Edoras, Christchurch and Some Amusing Anecdotes

Edoras (Mount Sunday)

Reflections

Big Fish

Christchurch Sculpture

Christchurch Cathedral Damage from Earthquake

Christchurch Sculpture

Painting by Dutch Artist Petrus van der Velden at Christchurch Art Gallery

Lookout Above Christchurch

Adorable Cottage in Akaroa

Akaroa Lighthouse

On the Mekong River in Cambodia

TTTS Director Ryan Goble with Little Folks

On our way to Christchurch, we had an opportunity to visit the gold standard of “Lord of the Rings” filming locations, Mount Sunday, a sheer-sided hill where the film crew needed nine months to build the fictional city (and castle) of Edoras. I have always loved that particular setting in the movie, so it was a thrill to see it in person, even though all evidence of any structures has been demolished and removed. My guess is that the filming must have taken place in autumn, as the surrounding snow-capped mountains matched almost exactly what you see in the second movie.

To reach Mount Sunday, Herman had to navigate 20 kilometers of a gravel road, which took us a good hour to avoid damaging our non-4WD vehicle. He even forded a stream! Needless to say, the scenery along our slow drive made it all worthwhile.

Afterwards, we made the long drive to Christchurch, where we’ve been vegging out for the last three days. We plan on taking it easy until Wednesday, when we’re driving on to Kaikoura for two nights, Blenheim for one night, then a ferry ride back to the North Island.

We’re also taking care of some personal “housekeeping” issues, such as a car checkup and haircuts. A haircut is a very personal thing for me, so I place a lot of faith in the stylist who cuts my rounded bob, a classic style that has been around for at least 30-40 years. Short of paying to fly my stylist of 20 years, Maria Romanello, here to New Zealand, I’m forced to rely on a stranger—not a palatable thought on my part—but I’ve put it off as long as I can. Wish me luck.

Christchurch is still recovering from the terrible earthquake that hit the city in 2011, thus many of the tourist attractions we visited 20 years ago are still closed. I remember on our last visit thinking that we would like to live in Christchurch, but it’s grown so much and endured so much damage that the inner city is not as inviting as it once was. However, we did visit the Christchurch Art Gallery, opened in 2003. The collection was a nice mixture of classical to modern, spaced out over two floors, and I would recommend it. Their café serves one of the most amazing cheese/charcuterie platters I’ve ever had the pleasure to eat.

Outside the city center, in the surrounding hills, there is no end to the walking/hiking/biking trails. We drove to an outlook point and struggled to reach our destination amid the cyclists who seemed to be effortlessly biking up the hill. Even on the way to the seaside town of Akaroa, the oldest town in Canterbury, cyclists crowded the narrow, windy road. Of course, between the narrow roads and the cyclists, our half-day tour turned into a most-of-the day drive. Our backsides did not thank us for that. Where is a transporter (a la “Star Trek”} when you need one?

When I started this blog, I mentioned that there have been numerous interesting escapades during my/our travels throughout the years, so here are a couple of stories to keep you entertained until the next blog:

The Cambodian Elevator Heist

In May 2004, I interviewed Art Education Professor Carlos Silveira at CSULB, my last place of employment, about his receipt of a humanitarian award. During our conversation, he told me about his desire to work with disenfranchised Cambodian children by using art to empower their voices so they could express their wishes and desires. I was so taken with his passion and commitment to the project, that eight months later, I landed in Cambodia with a two-man crew to produce a documentary titled, “To Touch the Soul.”

At one point during the three weeks of filming, my film crew and I were in an auditorium on the top floor (5^th or 6^th) of the Pannasastra University of Cambodia, where both the Cambodian and CSULB university students were meeting with Carlos. Although January is considered the coolest and driest time of the year, Phnom Penh was still humid, with daytime temperatures in the 80s, thus the top floor was a bit stifling.

I had spent time in the ground-floor library before, using the computer for e-mails and updates to my website, and I knew that it was one of the few rooms in the building with air conditioning. Apparently, so did quite a diverse group of people. It was rather amusing to be sitting next to a monk dressed in the traditional orange robes and sandals as we both made use of modern technology.

Since mental images of icebergs and snow were not enough to overcome the physical heat on the upper floor and my film crew seemed to have everything in hand, I headed for a small elevator hidden behind a heavy curtain in a corner alcove. With thoughts in my head of cool breezes wafting over my body from the library’s AC, I mindlessly pushed the button to call the elevator to the top floor and stepped into the cubicle. The elevator door closed at the same time as the interior lights went out.

Hmm, I thought. Okay, let’s try pushing the “Open Door” button. Nothing. Let’s try waiting to see if the power comes back on. Five minutes later, it’s beginning to get a bit warm in such a small, enclosed space. I wasn’t alarmed about being stuck in the elevator, but I was a bit concerned about how long it might take before someone discovered my disappearance. Since I didn’t want to interrupt my crew’s work or Carlos and the students, I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. This was going to be embarrassing.

Hoping to alert someone without too much drama, I weakly called out, “Hello?” Silence. A little louder, “Hello?” Nada. Okay, it was time to pull out all the stops and yell, “Help!” Fortunately, someone with really good hearing alerted Carlos, the students AND the film crew to my predicament, so now the entire group, with camera rolling, were congregated outside the elevator. While one of the students went to alert a caretaker, the rest of the group made many a joke at my expense and even sang a song. Finally, the doors popped open and everyone cheered. I threatened my film crew with dire consequences if the footage ever saw the light of day (the fiscal power of a producer has its advantages). I believe I am the only one in possession of this footage. And my captor, the elevator, has wisely stayed mum.

The Hurricane Cruise

In 2010, Herman and I took a cruise to South America that would sail from Buenos Aires, Argentina, around Cape Horn to Valparaiso, Chile. We were pretty excited about this trip due to the opportunity to see King Penguins on the Falkland Islands. Well, we hoped we’d make it to the Falklands. About 50 percent of cruises fail to send tender boats to the Falklands due to the sea and weather conditions. That part of the ocean is often called “The Washing Machine,” and now I know why.

On the day we drew close to the Falklands, our captain announced that conditions were calm enough to allow everyone to visit the capital Stanley via the tender boats. The trip to Stanley via the boats was uneventful, and we booked a tour on a 4WD vehicle to bump and sway across the hillsides until we reached the King Penguin colony. At that point, a cold wind began to blow along with some sleet. Even the penguins were beginning to gather in groups for protection against the weather. That should have been a warning sign.

By the time we got back to the city center, the cruise personnel were hustling people back onto the tenders. We were on one of the last ones able to leave the harbor. What a ride! The little boat tossed and turned, with waves sending water onto the floorboards, and I wondered if we should start bailing it out. Fortunately, we made it to the boat, which sailed off with haste.

Within 12 hours, the ship was bucking like a bronco. When the front of the ship would hit a wave, the resulting impact would vibrate through the entire ship, from stem to stern. The crew and the captain warned everyone to stay off the outside decks, though the interior activities, such as the restaurant and the top-floor viewing platforms were still open.

We decided to have lunch because we weren’t sure if there would be a dinner service. All around us, you could hear plates crashing to the floor. We sat by a window, which wasn’t the wisest thing to do, since we had a first-hand view of the undulating waves. I’m not given to seasickness, but I must admit to a bit of queasiness at that point. As we finished, the crew announced that the restaurant was closing. Before we went to our cabin, we stopped up top at the enclosed viewing platform. That was intimidating to watch waves crashing over the 11^th floor level of a cruise ship when it plunged into a wave’s trough!

For the next 36 hours, we were prisoners in our cabin, leaning left and right or stumbling across the room while holding on to anything immovable, due to the manipulation of the ballast, which was the only way to keep the propeller and rudder in the water under such conditions. When I told this story to a friend, this person commented that it must have been difficult to take a bath. I replied, “Take a bath? Hell, you thought twice about going to the bathroom!”

Fortunately, the ship didn’t sustain any serious damage, and there was only one passenger injury. We were told that, at the height of the storm, we were enduring 90-foot waves and over 100-mph winds! Once the danger was behind us, everyone laughed and joked about buying t-shirts that said, “I survived the hurricane cruise of 2010.” I still haven’t received mine.