ChristChurch

And we're in New Zealand!
We landed in Christchurch last night at around 11, and it wasn't until today we actually got to see the effects of the earthquake. Portaloos squat stubbornly on the pavement outside every 3 or 4 houses, and to begin wth I assumed it was because of all the building going on. You see portaloos, you think builders (unless of course your at a music festival, in which case you think NO GO ZONE!) It just came on the news that the waterworks were so effected that for hundreds of people their bathrooms are still not suitable for use, and so if theyv'e got to go it's going to have to be outside, in the portaloo. And even more unfortunate than this is the fact that, as is usually the case with portaloos, they are disgusting. Piled up tissue and urine and...everything else. You don't have to have the best of imaginations to know what I'm talking about!  We can't drink out of the tap in our hostel, and we're some of the lucky ones who have any running water at all. Hundreds of people are homeless and have been made redundant, not to mention the hundreds that lost their friends, family and loved ones. It's not something you think about really effecting the western world. I personally didn't think much of the earthquake. It was so far away, and compared to some of the other natural disasters 100 lives isn't alot. But it's still 100 lives. 100 sisters or brothers, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, friends. So I'd like to ask everyone to send up a thought or a prayer or what ever you'd like to call it to those whose lives are currently in pieces. 

Because of this it's difficult to enjoy the city. The center's cut off with army men guarding its entrance and piles of rubble where peoples homes used to be, so instead of write about the city I'm going to write about something pretty trivial that happened whilst in the city. 

Me and Jake are crossing the road to catch a bus, or more accurately, Jake is crossing the road and I'm wondering aimlessly behind him until he starts pulling me along, in which case I just slow down even more because I'm like, Hey! We're on holiday! Why rush!? When something mahogony in colour, round and smooth winks out at me from under the grass. What is that? Could it be!?

It was a conker.

You may not see why this is a big deal. Why I suddenly got so excited. It was the fact that something so known and common to me growing up in Cornwall could possibly be there, just the same, on the other side of the world. I bend down to pick it up and realise there's more! Dozens of them littering the floor. I pick up one. Then another. Soon I'm scooping them into my handbag.

"Beth? What are you doing? Seriously!? We're going to miss our bus for some conkers?!"

He goes quiet for a second, and I see in my peripherals a white blonde circle bobbing around by the floor.

The conker fever is catching!

Me and Jake return to the hostel and tip our treasure onto our bed, to admire the sheer number of them! Theyr'e like an army of tubby, squat shiny brown people. 

It suddenly hits me that there's NO way they're going to let me take 50 conkers through customs..maybe if I declare it...

Are you bringing any food in your luggage? No

Are you bringing an amount of tax deducted items that come to over 1000 dollars? No

Do you have in your luggage any wooden items, or items that may be made partly of wood? I have a total of 153 conkers, but I promise the reasoning behind them being there is innocent and trivial, maybe even juvenile.

Do you have in your luggage any seeds? As I before mentioned, I have a total of 153 conkers. I plan to plant none of them. If this is going to be a problem I'm willing to leave 53 behind, but any less than that and I lose my title of conker centurian. This is a title I will not reliquish readily.

Sometimes I really struggle to explain why I do things. I just do!  When I was younger I used to have this weird "What if?!" Problem. It was very simple. I, for example, remember sitting in a car, on the motorway on the way to Bristol and my brain suddenly goes

"What would happen if I throw care to the wind and fling open the door?"

As soon as this thought gets into my head it sticks there and I find myself realy considering to do this ridiculous thing.

I remember walking up the stairs, with my favourite cup. It was Beauty and the Beast style, with two layers of plastic and between the two layers of plastic was liquid, bits of glitter and little plastic shapes that moved around. I'm pretty sure everyone in my generation had one of these cups. Well I get to the top of the stairs and think "What would happen if I dropped it over the edge?" 

After being in mental turmoil for a couple of minutes I reluctantly drop my beloved plastic, glittery Beauty and the Beast cup and watch it fall. 

It smashes into 100 pieces.

I start to cry.

It was pretty standard. Nothing interesting happened. It just fell and smashed. But I must have done something like that at least a dozen times before I got the hint. Gravity really is a stubborn bum!

We're headed off to Tekapo tomorrow, expect hundreds of photos of one great big beautiful lake!!

Love to all. 

Xxx