Read Online TRAVELING AROUND THE WORLD: Our Tales of Delights and Disasters by Shelley Row - Free Book Online Page B

feet in diameter. The previously quiet, clear river was swollen and muddy. It was unnerving. But it was nothing compared to what was coming. First was the sight of the Canterbury Museum. The façade had broken stones, and the statue in front was toppled off its base smashing the head. We turned the corner of our street to face the Arts Center directly across from our hotel. We ate dinner at a charming restaurant there on our first night. The façade was in shambles. Stones from the tall gabled roof shattered on the pavement below covering tables, chairs and umbrellas. Gabled ends were completely gone, exposing rooms with clothes hanging inside. Farther along, the side of an adjacent building collapsed. These were 1800-era buildings that added to the charm of Christchurch. The two of us walked past army vehicles as far as we could but then were stopped at the river where the day before we’d gone punting. From there, we could see the Cathedral. The gabled end with its rose window seemed fine until we realized that the tall spire was quite simply missing. Gone. Yesterday, its bells chimed over the crowd and today it was rubble. I can only imagine the horror of those who were in the square as it fell. Mike remembered that he took a video of the chiming bells less than forty-eight hours earlier. We replayed that video and listened with sadness while struggling to comprehend that these sounds and the happy buzz of people were now silent.
     
    Feeling oddly empty and stunned, we returned to our hotel. Cracks ran alongside the exterior and we stepped over brick rubble from the collapsed chimney of the next door building. But – joy! – the hotel was open, people were inside, and our room was largely unharmed (tilted mirror, plaster dust from cracked walls, dislocated shower door). And we could stay there overnight. There would be no sleeping in the makeshift tents erected in the park.
     
    And so began a most unusual evening. Others arrived and gathered in the large living room. Our proprietor, Peter, was there and was more concerned about caring for us than attending to his damaged, but still safe, house. Decorative items inside and outside the hotel were in pieces, bottles of alcohol were thrown onto the floor and smashed. Most of it had been cleaned up by the time we had arrived. There was no power so Peter was busily placing candles on the floor all around the dark house. The only other lights were from flashlights and camera flashes. No restaurants were open nor were there operable cooking facilities in the house. Everyone pitched in. We’d bought trail mix, Peter and his wife, Jan, put out cheese and crackers. Someone else made a salad with smoked mushrooms, and, thankfully, Peter provided wine. I was very happy for a glass – or two – of wine. Everyone had a story and everyone was uneasy. One couple was in the Arts Center as it began to come apart. I was glad we had been outside of Christchurch when the earthquake struck. We’d surely have been downtown like so many others.
     
    We shared stories, ate what we had, drank wine, and Peter played the piano. It was almost enough to distract from the aftershocks. Peter and Jan waited for other guests to arrive and settled them in as much as possible. Before going to bed, he played one last tune on the piano and Jan sang while candles burned peacefully on the floor even as aftershocks shook the house. How hopeful to hear a cheery, “ Que sera, sera; whatever will be will be ,” fill the living room as the floor quivered and windows vibrated.
     
    Mike and I went to bed, but with the first strong aftershock, the room rocked, the window rattled, and, afterward, the coat hangers in the closet jangled a high-pitched, tinkling sound. Eerie. The next aftershock shot me out of bed. I felt more stable in the new part of the house than in our room in the original section. So I curled up on the sofa under a fuzzy blanket, wearing my robe and shoes, and holding a flashlight. Candles