Christchurch

We are all checked in and settled into our hotel here in Christchurch. We are staying at the Warners Historic Hotel, which is some sort of historic hotel with internet access, but no central heat (each room has a wall-mounted heater unit). The rooms have old-school metal keys (as opposed to a key card) that are attached to a big chunk of wood (3" x 2"). While that does make it rather hard to loose the key, it is a little awkward to have in one's pocket. As honeymooners, the hotel upgraded our room on the house, which we thought was very kind of them.

We took a walk earlier in the day, looking for a place to have lunch. It turns out, however, that almost all of the restaurants in Christchurch are closed for lunch on Sunday. Bah. We ended up eating in the hotel restaurant. Jen had a lamb salad, I had bruschetta.

The walk was fruitful, however, in that we got to experience a kiwi cuckoo clock chiming the hour. It was an enormous egg-shaped clock with a kiwi sitting on top. When it was time to do its thing, the side of the egg opened up and there were several scenes played out about different phases of New Zealand history. Without a narrator, it was more or less nonsensical. There was a bit with a sheep getting shorn and sporting a poodle show cut, something about rugby, a random bungee jumper, and it closed with an alien riding a hover bike. We really don't know what the last part was supposed to be, but I'll see if I can trade in the Toyota Carola that we are renting for one of those hover bikes.

We had dinner at the Tandori Palace, an Indian restaurant next door to the hotel. Jen had a basket of nan (the way tasty Indian flat bread) as big as her head (I am, for once, not exaggerating when I use that idiom) and I had a chicken curry. All the food was excellent. Jen had a glass of the ginger beer, which was very good, and I had a local beer: the Monteiths Dark. I'm not quite sure where it falls in the beer taxonomy, perhaps a dark lager? Regardless, it gets two thumbs up: Smooth, complex flavor with a hint of spice and almost no aftertaste. The evening was made, however, by the Crazy Mongolian (complete with fur-lined hat) who peered into the window next to our table and started talking. We are not sure if he was trying to talk to us or was content to converse with the voices in his head.

Tomorrow is the big day. Jen is getting up at 5 to start prepping ... I will be getting up significantly later, as I am a guy and thus relatively low maintenance.