Lyttelton’s demolition.
Lyttelton is now without the Volcano restaurant, famous (among other things) for being run by a man who played a character called Count Homogenized on a children’s TV programme. I let a secret slip there too, in 1997. I still feel bad about that. Next door to the Volcano was the Lava Bar. Their margaritas were excellent. The Gound Deli is rubble, the Royal Hotel is nearly gone despite the ‘Yes, We’re Open’ sign. The Loons is open but it doesn’t look very safe. St Joseph’s is red-stickered and the Lyttelton Coffee Co. appears to be set to go. The Wunderbar gets to live on but I’m not sure where. I have never been to the Harbourlight Theatre and I’ll never get to go. God Save The Queen is red-stickered, and the Lyttelton Museum doesn’t look at all sound. It had a fascinating collection on offer. I hope it has been salvaged. The cannon that lived outside has gone. And the Timeball Station is of no use to anyone on a ship who wants to set their chronometer.
I was told that the cranes on the wharf jumped their tracks in the earthquake but are far too heavy to be manoeuvred back on to them. There is no equipment suitable to shift them.
And the trip through the 2km Lyttelton tunnel is a bit more exciting than it used to be. The front of the Tunnel Control building, sporting thick distorted steel bars, and behind large shipping containers, is testament to the danger posed by falling boulders. My normal route to Heathcote is blocked by more shipping containers placed along the motorway to form a shield against even more rocks being shed by Castle Rock.
It’s all a bit hard to take in.
Despite the encouraging ‘Yes we’re open’ sign, it seems that the front room of that building is, sadly, filled with its own roof.