Queenstown – Scuppered
I didn’t really know what to expect on arrival in Queenstown. I’d heard it was the adventure capital of New Zealand, the home of the Bungee Jump (yeah, thanks for inflicting that on the world, guys), and close to a lot of good ski resorts. But apart from that, none of which was my thing, I knew nothing. Nothing new there, then.
The journey there was great, really great. I’d booked on a bog standard Intercity bus, but the drivers were worth their weight in gold. It became like a tour. They gave us commentary about the areas we were passing through (including some of the areas used in the Lord of The Rings films), and, when we passed a particularly scenic spot, would stop the bus for 5 minutes while we all got off and took photos. Marvellous, a real credit to the company.
We arrived in Queenstown, and I was instantly dazzled by all the sun (and bleach) bleached hair. LOTS of adventure junkies around, with trousers you just want to yank up, and who say “dude” far, FAR more times than is necessary (i.e. never). I’d chosen to stay (and thankfully, nobody talked me out of it this time) at the Lakeside YHA – unknowingly following in Andy’s footsteps – which was great, big kitchen, nice views, nice staff. Poifect. I really wanted to go over to the coast and see Milford Sound, which I knew would be a huge daytrip but probably worth it, but I arrived too late to book it for the next day. So the next day I spent happily getting lost and wandering round Queenstown, which surrounds a very pretty lake, then heading back to the hostel to relax with my book.
I was up bright and early the next day, had my toast and peanut butter, and was ready and waiting for the bus to take me to Milford Sound. As soon as I saw it I dashed out the door, eagerly asking, “Milford Sound?” “Yeah”, the guy sighed, “But it’s not happening”. He explained further – apparently the road leading to Milford Sound had been closed due to a very high avalanche risk. Darn. There was no chance of getting near it that day (poor bloke didn’t get paid either, so I tried not to be TOO much of the pouting princess). So, there went my plans for the day, and I don’t respond well to not having plans. I rebooked for the next day (even though it was unlikely to happen), and meandered aimlessly around the town again, though I was quite excited to find another Hitchen – albeit in the wonderfully picturesque graveyard.
Another early night, this time in the hope of Milford Sound the next day, though that hope was fading fast. And I was right. Despite another early start, another early round of toast and peanut butter, the trip was no-go yet again. Damn avalanches. Realising I would continue to be scuppered by the weather (and yes, feeling a bit sorry for myself), I decided to call a halt on the South Island and head back to Christchurch the next day, and so booked a bus.
The rest of the day in Queenstown was very good. I made the journey up the Gondola, and was rewarded with some pretty spectacular views.
Up at the top, I took a half-hour (steep!) walk on a circuit that again, took in some lovely views, only this time less crowded. Well worth the effort, and lovely to get the feeling that nobody else has been there for a long time.
So, the next day saw yet ANOTHER early start, only this time with purpose. I headed back to Christchurch and the blissful familiarity of family, booked myself on a flight to Wellington a couple of days later, and enjoyed Sheila’s incredible hospitality yet again. I was headed North, to meet up with old friends – well, not my old friends, but they would soon become them.
Tags: New Zealand, Travel
Suzanne