A Flying Trip to Christchurch.

Fair Play, Volume I, Issue 23, 2 July 1894, Page 9

A Flying Trip to Christchurch.

[By The Weary Fragment.]

The City of the Plains is the Mecca of New Zealand, especially to an inhabitant of Wellington, by reason of the strong contrast offered by the radical difference between the formation of the two cities. Wellington, built on the thin strip of land between the waters of the harbour and the foot of the hills, so cramped that as it grows it has to fight the waters to reclaim sufficient ground to accommodate its ever increasing population, is a very different spectacle from the broad area of Hat country on which Christchurch stands. Wellington is full of bustle, and there is an air of temporariness about it. Both these elements are lacking in Christchurch, and, as if to compensate, there is an appearance of solidity, permanent wealth, and comfort that is not noticeable in the Empire City. The streets are broad and well-cared for, stately buildings abound, and outside the city limits the eye can look over miles and miles of fertile country, bordered in the direction of the coast by the blue hills that skirt the harbour at Lyttelton. I was undecided as to how I should spend a brief holiday, until 'the suggestion was made to take a Hying trip to Lyttelton by the s.s. Tasmania. The whistle is blowing for all who are not passengers to go ashore, and in a few moments the hawser is cast off and we are steaming to the Heads. The day is a beautiful one, and the water as clear as glass; even as we forge out into the open sea the swell is scarcely perceptible, and the invigorating salt breeze is extremely refreshing after the heat and dust of the city. We have but few passengers, but the majority, notwithstanding that the vessel barely oscillates, precipitately retire to their cabins as soon as we get away from the Heads. The rest of us lounge about the decks, occasionally interviewing the barman, the chief engineer, or the captain. I place the barman first, as somehow or other I became better acquainted with him than any of the other officials during our brief voyage. It would be superfluous to attempt to give in detail a description of the panorama unfolded by the coast line as we journey South. Most of our readers know it better than the writer, and its appearance is an oft-told tale. To my mind the great pleasure in travelling, however short the distance may be, is the fact that at least for a time all worry is left behind. There is a sense of absolute freedom from care if one has the happy faculty of living only in the present. When we leave port we leave our old enemy, worry, behind us; he may be waiting for us at the termination of the journey, but on the open sea his attacks are repelled by the laughing winds, and the sense of utter freedom which invades one’s moral atmosphere absolutely precludes the idea of servitude to any person or thing. To my mind there is nothing more delightful than the dolce far niente one experiences on a beautiful night at sea; to me the great drawback was that the voyage was only too short —one little drop from the waters of Lethe, a few short hours of its soothing influence and the dream, like the sudden

disarrangement of a kaleidoscopic picture, is disturbed as we steam into Lyttelton harbour. It is early morning, and, to tell the truth, Lyttelton, taking it all round, is luvrdly tho most interesting port in the world. On first appoaranco it gives ono the impression of a ininiaturo Wellington, with its shoes somowhat down at the heels, and in a state of chronic seedinoss and laissea faire dissipation. .There are tho same tiresome liUls, tho usual array of second-class publichousos, a fair amount of wind, and plenty of dust. In my cursory and necossarily limited tour of observation, I may have libelled the good-City of Lyttelton, but I only give my impressions, and if they are objectionable I bog leave to apologize boforo any action is taken in the matter. Fortunately our stay hero is very briof, as but a comparatively few minutes elapso boforo the train starts for Christbhuroh. One thing on this Bhort railway journey is worth mentioning, and that is its almost interminable tunnol, which takos hourly five minutes to pass through. Tho train burrows right through the coast lino, and emerges iuto tho fertile flat oouutry boyond. n a beautiful plain on which tho city is built. To give a sirotoh of Christchurch in this limited papor, and as a result of the few hours that I had at my disposal for observation, would bo to attempt an impossible tour deforce. I can only mention a* few of the points that struck, mo. I was first impressed with tho wide streotis and plazas, tho number of handsome buildings, and the vast oxpnnso of tho city. Nothing was crampod, and thoro was a gonoral freedom of space, that scorned to give what our American cousins call “plenty of elbow room.” Tho funny little motors and tramcars, too, attracted my attention as they passed by laden with excursionists. Aftor a short stroll, during which I mot a number of professional friends, and took a comprehensive glance at a portion of tho beautiful city in which I found myself hunger began to make its claims hoard, and I found myself, in company with my friends, seated in Coker’s Hotel at breakfast, discussing plans as to tho day’s amusomont. It was unanimously voted that, as I had to return that afternoon, the best project was a drive, and in pursuanco of tho idea, wo soon found ourselves bowling along a series of roads that would have compared favourably with tho Parisian boulevard; We first visited the gardens, and well may tho Christchurch people be proud of them ; I lmvo soon nothing mole bonufciful South of the Lino. Tho Avon rivor engaged our admiring attention, and furnished tho one olement necessary to completo the picturesque boauty of what is undoubtedly tho prettiest city in tho colonies. I was very sorry when tho drive was over, although I relished tho excellent dinner provided at tho White Hart Hotel, and I was still more sorry when tho timo camo to take my departure, as invitations flowed in from all sidos, and I honestly believe that I could have stoppod in Christchurch for a fortnight, so kindly was tho hospitality evinced by my friends and thoso to whom I was introduced. We all wont down to the boat together, and at last, with mutual good wishes, we steamed away. Back to mountainous Wellington, back to daily routino work, back to calls for “ copy," and sarcastic requests that “ those proofs bo hurried up, as tho formo is woitingbut with a lingering recollection of tho ploasurablo outing, and the pleasant anticipation of another visit.