Never go back?
They say you should never go back or try to recapture the wonder of places and experiences of your youth. But, while not replicating the original, sometimes the passage of time can make the outcome rewarding and interesting.
They say you should never go back or try to recapture the wonder of places and experiences of your youth. But, while not replicating the original, sometimes the passage of time can make the outcome rewarding and interesting.
Much has changed between my occasional visits to Christchurch in the last four and a half years.
On my first post-earthquakes visit I was awed by wrecked buildings, broken roads, tell-tale see pages that told of cracked water-pipes, portable toilets in the streets, tangles of steel reinforcing on what looked like bomb-sites, barricades, soldiers, and silence in a city echoing sorrow.
Tens of thousands of Kiwis out in the rain over the weekend to protest against the TPP which many thought had been killed off in the last, failed round of talks. But no. In the collective race from commonsense and responsibility to their peoples and institutions, governments are expecting the deal to be finalised later this month. Meanwhile some Ministers have already dismissed the protests.
Funny… it just didn’t seem like Greece. We’d been dazzled by the blue and white on Santorini, subdued by the mainland Greek’s grey and shades of olive and now Corfu looked like Greece’s bohemian cousin, in her green, orange and pink. But then maybe it was Corfu Town’s shabbiness, its charm and its palette of ochre that gave it the taste of Italy.
I grew up in a village called Balmoral where we wished, without a hint of masochism, that the dentist’s drill would shriek; where we knew we were half-way to Hollywood when the cinema doorman took our tickets – dressed in a tuxedo.
Spotted in Auckland’s burbs, last week: a child’s favourite bunny – tied firmly to a lamp post to make sure Big Ears returns home…