Right, let’s just get straight to it and talk about Queenstown, one of my favorite places in New Zealand so far. The first official day there dawned bright and early. After having to get up at 6 or 7 every day for the last couple of days, I was sort of in that schedule already, so I don’t think I slept in later than 8 o’ clock. Apparently there was a free breakfast offered until 9 in the kitchen, but since they didn’t tell me about it until after the fact, I didn’t get that until the next morning.
First a little Maori legendary background about Queenstown. Yeah, I know. Indulge me. So Queenstown’s on this big body of water called Lake Wakatipu (which was carved out by a glacier) with the Remarkables on one side and rolling hills on the other. The Maori tribes of the area believed that a monstrous giant named Matau once abducted the chief’s daughter and was then burned to death in his sleep when the Maori hero came to save her. The lake is then in the shape of his body in the fetal position, curled up like an ‘S.’ Queenstown is about where his knee supposedly was. The rise and fall of the lake with the tides is said to be his heartbeat, which didn’t die with the rest of him. There you go, local history in just a paragraph this time.
The legend, as shown in a statue
So since most of my friends were still asleep or doing other things that day, I set off to explore the city a bit and get something to eat. I decided to start down by the waterfront since it was the most obviously scenic place to start and worked my way around the lake. It’s funny because Queenstown is supposed to be one of the biggest hotspots of the South Island and is one of the few “cities” in the area, and yet it was completely deserted first thing in the morning. It’s really more of a mountain lodge kind of place rather than a metropolitan center with lots of people and traffic. I think it’s really popular for the things it offers and for its scenery, but its appeal didn’t really make it overly crowded, which was nice. That changes a bit in the afternoon and evening because it has quite a vibrant night life with lots of clubs and bars, but even then, it’s not impossible to navigate through the town and meet up with someone.
See what I mean? Empty
I strolled around the downtown area for about half an hour, taking pictures of various buildings and just browsing some sites. Even though it was about 9am by then, there still weren’t many people out except the few people getting coffee or taking morning walks. A few gung-ho paragliders were soaring up above the mountain early in the morning, and it was cool to watch them navigate the crosswinds over the lake. I also discovered the infamous Irish Bar Pog Mahones, which is where it all happened on Saint Patrick’s Day, but I’ll get into that a little later. I felt a little bad about one thing, though. As I was sauntering along, taking pictures, a guy ran out of a building a few feet away from me, trailing white smoke behind me. My first instinct was to go, “Oh God, the building’s on fire. I should call the police or something,” but then he was acting so calm and ambivalent about the whole thing, and I sort of convinced myself that they were just fumigating or something. Not five minutes later, cops and fire trucks were swarming all over the street. Opps. Guess I should’ve called after all. Looked like it wasn’t too serious, though. Just a little smoke, from the looks of it. After that, I thought I’d make myself scarce and head back to the water.
I went down to the dock area first and was greeted with a thick layer of fog rolling off the mountains and over the water. Considering that it wasn’t exactly dawn, I was very lucky to see that kind of effect and lighting hanging low in the foreground. No one was really around that area, so I took my time admiring the lake and lining up some nice shots. Then the archway honoring the dead of WWI caught my eye and I started heading that way. Most people end up hanging around the main area of town more than any other place, so it’s hard to believe that a place as beautiful as the Queenstown gardens isn’t more widely known. I followed the footpath off to the left and starting out towards that hill, but before going all the way up, I stopped at this quaint café on the water called “King George V Coronation Bath House” made up of just a large circular room overlooking the lake and with a big crown on top of the building. I had intended to just stop in for a quick bite to eat and a coffee, but once I was there, it was so cozy that I just ordered a full meal. And oh my God. Best breakfast EVER. I took a seat next to the fireplace and browsed through the newspapers there until they brought the most delicious pancakes and chai latte I’ve ever had. They were buttermilk pancakes perfectly fried to get that crispy golden ring around the edges with real blueberries inside. Then, instead of syrup, there was a thin layer of passion fruit pulp swirled around the bottom of the plate so that you could dip your pieces in it. A dusting of powdered sugar on the top and a sampling of cream on the side finished the presentation. Absolute heaven. And the chai latte was just superb as well. The only downside was that it was about $18 altogether for only three pancakes, so I wasn’t completely full. But still, it was worth the luxury for once.
I would’ve stayed there longer, but I didn’t want to waste the day away. Continuing my original quest, I went further up the path to the gardens. And found a Monet painting come to life. Seriously. I can’t believe no one mentioned the gardens to me before arriving in Queenstown, because they’re frickin’ awesome. The first thing I saw coming up the path was a simple gazebo ringed by maple trees and flowers, but then I kept walking and discovered a duck pond, bridges, fountains, and a picturesque view of the lake through the trees. The pictures really don’t do the whole thing justice. If I had my other, higher resolution camera, you might have an idea, but you’ll just have to make do with what I had to work with. I strolled around there for quite a while, deciding to just cruise around and not rush anything that day. I ended up couched under a sycamore tree with my copy of 1984 and lazily watching ducks swim past for the better part of an hour. I would have stayed longer, but my camera was running out of charge, so I decided to return back to the dorm, get a few bars into it, and then attack the afternoon.
Oh, I should mention that I took the long scenic route out of the gardens and passed through some redwood groves reminiscent of back home and passed a few ladies playing tennis at the courts there. The place is pretty large, so you could easily go for a jog, play croquet, go skateboarding, and watch a basketball game in the same afternoon there. It took only five minutes to walk back into town from there, so I did what I’d planned to do and put my camera on the charger right away and then left to get some lunch. That plan took a little detour when I met some of my Stray friends down in the lobby. Apparently some of them were going to go up in the gondolas and take advantage of the luge track up there. The rest were separating off to do other stuff, but the four of them considering the luge extended the invitation to me as well. I figured, eh, why not? After all, I had no further plans for the day aside from walking around and looking at stuff. It worked out perfectly because we all needed food and time to do other things, so we decided to reconvene in about an hour. That gave me time to get lunch and get some charge on my camera.
I ended up going to a place called Devil Burger, a place in competition with Ferg Burger with an underworld kind of theme going for it and then returning to meet up with them. It was basically me, Lindsey (another very tough American guy. Where are they coming from?), Nathan (crazy Australian guy), and…a girl who’s name I can no longer remember, but she had a very strong fascination with Nathan. That was a nice, small number for a day of mindless fun. Tracey (very sweet Irish girl) and a few of her friends tagged along for the walk up there but then separated at the gondola. They just wanted to look at the view and weren’t interested in the adrenaline part of the day. After the stuff that I’ve done here, I honestly didn’t see the ride in the gondola or the ski lift after it as even particularly unsettling. It didn’t even cross my mind that some people might get creeped out by it, so I was a little surprised when Nathan and his love interest started freaking out a bit. Apparently she’s afraid of heights and he’s claustrophobic. The Americans had it together, though. For some reason, they were the ones facing the city while we had to stare at the hill, occasionally leaning out to take pictures of sheep on the hill below. An offer to switch seats in mid-ride was met with horrified silence. Which was kind of funny, actually, since Nathan has done some spectacularly fearless things like jumping off bridges.
Looking down at Queenstown from the gondola
After we were safely (?) on the ground and ready to go, they calmed down considerably. I had planned to take the gondola up there, do one, maybe two luges, and then go back down, but they convinced me to get the special price that required five luges, so that gave us a lot of time on the mountain. Now, when you think of “luging,” what first comes to mind? Is it of a guy lying down on a skateboard and rocketing down an ice chute? Is it of one particularly bad accident that occurred in this last Olympic Games? Is it of speed and hairpin turns and adrenaline? Yeah, that’s what I though, too. What I was actually greeted with was a sort of go-cart looking contraption and a race course down a hill to the finish line. I was both relieved and disappointed to discover that because on the one hand, I didn’t want to die at something I had never done before, but on the other hand, it was like going to watch The Dark Knight in the cinemas and getting Adam West instead. Oh well. It still looked like fun, and we had the whole afternoon to get good at it.
The view from up there was absolutely incredible, and every couple of minutes, another paraglider would jump off the mountain behind us and float down over the city. I was sorely tempted to try that, but I wanted to save my money a bit. Since the Nevis is pretty expensive and the ferries to Milford Sound and Stewart Island were coming up soon, I didn’t want to be short. I think I’ll try that next time. Keep an eye on that large, golden-brown hill to the west that keeps popping up in the shot. That’s Deer Park Heights, and I’ll have more to say about that place for Day Three. We stayed up there and enjoyed the scenery for a while, and then we took the ski lift up the rest of the hill to try out the luging. Nathan and…can I just call her Sally? Yeah, that’s just easier. So Nathan and Sally partnered off and got very involved in getting the perfect couple pose on the lift going up because apparently there was a camera rigged up to take photos of the moment. Lindsey and I didn’t really care, so our photos are just us talking and using large hand gestures instead of looking at the camera. He was telling me about how he does street racing and stuff for fun, so he knows how to make cars drift and turn on a dime at 70mph. Yeah, okay, sure. Needless to say, I didn’t even try to compete with him on the luge. I let the boys have their little race instead of getting in a Mario Kart scenario where I go spinning off the course.
Since we had five tries at the luge each, we took our time about it. We had to do the first one on the “scenic route” course, which is designed to let you practice and figure out the controls first. Then, if you feel confident, you can move up to the standard course. There really isn’t much of a difference. The scenic one is just slightly less steep in some parts. The controls are fairly straightforward as well. To turn, you just lean your body in one direction and shift your weight that way. To brake, you pull back on the handlebars a bit to get some friction going. And to go fast, you obviously do nothing at all. I was a bit understandably occupied at the time, so I’ll steal some promotional pictures from Google to give everyone a taste of what it was like. Like I said before, the boys were out of the gate like the honor of their ancestors was at stake or something, but the girls trailed back to actually figure out how to operate the controls. Sally was pretty slow, so I lapped her without much difficulty, but then I had some trouble rounding a few of the corners at a decent speed. I think the first sled I got was a little bit faulty because it didn’t turn very well unless I through my entire body into a good two seconds before actually turning. The other ones weren’t as difficult for the next four runs. There was one borderline scary moment where I underestimated the curve and nearly went straight into the wooden divider, but I managed to overcorrect it at the last moment. I mean, we had helmets, but I had instinctively tried to stop the cart by putting my feet out, and that’s a nice way to twist an ankle. After that little hiccup, I got the hang of it pretty well.
The luge track, according to Google
The boys were completely at ease, of course, and insisted on going straight to the standard course without any more practice, and we just sort of rolled our eyes and did the same. Each time was a little bit smoother as I got used to the course, and by the last two runs, I was pretty much flying down the course without a whole lot braking. They take your picture at the finish line so that you can purchase it if you want, but we didn’t really have much interest in that.
Right between the fourth and the final runs, Lindsey had the idea of hiking up the big hill behind to try and find the spot where the paragliders launch from. It was a lot steeper than we had first reckoned on, so that was quite a workout. We finally did find them way at the top of the peak and sat around watching them casually walk off the edge. Sadly, I have no pictures, but it was nice and peaceful up there. It was about mid-afternoon by then, so we quickly made our way down, had one final attempt at the luge, and then took the gondola back down into Queenstown. This time, Lindsey and I faced the drop-off while the love birds talked about their romantic photos.
I don’t really recall the rest of that day after the ride back down, so I’m going to assume that I just chilled out at Nomads and went to bed at a decent hour. After all, big day tomorrow with the bungy and all. Ha ha. Look forward to the Nevis, the third highest bungy jumping platform in the world, next time y’all!
