, obviously; not the buildings, not the city, not even the people in a lot of ways. But, despite all that, what makes us who we really are is still there and I don't know about anyone else, but I find that really comforting. There will be differences, but the essence of the city remains. Whatever happens, however sad it is to watch things disappear, we still have the people and that is what truly makes a city great.
When I first started this series of posts the intention was to go out and find new things, take the city by the horns and really dig into the things I hadn't done before. I had barely started on that journey – had only got three weeks into my weekly explorations – when it all came to an abrupt halt. Back then, the desire was to appreciate everything the city had to offer that I had been missing out on because I'd thought I could do it 'one day' and had suddenly woken up to the knowledge that 'one day' would never come and I had to start living in the moment. Now that's changed, and with all the enforced newness of life here there's a real comfort in going back and finding familiar things back up and running. So before I go out and find new things again I'm taking the time to hunt out those little pieces of normality that are still there or are returning.
The first thing I did was head to the Boatshed Cafe. I haven't been there in years but it was one of the first places I connected with when I originally came to live in Christchurch – my husband got one of his first jobs there and we used to spend a lot of time in there, enjoying the atmosphere and watching the punters on the nearby river. We even hired one of the punts when we got married and I have a certain rose-tinted fondness for the whole area. After the quake this was the first business I heard had reopened anywhere near the central city so I knew I had to go along and support them, both for old time's sake and because it felt like a celebration that things were getting back underway.
It's not easy to get to at the moment. Like a lot of the city there is a rabbit warren of closed streets and bridges surrounding the area, but they have hung convenient signs around the nearby fences of the cordon and those surrounding the buildings nearby that aren't in the red zone but are obviously still off limits. Even the fences serve a positive purpose other than to keep unsuspecting passersby safe and it's not just the Boatsheds that are making use of them. In a brief walk I saw at least five other businesses livening up the dull grey fences with colourful advertisements that they were open. The knowledge that things are slowly but surely reawakening around the edges of the cordon makes me ridiculously happy.
Anyway, despite the difficulties in getting to the cafe, it's clearly doing a roaring trade. We were very lucky to get a table when we headed there and some people who knew better had thought to make reservations, which I'd recommend in future to avoid the slightly hunted feeling you get when you want to eat and there's nowhere obvious to sit. However, it was really nice to see it so busy – there were people to see and since we were sitting outside (something that will become less appealing as winter comes in, I guess) we could fully appreciate the river and the surrounding area. It was easy to forget for a few moments that mere metres away things are about as abnormal as they can get in a city. It's still really beautiful along the river and as more things open in the area (particularly the museum and the Art Gallery) it's a place I think I'll be drawn back to. There's a peace there that's easy to lose in the hustle and bustle of the rest of the city as it hauls itself back to its feet. It was nice to sit back and enjoy being away from everything in such a relaxed setting.
Then there are the places that I mourned when I heard they'd been demolished or were locked up in the red zone with no way of accessing their businesses. Each time one of them reopens, even though in most cases it's somewhere else, I feel a small part of me healing. My city, the one I've known and loved for years even before I moved here, is not defeated. I will miss so many of the buildings we've lost but, more than those buildings, it's the people and the businesses themselves that are important. So when I go into Scorpio Books in Riccarton or The Children's Bookshop on Blenheim Road it feels like home even though both shops are very different to what they were. And every day somewhere else either opens or announces it's going to – The Honeypot Cafe, The Fudge Cottage, The Bodhi Tree, The Drawing Room, Cross Bros butchery and so, so many others. All are places that mean something to the fabric of our city and all are returning – different, perhaps, but that's the story of the city.
We will never be the same, obviously; not the buildings, not the city, not even the people in a lot of ways. But, despite all that, what makes us who we really are is still there and I don't know about anyone else, but I find that really comforting. There will be differences, but the essence of the city remains. Whatever happens, however sad it is to watch things disappear, we still have the people and that is what truly makes a city great.
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Date: 2011-06-02 01:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-02 10:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-03 01:16 am (UTC)*hugs, hugs*
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Date: 2011-06-03 01:37 am (UTC)*hugs you back*