7 days in Christchurch, New Zealand

I went to New Zealand on an enormous, lumbering, double-decker plane.

They say you shouldn’t drink too much on planes, but how else are you going to take the edge off the prospect of a 26-hour journey?

I grew up in Christchurch, but I haven’t lived there for 30 years and I’ve rarely been back. I’ve only visited once since the earthquakes of 2010 and 2011, in December 2012. Back then many of the damaged buildings had been cleared, a route into the Square had just been opened up and it seemed the city was doing pretty well, all things considered.

Four years later, the central city is a bizarre mix of brand new buildings, construction sites, broken buildings held up with steel frames and shipping containers, and temporary art works, gardens and car parks. It’s hard to describe how strange it is to be in a city where almost everything is shiny new, under construction, temporary or broken (although I expect it’s tediously familiar to people who live there).

Standing at the door of my hotel on Cashel Street. The building across the road is currently an empty basement.

I stayed in the city centre, which made it easy to walk around and see whether there was anything I recognised.

Scenes in the Square. I used to visit my mother’s office on the 9th floor of the BNZ building (left). Now it barely has four floors.

The cathedral is still standing (kinda) and providing shelter for the pigeons.

Like much of the central city, the new convention centre and new library are largely theoretical.

Containers still prop up the facades of some buildings to protect passersby.

West of the city centre, Christchurch Art Gallery, with its wavy glass front, was built long after I left town. It served as the Civil Defence headquarters after both earthquakes and then was closed for refurbishment and improvements, reopening in December 2015.

The art gallery survived the quake and served as the Civil Defence headquarters. Now it’s a gallery again, with artworks inside and out. Kay Rosen’s Here are the people and there is the steeple pokes at two sore spots: the emptiness of the central business district and the debate over the restoration of the cathedral.

Just down the road, the Arts Centre originally housed Girls’ High, Boys’ High and Canterbury College, which became the University of Canterbury. My father taught in the Department of Modern Languages until the university moved out to Ilam in 1978. The old buildings are being restored and the completed areas look better than they did 30 years ago.

Parts of the Arts Centre have been reopened, including the Great Hall and the Clock Tower.

My father’s former office (centre window) fared better than my mother’s, although now it’s a tourist attraction.

A pair of Gormley sculptures stand in the Arts Centre courtyard and in the Avon river nearby

The Botanic Gardens, across the road from the Arts Centre, are largely unchanged — apart from the giant Christmas decorations, which appeared during my stay.

Mallard ducks napping; paradise ducks getting comfy.

The Avon river wraps around the Botanic Gardens and then does a loop round the city centre, connecting several landmarks.

Just down the river from the gardens, the Antigua Boat Sheds look exactly as they did when I was a teenager.

Around the next bend, a memorial to the 185 victims of the 2011 earthquake is under construction.

Another bend takes you to the Bridge of Remembrance, repaired and strengthened after the quakes.

The Re:START mall opened in October 2011, aiming to bring life back into the centre with shops and cafes in converted shipping containers.

North of the Square, the Town Hall — built in 1972 — is undergoing a $127m restoration. It doesn’t look the same without the Ferrier Fountain.

To the east, the Transitional Cathedral was designed by Japanese architect Shigeru Ban and is made substantially from cardboard.

I found it heartbreaking to stand in a cardboard tent while the stone cathedral that symbolised the city is slumping against its steel supports a couple of blocks away. I understand the argument that the Anglican diocese should concern itself with people, not buildings, but the cathedral can’t remain as it is, trapped behind hoardings.

Near the Transitional Cathedral (left), 185 White Chairs is a temporary memorial to those who lost their lives, by artist Peter Majendie.

I also took a trip up the Port Hills on the Christchurch Gondala, which postdates my time in the city by a few years.

Looking down towards the city, with Pegasus Bay sweeping up to the Kaikouras.

The top station, with views down into Lyttelton and back towards the city.

Looking down to Lyttelton harbour.

Walking along the Summit Road.

Nearby at Sumner, the beach is unchanged but the cliffs look very different.

Cave Rock still stands, despite being largely hollow. At the other end of the beach, the earthquakes reduced Shag Rock (Rapanui) to a pile of boulders.

Work is underway to stabilise the cliffs.

What next?

Christchurch will never be the same again, but it won’t always be a building site. Even in the week I was there, the city was changing, with barriers coming down and buildings and walkways opening.

A decision about the cathedral is due soon. I’d like to see something new that references the old, rather than a painstaking restoration. After all, the old cathedral got its distinctive green copper cap after earthquakes damaged the stone spire in 1888 and 1901. If there’s to be a new spire, perhaps it should be topped with orange plastic, in memory of the years when there were more traffic cones than people in the city centre.

Roadworks and traffic cones are everywhere, despite the recent Lonely Cone Recall which rounded up 4,000 strays. The traffic sheep are bolted down.

Christchurch will rebuild. Some of the new buildings will succeed immediately; others will evolve as people move in and make themselves at home. It’s hard to imagine how it will look in 50 years, but it’ll be there.