On the road to Oamaru

We left Christchurch on boxing day (Dec. 26) getting urged on our way with a small 5.1 earthquake.  I misjudged  how long it would take to get there and expected we would be there for lunch.  Around noon everyone was getting hungry so we stopped to dine alfresco at a roadside park.

We finally arrived at the Red Kettle Hostel mid-afternoon.  We were the only guests coming in because it was closed for Boxing Day so we had the whole place to ourselves. I liked the hostel well enough.  The beds were comfortable and there was a spacious common room which we had to ourselves the first night.

The entrance to our hostel was very welcoming

The Criterion Hotel stood on the principal corner of the historic district

Things were very quiet in Oamaru as it was still a holiday and would be for two more days.  Alison took the kids to a well-equipped playground just down the street from our lodgings and Bob, Lolly and I went on a short expedition to look at the town.  We drove down to the historic district where the tourism office was (open) and got the information of penguins.  Then we took a little round through the Old Historic District.  We drove slowly down a narrow street flanked on each side by tall white limestone buildings.  Not a soul was to be seen!  It had a spooky, otherworldly feel to it like an abandoned set from a movie back lot.  I could almost hear the ghosts of  stonecutters and miners arguing with sailors and whalers fresh from the sea.  We stopped at the old Criterion Hotel on the corner and went into the saloon to have a beer.  It was built in 1877 and operated as a hotel until 1906, when, with Prohibition grasping the world by its dry throat, it became a temperance hotel. The ground floor was used mostly for a confectionary and soft drink shop (how sad!).  It then went into years of decline, finally being salvaged in 1987 because of its historic value.


 A few "regulars" were nestled in the corner near the door discussing local politics.  A classic wooden bar with tall wooden cabinetry at the rear housing half empty bottles of Scotch and gin sparsely occupying the shelves.  We ordered three beers (Speight's?), which were drawn from one of the tall brass spigots along its edge by a tall gray-haired barman with his sleeves rolled half up his arm and wide suspenders holding up his droopy wrinkled trousers.  We took our beers and sat at one of the three tables queued up along the windows facing the less than busy street.

Our room had a bunk bed and a single

In addition to housing the saloon, the Criterion is also a B&B, although I will say, the common rooms were not very appealing.  They had an old and musty feel about them like the ghosts met there often for tea.  We gawked around the various public rooms after we finished our beer and headed back to the Red Kettle to make supper and get out to see the penguins.