Paul Harper: CBD tour 'hits you hard'

Manchester Street in central Christchurch after the 6.3 earthquake. Photo / Simon Baker

It is not until you see it for yourself that the scale of the devastation of last week's earthquake in Christchurch becomes apparent.

Images of beautiful historical churches and cathedrals, much-loved homes, shops and office blocks now scarred or reduced to rubble are hard to take, but when you can stand in the middle of a central city street - in our country's most beautiful city - and see the destruction just everywhere around you it hits you hard.

Media bus tours the CBD, leaving the Art Gallery twice a day, every day. Yesterday morning, the bus was crammed - many from Asia - photographers, reporters, and camera crews looking to see for themselves the damage wrought by the quake.

The bus travels along Gloucester St, one of the worst hit city streets. Cars are crushed under the weight of bricks, shop fronts and facades have collapsed onto the pavement, glass litters the road from windows shattered and buildings are tagged with the familiar 'do not enter codes' of the international teams who have checked them.

As we turn into Colombo St, Christchurch's most famous building comes into view, but the Cathedral is not its usual glorious self.

When reports soon after the quake said the Cathedral had lost its spire, my first reaction was disbelief. When the first images of the battered building were aired, it was heartbreaking.

Earlier in the day media were told that searchers had not found the 20 or so bodies believed to have been buried in the site. Looking at the amount of rubble piled alongside the building it seems amazing good fortune, considering the vast numbers of tourists who visit the popular attraction.

Once outside the bus photographers and camera crews vie for the prime positions to capture the Cathedral in its undignified state.

Without its spire it seems castrated. Gaping holes in the walls and windows scar the building. Standing in the square, the Cathedral is not the only building to have suffered. The tram still sits on its rails, waiting for its next passengers; the chess pieces sit waiting for the next players, whenever that will be.

A Japanese photographer beside me on the bus asks me if I am from Christchurch. I tell him I'm from Auckland. He tells me it is the fourth time he has taken the tour. I ask him whether it gets easier to cope emotionally each time.

"It doesn't get any easier," he says.

The bus parks alongside the Avon, across the river from the PGC building. The massive efforts of the rescuers and workers is evident; no longer is there the mangled mess of steel and concrete after the building collapsed in the quake, rather the pile of debris now looks more like a rubbish dump than the remains of a building.

I'm told the site has been crawling with rescue workers in the days since the quake. Yesterday it was eerily quiet, apart from the rapid fire clicks of SLR cameras.

Across the road coffee cups still sit on a table at a cafe. A car parked on Oxford Terrace still has a parking ticket under the windscreen wiper, issued at 12.05pm, 45 minutes before the quake.

The river weaving through the city is as picturesque as ever, but Christchurch certainly does not feel like the tourist destination it was for me when I first visited in 2009.

The last site we visit is the CTV building. The stench of the fire that smouldered for days hampering rescue efforts still remains, reminding us of how fresh the tragedy is. Like the PGC site the CTV building has been cleared considerably since the quake; here there is a somewhat barren site, but for the remaining northern section of the building that protrudes out of the ground like a headstone.

Looking at the site from behind a cordon some 100-odd metres away, it doesn't appear likely many more bodies will be recovered intact from the site. The site appears entirely searched, there simply is nowhere for them to be. Unfortunately many families are not going to have the bodies of their loved ones returned to them.

The tour is distressing, but as a reporter covering this story since the quake hit, it had to be done to really appreciate what has happened. It has been suggested the sites could be opened to be viewed by the public at some stage, perhaps on the national day of mourning. I hope Cantabrians have the opportunity as it may help them with the enormous grieving process that lies ahead.