Wednesday was finally the day: our entire lives, packed into moving boxes or endless rolls of bubble wrap, reached New Zealand soil. Naturally, we wanted to be there in person to watch our ship pull into Lyttelton Harbour.

The arrival tracker predicted a 9:00 AM arrival. So, at 8:00 AM, the routine began: waving the kids off to school, heart hands, blowing kisses, door shut – and straight into the car!

However, a quick check of the app briefly dampened our excitement: Thomas noticed the ship was still idling in the open sea. The entrance to Lyttelton Harbour is a real bottleneck – only one large vessel can navigate the channel at a time. Either another ship has to leave first, or someone else is already on their way in.

So, we decided to head up to Godley Head. From there, we hoped to spot our ship out at sea and then track its progress along the coastal road all the way into the port.

When we reached the summit, our “steamer” was nothing more than a tiny speck on the horizon. We clearly had some time on our hands – so we spent it exploring the historic coastal defense batteries.

Background: Godley Head during World War II

The bunkers and gun emplacements were built during World War II, after the attack on Pearl Harbor intensified fears of a possible Japanese invasion in New Zealand. Lyttelton Harbour was of enormous strategic importance for the supply of the South Island—which is why a coastal defense facility was constructed here.

Today, the circular concrete emplacements are a true highlight. Local artists have painted them beautifully and respectfully—an impressive mix of history and modern art.

I was especially moved by the stories of the women from the Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps who were stationed here. They worked on radar systems, operated searchlights, and supported the defense systems—tasks that had previously been reserved exclusively for men. Their service impressively showed that women could master these technical and demanding tasks just as well. After the war, this had a lasting impact on the perception of women’s roles in New Zealand society and was an important step on the path toward equality.

Suddenly, things started moving: the ship picked up speed!

At that moment, two men arrived at the lookout point. I thought they must be people who also wanted to watch their container come in, but no. After the usual “How are you?”, we proudly explained why we were standing there.

The reaction was wonderfully New Zealander: “Wow, that’s amazing! Your whole life is coming in after three months at sea – wow, that’s so cool!”

It turned out that the two of them were from the DOC (Department of Conservation) and were checking on things. They also told us how much the painted bunkers are respected here: in all these years, it had never happened that someone sprayed over or damaged the graffiti artworks. The respect for the art and the history of this place runs deep with the Kiwis. And it was truly lovely to see how much they shared in our joy.

Since the ship still had to wait for the small tugboats to arrive, we decided to drive on to the next lookout point—it was also a bit more sheltered from the wind there.

Hardly had we pulled into the parking lot when we encountered two more men. We briefly shared our story again. Suddenly, one of them switched to German: “Ah, Germany! I studied near Nuremberg for two years—a great time!” Thomas grinned: “You were in Altdorf, weren’t you?” The Kiwi looked completely stunned: “How do you know that?!” Thomas laughed: “We met you right here last year while on holiday—and you told us then!” The world really is small. Or perhaps New Zealand is just a magical place. He told us that he lives with his wife in the little house up there and that we should definitely drop by for a coffee sometime. We most certainly will!

Shortly after, we went back to the car to warm up—and at that exact moment, my sister Steffi called. While we had a cozy chat, she was sitting on her sofa in Munich in the evening, while I was sitting in a car on a windy cliff at the other end of the world in the morning, waiting for our container ship.

Suddenly, Thomas flung the car door open: “Vroni, come out—the ship is about to come around the corner!” I jumped out of the car, phone still to my ear, started the camera, and ran up the small path toward the bend. And there it was: the colossus slowly rounded the corner, majestically guided by two small tugboats. My sister was there live—Munich and New Zealand at the same time.

Then everything happened very fast: we jumped back into the car and drove along the winding road that runs along the hillside parallel to the harbour entrance. Even though we had a few more detours and bends than the ship on the water, we actually managed to arrive at the next lookout just before the harbour ahead of it.

While we were taking photos and filming, I suddenly went very quiet. In one of those containers are our beloved sofa, the coffee machine, the record player—and Ferdinand’s four boxes full of Lego, among many other things. My eyes welled up. Is this already menopause, am I being too emotional? Or is it simply the overwhelming reality that all our belongings have sailed halfway around the world and are now arriving right here before our eyes?

After the ship was safely “parked” in the harbour with the help of the two boats—one pulling, one pushing—and the modern straddle carriers moved into position, we turned our attention to a small group of vintage cars that had pulled into the parking lot shortly before. A beautiful contrast: modern logistics meets old classics. I sent a photo of them to a friend who drives vintage cars himself. His reply: “Oh, such beautiful cars, only the steering wheel is on the wrong side.”

After this welcoming tour, which had lasted the entire morning, we decided: we’ve earned a nice lunch at the harbour. Thomas grinned: “Now it’s time for a seafood chowder!”

In about a week, the container will be delivered to our rental house. Then we’ll see if everything arrived in one piece. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

A Feast for the Senses at Riccarton Bush Market

Saturday morning, 20 degrees, and brilliant sunshine—a perfect morning to finally head to the Riccarton Bush Market, which had been recommended to us by friends several times.

So: “Marie, Ferdinand—get up, get dressed, we’re going to the market!” The teenage reaction was predictably subdued: “Do we have to? Can’t we just stay here?” We didn’t want to argue for long, so our answer was: “Sure, stay if you like—then there’s more for us. Bye!”

Dear kids, this next part is especially for you: To be honest, I thought it would just be a normal market. A bit of fruit, some vegetables, a few stalls. But I couldn’t have been more wrong—I was completely blown away. The market is nestled in the middle of an ancient park. A small river meanders through the grounds, lined by gigantic, majestic trees and lovingly tended flower beds. The autumn sun glitters through the dense canopy.

Children balance on tree trunks overhanging the water while gentle acoustic music plays in the background. And that scent everywhere: freshly baked waffles, steaming dumplings, sizzling bacon. There are no “Please keep off the grass” signs here like in the parks of Singapore. You just grab your picnic blanket and sit on the lawn, by the riverbank, or anywhere under a tree.

We started with an authentic Chai Latte—not that instant stuff, but black tea simmered for hours in large pots with milk and spices like cinnamon and cardamom. We paired it with a warm cherry turnover.

Then came the ultimate stop at “Bacon Bros”: a sourdough ciabatta, toasted on the grill in bacon sauce and filled with avocado, a hash brown (Reiberdatschi), BBQ sauce, and crispy bacon. While we waited for our food, we listened to two musicians playing under a massive eucalyptus tree. With our haul in hand, we sat by the edge of the stream, watched the eels in the water, and simply enjoyed life.

To finish, we bought some fresh bread, vegetables, and jam to take home—and, of course, sent the kids a few photos with the message: “You guys really missed out.”

Above the Rooftops and New Friendships

Saturday ended just as beautifully as it had begun. In the afternoon, we viewed a house just for fun and then stopped by some friends who are currently in the middle of a renovation. Perfect timing for us—because there was a large scaffold standing right in front of their house.

With a cold Hazy Ale in hand, we climbed to the top and enjoyed the fantastic view over Westmorland Park. It’s interesting that here in Christchurch—at least in this park—only about 20% of the trees lose their leaves in winter. The rest stay green; a mix of conifers, palms, and evergreen broadleaf trees. A lovely thought for the coming cold season.

The evening then held a personal highlight for me. The weekend before, I had met Barbara through friends—and I was already invited to her birthday party at a chic rooftop cocktail bar. So: cap off, dressed up, and off to the city.

There were seven of us women in total. Two of them I hadn’t met before—but after this evening, I knew them much better. There was plenty of laughter, toasting, and storytelling. And the best part: the next evening is already planned—this time cocktails first, followed by dancing at a club.

And to wrap things up, here are a few impressions from our Sunday hike today – from Lyttelton to Godley Head once again, but with much better weather.

See you soon, and sunny greetings from the Southern Hemisphere!