Dockside Accommodation — Hotel in Banks Peninsula Community

I arrived in Lyttleton from the airport in my hire-car with a confirmed three-night booking at Dockside. I had programmed the address into my GPS and aimed my car for the Dockside's address. ||||Following the directions of the chirpy lady in the little box on my windscreen, I approached my destination marked by the chequered flag on the screen. Roadside gave way to huge concrete blocks and a sign on the road, amid some debris, announced that access to properties beyond number 12 (or thereabouts) was blocked. I wanted number 22. I tried my luck and drove on. continued on and, yep, the sign was right. The road had become a construction site (the earthquake, you see).||||Where there is a locked front door, there is always an open back door. So I read the map on the GPS and worked out how to go around the top of the hill and execute a rear-side attack. It was a real trip. The earthquake has made a hell of a mess. Very narrow roads, crumbling edges, hairpins that would make a hairpin sweat and hills steeper than those roads in San Francisco that the bad guys spin their cars around when they run from the cops.||||All this ended up with the same result except now I was on the other side of the construction site and the sign said something about the road being blocked from number 26 down (or something like that). ||||What this all means is that number 22 Sumner Road is on a steep hill in the middle of a road construction site and the only way to get to it is to drag your luggage 50 metres up or down the bumpy pavement (the change in elevation depending on whether you have executed a front-on or rear-end attack). ||||Note bene, you will be bumping said luggage along that bumpy little sidewalk all by yourself because Dockside is not staffed by anyone.||||And once you have dragged your luggage up or down to the friendless front gate, noticed the telephone number on the small wooden sign on the edge of the building that says words to the effect "For accommodation ring ....", rung that number from your mobile (because you have a mobile phone and were clever enough to have previously obtained a local simcard at the airport or are prepared to use your international call roaming), you will be informed by the disembodied and unsurprised voice that your room is down the side of the building - by the steep stairs down which you can bumpety-bump your bags some more and it folllows, when you leave, bumpety-bump all the back up... and all by yourself.||||And then you see it your room and you go inside. ||||Dockside is basic. You would be in no danger of confusing it with your home, unless you are at the stage of your life when sharing well-worn cheap and cheerful digs near the university is still a statement of youthful independence. ||||There is no staff on site, no air-conditioning, no screens on the windows that you must open because there is no air-conditioning, no breakfast and now, since the earthquake, no direct car access. It does have, however, a great view of the harbour (so does nearly every place in Lyttleton) and a nice feeling of separation from the rest of the village (but that probably goes for any part of Lyttleton as well and is part of the place's general attraction).||||Now, please don't think that I am coming down hard on people who are struggling with the calamity of the earthquake. I always make every allowance for that. The past few years have not been easy for the Christchurch people (especially for Lyttleton, which was at the earthquake's epicentre). It's not the owners' fault that the property stands where it does and I am more than happy to stay in a place that has received such an unfair blow, and damage does not put me off. Actually, I would stay there preferentially just to support it. It is really not a problem for me.||||My problem with Dockside is that the owners did not do anything to make me feel a little welcome and to give me a soupcon of assistance - or even just moral support - in taking up residence. It is what hoteliers are meant to do. I mean, it's the position description.||||For example, I would have so appreciated some clear and written instructions to help me work my way around the roads and landslips; the physical presence of the owner with a smile, perhaps a handshake and maybe even some help with my luggage (even though I am able-bodied, like everyone else, I get tired). ||||In case you might think that I am being demanding by expecting people to turn up, I'm not. I'm quite okay with there being no-one to receive me as long as it is explained to me that unfortunately the owners can't make it there when I arrive and I am told what I should do to make myself comfortable. And that they will be around later (yes, they really should, really).||||Then the matter of fundamental facilities. I am talking about air. I arrived on a hot day. The room was hot and stuffy - foetid. I wanted to turn on the air-conditioning. There was some type of fan structure in the ceiling attached to wires that measured the temperature but it was clearly totally inadequate, whatever it was. Alright, I though, no matter - I'll just open the windows. Well, they were already ajar and there was still absolutely no air movement, not even on the verandah, just a torpid closeness. ||||And then, finally, in my head, I took my stand: "I'm going to sleep here, on the side of a hill covered in lush, damp bushes, with open windows and no fly-screens?? Can you imagine what that will be like?? For three nights???" ||||"No, Peter" I said (Peter, that's me). "I'm too old to put up with this."||||So I wound my way back up the bumpy hill, got into my car, turned on the air-con, rang up my travel agent, cancelled my booking at Dockside and booked myself into a hotel near the airport at double the price. ||||As I drove away, the owner rang me and requested my credit card number for the payment of one night's accommodation. I paid it happily.||||I am now at the alternative hotel and, believe me, it's...

I arrived in Lyttleton from the airport in my hire-car with a confirmed three-night booking at Dockside. I had programmed the address into my GPS and aimed my car for the Dockside's address. ||||Following the directions of the chirpy lady in the little box on my windscreen, I approached my destination marked by the chequered flag on the screen. Roadside gave way to huge concrete blocks and a sign on the road, amid some debris, announced that access to properties beyond number 12 (or thereabouts) was blocked. I wanted number 22. I tried my luck and drove on. continued on and, yep, the sign was right. The road had become a construction site (the earthquake, you see).||||Where there is a locked front door, there is always an open back door. So I read the map on the GPS and worked out how to go around the top of the hill and execute a rear-side attack. It was a real trip. The earthquake has made a hell of a mess. Very narrow roads, crumbling edges, hairpins that would make a hairpin sweat and hills steeper than those roads in San Francisco that the bad guys spin their cars around when they run from the cops.||||All this ended up with the same result except now I was on the other side of the construction site and the sign said something about the road being blocked from number 26 down (or something like that). ||||What this all means is that number 22 Sumner Road is on a steep hill in the middle of a road construction site and the only way to get to it is to drag your luggage 50 metres up or down the bumpy pavement (the change in elevation depending on whether you have executed a front-on or rear-end attack). ||||Note bene, you will be bumping said luggage along that bumpy little sidewalk all by yourself because Dockside is not staffed by anyone.||||And once you have dragged your luggage up or down to the friendless front gate, noticed the telephone number on the small wooden sign on the edge of the building that says words to the effect "For accommodation ring ....", rung that number from your mobile (because you have a mobile phone and were clever enough to have previously obtained a local simcard at the airport or are prepared to use your international call roaming), you will be informed by the disembodied and unsurprised voice that your room is down the side of the building - by the steep stairs down which you can bumpety-bump your bags some more and it folllows, when you leave, bumpety-bump all the back up... and all by yourself.||||And then you see it your room and you go inside. ||||Dockside is basic. You would be in no danger of confusing it with your home, unless you are at the stage of your life when sharing well-worn cheap and cheerful digs near the university is still a statement of youthful independence. ||||There is no staff on site, no air-conditioning, no screens on the windows that you must open because there is no air-conditioning, no breakfast and now, since the earthquake, no direct car access. It does have, however, a great view of the harbour (so does nearly every place in Lyttleton) and a nice feeling of separation from the rest of the village (but that probably goes for any part of Lyttleton as well and is part of the place's general attraction).||||Now, please don't think that I am coming down hard on people who are struggling with the calamity of the earthquake. I always make every allowance for that. The past few years have not been easy for the Christchurch people (especially for Lyttleton, which was at the earthquake's epicentre). It's not the owners' fault that the property stands where it does and I am more than happy to stay in a place that has received such an unfair blow, and damage does not put me off. Actually, I would stay there preferentially just to support it. It is really not a problem for me.||||My problem with Dockside is that the owners did not do anything to make me feel a little welcome and to give me a soupcon of assistance - or even just moral support - in taking up residence. It is what hoteliers are meant to do. I mean, it's the position description.||||For example, I would have so appreciated some clear and written instructions to help me work my way around the roads and landslips; the physical presence of the owner with a smile, perhaps a handshake and maybe even some help with my luggage (even though I am able-bodied, like everyone else, I get tired). ||||In case you might think that I am being demanding by expecting people to turn up, I'm not. I'm quite okay with there being no-one to receive me as long as it is explained to me that unfortunately the owners can't make it there when I arrive and I am told what I should do to make myself comfortable. And that they will be around later (yes, they really should, really).||||Then the matter of fundamental facilities. I am talking about air. I arrived on a hot day. The room was hot and stuffy - foetid. I wanted to turn on the air-conditioning. There was some type of fan structure in the ceiling attached to wires that measured the temperature but it was clearly totally inadequate, whatever it was. Alright, I though, no matter - I'll just open the windows. Well, they were already ajar and there was still absolutely no air movement, not even on the verandah, just a torpid closeness. ||||And then, finally, in my head, I took my stand: "I'm going to sleep here, on the side of a hill covered in lush, damp bushes, with open windows and no fly-screens?? Can you imagine what that will be like?? For three nights???" ||||"No, Peter" I said (Peter, that's me). "I'm too old to put up with this."||||So I wound my way back up the bumpy hill, got into my car, turned on the air-con, rang up my travel agent, cancelled my booking at Dockside and booked myself into a hotel near the airport at double the price. ||||As I drove away, the owner rang me and requested my credit card number for the payment of one night's accommodation. I paid it happily.||||I am now at the alternative hotel and, believe me, it's...

Despite the lack of reviews since 2017 (and last activity on their FB page in 2016), this place is still going. Only the two bedroom apartment was available when I booked, and while we didn't need that much room, it's got to be the best of the lot surely. ||||More like a house than an apartment, loads of room, loaded bookshelves, full dining table, a deck, amazing view, pretty good view from the main bedroom as well, wifi, full size fridge/freezer. Only stayed one night but would have liked another. ||||There are a couple of quirks to the situation. It's not clear which unit is which. Unit 2 turned out to be the first one you come across, rather than going down the side of the building to the lower level. At first we were confused as there seemed to be no signage. The shower is pretty tight, even for a smaller person. Bring your own milk. We didn't use the TV so can't comment on that. Parking is a bit interesting - you can park on the other side of the road even though it's kind of up against a wall. Generally other cars are parked along there as well so do as they do. ||||Many thanks to who I assume is the owner/one of the owners, who retreived a hat of mine that was blown off my head into what was a private part of the property. ||||While you're in Lyttleton check out Eruption Brewing for food and drinks, and go up to the Lyttleton Timeball for a bunch of history including how it all came down in the big quake and the tower was...