When Herman the German (aka Stefan) and I were booking these two weeks, I was quite definite about wanting to travel the Trans-Coastal train route from Christchurch to Picton where I would then take the Inter-Islander Ferry to Wellington, New Zealand’s capital city. The best way to get from the west coast to the east coast is via the Trans-Alpine train, which goes over Arthur’s Pass and several viaducts. But in my (admittedly limited) research about the Trans-Alpine, I read a review (on-line) that it was overrated and that the scenery wasn’t much to write home about, save your money and buy a nice merino wool and possum fur sweater.

   Well, first of all, a merino and possum sweater costs a LOT more than a train ticket, but I admit I was apprehensive about the journey when we started off and I saw a lot of this. But, it turns out that the Trans-Alpine is not overrated. I’ll be the first to admit that I am not as well-traveled as I would like to be. The summer after college backpacking through Europe was not on my post-graduate schedule. Following a man to a different city was, however, and I stayed in that city for 16 years. The point is that I have nothing much to compare this train trip to – although the scenery was reminiscent of Glacier and Yosemite National Parks. Arthur’s Pass and the viaducts overrated?  Not a chance.

   Along the way there was a commentary from one of the conductors, but with the Kiwi accent and the way she ended all her sentences as though they were questions, I had a hard time understanding her. Here are some of my notes: 

   The note about coal is actually important, since the railroad line between Christchurch and Greymouth was primarily constructed to transport from large reserves that were discovered in 1848 on the west side of the island near Greymouth.  Since the harbor at Greymouth wasn’t deep enough to handle large ships, the government built the railroad now used by TranzAlpine to access the  deep water port at Lyttelton, near Christchurch.  By the way, even though the coal has high sulfur content, it’s exported to China where “dirty” coal is regularly burned.

   We crossed the Alpine Fault that stretches 6oo km up the spine of the south island, the on-land boundary of the Pacific and Australian plates. According to geologists, the fault is due for a whopper in the next 40 years. Sound familiar? No word on whether the quakes that happened in 2010 and 2011 were the predicted whoppers.

   Otira, which is not a city, or a village, but a hamlet with a population around 50 people, was next. A few years ago, a couple passengers on the alpine route noticed that the Otira hotel was up for sale and bought it – then noticed once the transaction was complete that they had also purchased the town hall, the swimming pool, etc. They were offered $1 million for the lot last year and declined.  Not much to the place: tiny miner’s cottages with rust-streaked corrugated roofs, their identical faces differentiated only by lattice or ornate porch posts.  Every building is in a different state of repair. Sheep graze in a narrow paddock between front yards and the train track. The train stopped here to pick up a couple of passengers before going through the Otira tunnel and on to Arthur’s Pass when everyone was ordered back inside for the duration.

  The Otira Tunnel was started 1908 and completed 1923 and at 8.5 kilometers (5.3 miles), it was the longest in the British Empire at the time and one of the longest in the world.  The climb from Otira to Arthur’s Pass station is about 820 feet on a 1 / 33 gradient. From the ‘60s until the late ‘90s, electric locomotives were used to haul trains through the tunnel so that diesel fumes didn’t build up in the enclosed area.  The electric locomotives were decommissioned in 1997. Now, after the train enters, there is a sophisticated fan system (read: I don’t quite understand how it works exactly because the information online is vague) extracts diesel fumes.  We swayed through the tunnel a full 20 minutes, and even with fans running, the air was thick. There was a five minute stop at Arthur’s Pass Station, about 2400 feet above sea level.

   Although the scenic qualities of the route had become apparent by that time, the really good stuff was ahead as we crossed steel girder bridges. The highest viaduct on the route is the famous Staircase Viaduct, which is 240 feet above the Waimakiriri River. I didn’t have the stomach to be out on the observation car, so I did my best from my seat.

   The ride terminated at Christchurch. Most of us know that Christchurch, New Zealand experienced a magnitude 7.1 earthquake in September 2010. The shaker devastated the central business district of the city, and the area is still cordoned off, official vehicles only, braces on building fronts, rubble in the streets (whether from the start of repairs or the accumulation of damage debris).  Since that quake, others have struck: February 22, 2011, magnitude 6.3; June 13, 2011, mag. 5.6 and yet again the same day, a 6.3. The before and after photographs I found here are dramatic and kind of cool to look at.

   There was a little glitch in the plans where the shuttle driver dropped me off at the wrong hostel, which turned out to be the right hostel, but then was scheduled to pick me up the next morning at the other hostel … No matter. I had a room (a single one!) which was quite comfortable until someone decided to start a car that had a screeching fan belt at midnight. Then there was the crew that came in from the bars around 2 a.m. And the person who got up around five, clearing his throat and spitting up phlegm. Oh, and the drain that sounded like someone peeing right outside my window. Other than that, it was a great night. One sobering thing – when I checked in, I had to provide a contact name and phone number back in the states. Just in case there was another big earthquake. As a person to resides a few scant miles from the San Andreas and its shenanigans, this should have been of little note. But it wasn’t.

   The most distinctive thing about Christchurch that evening was the quiet. At six o’clock, the city should have been in rush hour, such as rush hour might be in a city of 360,000 souls. But no, not much traffic, even the birds chirped sotto voce. The Garden City is very much a city desert, full of buildings that are uninhabited and/or uninhabitable. Chain link fences surround every other lot; if a person owned a waste disposal business, they’d be in clover right now. According to the shuttle driver, Christchurch has had 10,000 quakes in the past 16 months, starting with the big on in September 2010. Whether these have been bona fide holy-cow-did-you-feel-that-there-was-another-one quakes or not, I don’t know. But it wasn’t the first time I had heard the figure.

   The next time you walk down the street, look at the businesses you pass. Chances are there will be an assortment: a doctor, an attorney’s office, a convenience store, a few cafes, maybe a church. Now consider how many people those businesses employ. How many of them have families to support. How many suppliers are dependent upon those businesses for their own livelihood. And how many employees those suppliers have. And how many family members. You get the idea. We can read about Christchurch in the paper or hear about it on the news and think, those poor buggers, whew, thank God it wasn’t us sitting here on a ticking bomb. I think it’s worth more than a passing thought.

   There’s so much more to this city that I didn’t get to see – disasters have made much of it impassible. It’s worth noting, though, that Christchurch is one of four cities in the world that was planned on a central market square (Philadelphia is another, and I can’t remember the other two). It’s also referred to as the Garden City because of the acres of green space set aside for public enjoyment. In fact, Hagley Park is 407 acres and home of the annual flower shows, the Festival of Flowers in February and the Ellerslie International Flower Show each March. I could go on and on, but all I would be doing is reporting what I’ve researched on-line, since I didn’t get to see and experience it myself.

   Next, on to Wellington via another TranzScenic train across the Canterbury Plains, beside the Pacific and up to Picton, and then across to Windy Wellie.