Room 24 resembled the ravaged and torn carcass of a small town after the passing of a hurricane once the girls left town, having packed their hikers bags, picked up their stray used teabags from the floor and swept away the pile of dirty socks from each corner of the room.Even our nasally challenged friend from Virginia, whom we named Jim (he looked like a Jim) and snored like an impatient rhinoceros, departed, leaving only Anthony and myself in the polished vastness of a strangely barren landscape. The cyclone had slipped away and all we could do was mourn the lack of character of our now immaculate home.
We've spent most days in a Groundhog Day state of phase, only without the rich life lessons and multiple suicide attempts that Phil Connors endured in Punxsutawney. To save some money we've been frequenting the Christchurch Library to utilise it's generous free Internet access. However, there are some shady characters lurking under the brightly lit roof of rotting encyclopedias, namely a scabrous faced man who sports a half bandanna / half cap as well as a luminous construction workers' vest who spends his time on the free computers shifting through a website of various scantily clad young Filipino ladies. He is a bad man. I am tempted to notify Manny Pacquiao now that he has a political uppercut within the Nacionalista Party to sort this abomination of a human
out.
After the sordid trip to the library, the Japanese Bakery on Gloucester Street calls, where the potato croquette and soy sauce bun is inhaled within minutes.
out.
After the sordid trip to the library, the Japanese Bakery on Gloucester Street calls, where the potato croquette and soy sauce bun is inhaled within minutes.
Generally the TV room and lounge in The Coachman is a safe haven to rest the legs after another dreaded sunny day. However, we paid the price for letting some preening busker take the controls and in the evening we were treated to a viewing of Melrose Place followed by the asinine dirge of a film, Win A Date With Ted Hamilton. This was a touch too much for us to bear, so we sauntered down the street with some regret to Iconic, a preposterous bar offering $3 drinks and the light entertainment of tattoo camouflaged thick necked inbreds conversing with one another.
On a warm Friday night, a few of us from The Coachman visited the AMI Stadium, just outside the CBD, to spectate on the final Super 14's game of the season featuring the most successful team in Super League Rugby history; the Christchurch Crusaders who took on the Canberra Brumbies. Not after we witnessed the bizarre pre-match entertainment from the Crusaders' horsemen - a medieval routine involving eight horses and riders dressed as knights from the local Polo Club who circled the stadium, swords raised high in order to joust the crowd into a fervor.
Not real Knights
We weren't expecting a dense blanket of fog to descend eerily past the floodlights at half time, but we just about managed to see Dan Carter squander a couple of early, fairly straight forward penalty kicks and the colossal Richie McCaw bite into several tackles as the Crusaders cruised to a comfortable 40-22 victory.
The weekend arrived along with a familiar figure in that of my good friend from back home, Tobias, who had recently emigrated to Sydney. Having settled so quickly in his newly adopted city with a magnificent job manipulating an abacus in a local bank as well as a fond reunion in the arms of his native capture, he threw caution to the wind and arranged a short break in Christchurch for a catch up.
Wragg: Surprise visit
I could not think of a more pleasant way to spend a dry autumnal day than a soothing punt down the River Avon. We reluctantly embarked on the rickety wooden boat and were welcomed by our fellow passengers, a quiet couple from South Korea and the hollow figure of an English girl, with indifference. However, their serene journey down the mouth of the stream may have been ruined somewhat by our 'hilarious' observations and outbreaks of laughter as we swayed past carefree golden eyed ducks and lugubrious willow trees.
Giving Pinsent and Redgrave a run for their money
In order to conjure our lost traces of machismo after the quaint boat trip, we bought a treat at the popular-with-new mothers - Cupcake Boutique, before taking a leisurely stroll beneath the procession of English oak trees hidden within the Botanic Gardens. After a day of being somewhat too civilized and cultured, we were in desperate need of the remedy of a strong ale and a kick of a flat football in the dorm room before venturing out to the busy Poplar Street, to celebrate the day and sit by a chained up moped in the Vespa Bar before a few shots of cool, imported Russian vodka at Izba. The night wouldn't be complete without a quick jive on the notorious technicolour dance floor of Boogie Nights, before Tobias demonstrated his unfathomable appetite by fast-food hopping both McDonald's and Burger King in quick succession prior to returning to Gloucester Street. "Had I spied a KFC I would have gone there too" was his curt response to my consternation after the sorry feast.
Toby's tea party. This is what going to an all boy's school will do to you
A turn in the weather, resembling the Pennines curse of drizzle, meant that the Sunday would have to be spent indoors - firstly at the engaging Canterbury Museum and afterwards by the warm open fire bosom of the Bard on Avon's pub quiz once again. We'd managed to improve our score and rankings every week we'd been there (without troubling the top tier of contestants) and this time was no different. We finished 6th (out of 11, yes, very respectable indeed considering a healthy dose of questions were once again about New Zealand farming towns) thanks in part to A-bombs knowledge of sea goddess nymphs in Greek mythology. After three torrid and unsuccessful weeks of losing the quiz, we finally won a bar tab of $30 as the master drew out our team name from his fair hat. A fine end to the jaunt in Christchurch.
On a warm Friday night, a few of us from The Coachman visited the AMI Stadium, just outside the CBD, to spectate on the final Super 14's game of the season featuring the most successful team in Super League Rugby history; the Christchurch Crusaders who took on the Canberra Brumbies. Not after we witnessed the bizarre pre-match entertainment from the Crusaders' horsemen - a medieval routine involving eight horses and riders dressed as knights from the local Polo Club who circled the stadium, swords raised high in order to joust the crowd into a fervor.
Not real Knights
We weren't expecting a dense blanket of fog to descend eerily past the floodlights at half time, but we just about managed to see Dan Carter squander a couple of early, fairly straight forward penalty kicks and the colossal Richie McCaw bite into several tackles as the Crusaders cruised to a comfortable 40-22 victory.
The weekend arrived along with a familiar figure in that of my good friend from back home, Tobias, who had recently emigrated to Sydney. Having settled so quickly in his newly adopted city with a magnificent job manipulating an abacus in a local bank as well as a fond reunion in the arms of his native capture, he threw caution to the wind and arranged a short break in Christchurch for a catch up.
Wragg: Surprise visit
I could not think of a more pleasant way to spend a dry autumnal day than a soothing punt down the River Avon. We reluctantly embarked on the rickety wooden boat and were welcomed by our fellow passengers, a quiet couple from South Korea and the hollow figure of an English girl, with indifference. However, their serene journey down the mouth of the stream may have been ruined somewhat by our 'hilarious' observations and outbreaks of laughter as we swayed past carefree golden eyed ducks and lugubrious willow trees.
Giving Pinsent and Redgrave a run for their money
In order to conjure our lost traces of machismo after the quaint boat trip, we bought a treat at the popular-with-new mothers - Cupcake Boutique, before taking a leisurely stroll beneath the procession of English oak trees hidden within the Botanic Gardens. After a day of being somewhat too civilized and cultured, we were in desperate need of the remedy of a strong ale and a kick of a flat football in the dorm room before venturing out to the busy Poplar Street, to celebrate the day and sit by a chained up moped in the Vespa Bar before a few shots of cool, imported Russian vodka at Izba. The night wouldn't be complete without a quick jive on the notorious technicolour dance floor of Boogie Nights, before Tobias demonstrated his unfathomable appetite by fast-food hopping both McDonald's and Burger King in quick succession prior to returning to Gloucester Street. "Had I spied a KFC I would have gone there too" was his curt response to my consternation after the sorry feast.
Toby's tea party. This is what going to an all boy's school will do to you
A turn in the weather, resembling the Pennines curse of drizzle, meant that the Sunday would have to be spent indoors - firstly at the engaging Canterbury Museum and afterwards by the warm open fire bosom of the Bard on Avon's pub quiz once again. We'd managed to improve our score and rankings every week we'd been there (without troubling the top tier of contestants) and this time was no different. We finished 6th (out of 11, yes, very respectable indeed considering a healthy dose of questions were once again about New Zealand farming towns) thanks in part to A-bombs knowledge of sea goddess nymphs in Greek mythology. After three torrid and unsuccessful weeks of losing the quiz, we finally won a bar tab of $30 as the master drew out our team name from his fair hat. A fine end to the jaunt in Christchurch.
Christchurch Song of the Day: Miley Cyrus - Party in the USA
During our eventful punt down the Avon we passed a pleasant looking German couple by the grassy banks beyond us. They asked us, with a camera directed towards our boat, to sing to them to demonstrate our enjoyment of the aquatic experience. Tobias and I decided to give them, and the rest of our crew, a rousing version of Miley Cyrus's feel good hit of the summer, 'Party in the USA'.
Our Edwardian costumed punter, with straw hat on top of a fuzzy barnet, actually had the audacity of asking if we 'were high or something' on hearing our rhapsody.
Miley's Version - less upbeat then ours: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M11SvDtPBhA
During our eventful punt down the Avon we passed a pleasant looking German couple by the grassy banks beyond us. They asked us, with a camera directed towards our boat, to sing to them to demonstrate our enjoyment of the aquatic experience. Tobias and I decided to give them, and the rest of our crew, a rousing version of Miley Cyrus's feel good hit of the summer, 'Party in the USA'.
Our Edwardian costumed punter, with straw hat on top of a fuzzy barnet, actually had the audacity of asking if we 'were high or something' on hearing our rhapsody.
Miley's Version - less upbeat then ours: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M11SvDtPBhA
Oscar Wilde would be proud of such a rich grasp of prose:
That’s when the taxi man turned on the radio / And the Jay-Z song was on / So I put my hands up / They’re playin’ my song / The butterflies fly away / I’m noddin’ my head like “Yeah!” / Movin’ my hips like “Yeah!” / Got my hands up / They’re playin’ my song / They know I’m gonna be okay
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!
i-Pod Song of the Day: John Legend - PDA - (We Just Don't Care)
There's nothing wrong with some smooth Rhythm and Blues now and again.
In my humble opinion, Legend has never been better then when he played a minor, non-speaking role in the 2008 movie Soul Men. You may recall that he played the deceased lead singer of a fictitious soul group that includes Samuel L. Jackson and the late Bernie Mac.
Marvel at John Legend's carefree attitude towards public embraces. This is pretty much how I'll be spending my time in Rio:
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1c6rs_john-legend-p-d-a-we-just-dont-care_music
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