We then walked around Hagley Park, but the bulk of it, the Botanical Gardens, was closed due to storm damage. We returned to the hotel and separated for our individual disappointing experiences. Somchai arranged for a massage. He wanted a male masseur but the woman on the phone was a bit offended, so he said he needed a very hard, strong massage. She said she'd see what she could do, which he thought meant find a male masseur, but a half hour later, Iron Ruth was at the door, (and gave such a hard massage that he still complains about it). I wanted to go to the gym, which the hotel doesn't have but the helpful concierge gave me a complimentary voucher to a gym in the city as well as directions. What he didn't get me, however, was opening hours, which don't include the weekend.

Sore Somchai and flabby Brian then went to dinner at Azure, one of a half dozen riverside restaurants and bars where all of Christchurch seems to be drinking. We got to see the locals decked out for a night out, which resembles the scene in a Northern English city, ladies with too much makeup and too short skirts and too high heels, guys dressed like slobs, wearing only t shirts and freezing. Also, all age groups seemed to hang out at these bars, and it was quite a happy scene overall. We returned to the hotel late, and I stayed up most of the night because the bed was marshmallow soft and there was a deluge of water pouring from the roof all night onto the balcony, although it hadn't rained for a couple of days.