QUEENSTOWN
Queenstown is one of the places most visitors to New Zealand are told they ought not to miss. I’d not been there and frankly had been given mixed information about this bustling metropolis. I needed to go there for myself and decide once I’d experienced the sensation. With a special offer accepted and my friend Jane as company, the trip was a goer! The summer season was at its end and the winter, yet to begin. 2007 has proved to be one of the warmest May’s on record and despite hopes, there has been no substantial snowfall as yet, so the mountains are devoid of the blanket to which many visitors flock. The ski-fields here are among the best, not just in New Zealand, but in the world. Anyhow, on with my impressions.
It’s quite a long drive from Dunedin. You have to move south to start with, then you veer west and then north, passing through Lawrence, Roxburgh, Alexandra, Cromwell and Frankton, though the boundary of that town has well and truly merged with Queenstown now! For part of the trip we travel along the banks of the Clutha, its swirling blue waters mesmerising. High in trees just past Alexandra were huge pine cones, not yet ripe enough to fall, but tantalisingly hanging there, out of reach of even the most determined collector. The cones are the largest I have ever seen, some growing to over a foot in depth and about 18 inches in circumference!
Once Cromwell is passed, we turned left and moved through the Kawarau Gorge. The water along this stretch of the country is frighteningly powerful, none less than at the Roaring Meg power transforming plant. The deep turquoise water looks pretty but holds a deadly secret. The water truly does roar as it hurtles through deep gullys and over submerged rocks, leaving eddying swirls on the surface. The contrast of blue and white looked more like some elaborate patchwork, than the fluid movement it ought to have been!
Close to here, a couple years ago, an NZ army “unimog” missed the road and careered down the cliff, killing the young squaddies on board. I am sure their families will never forget their sons and I hope my posting this on my site will let them know, their sons wont ever be forgotten by the nation who heard the news, with horror. Seeing this river and its torrents, it’s clear why those lads never stood a chance. May they find the peace they so richly deserve.
Coming out of the gorge and along to Frankton, we first passed Lake Hayes. It’s a beautiful lake and one I’d love to explore more fully. All the way along were vineyards, currently at their rest period, but in a few months the bustle of preparing for a new season will explode, along with the new leaves and buds. Seeing the rose bushes all along the boundaries, an indicator for the winemaker of any bugs or diseases in the area, was quite something, as though it is late, many were still full of blooms.
Queenstown and Frankton merge seamlessly, with them both being on the shores of one of the largest lakes I’ve ever seen. Jane knew roughly where to go and soon found her way through to Fernhill. The Hotel I’d had the offer from, was easy to find and the accommodation was comfortable, though basic. A non-serviced room is just that. No-one plays Mum to you, coming in and making your bed, there are fresh towels hung in a bag on your door each day but you have to put out the wet ones, you wash up your cup if you have the rather yukky tea/coffee they leave (you need to buy your own milk if you take it, like I do!) and no-one vacuums the floors until you leave! As I said, basic but adequate for 3 days! The views ought to have been wonderful given its location, but the basic rooms faced apartments and the car park, not the Remarkables and Lake Wakatipu! I took these photos before the light faded that first night!
Dining in the restaurant was an experience, too! With a voucher that was sufficient for two evening meals, we decided to use it the first night as we’d no idea what we’d find if we went into the town looking for food without sussing things for ourselves, first! The Maitre De turned out to be from Argentina, as did many of the staff members! Others were from Brazil. It makes me wonder why young Kiwi’s don’t live the high life here instead of trekking all over the world and becoming more disillusioned when things aren’t what they expect! The food was good and the service was fine, but sadly the bright lighting meant any evening views across the water were obliterated. Muted lights and subdued music could’ve changed things for me, but then, most people don’t go there to remain in their hotel during the evenings, the nightlife and café culture appealing to most!
After discovering that the room was unbearably hot, the only way to get any sleep was to sleep with just a sheet over me. Fitful though it was, I got just enough sleep to function the next day! Homesickness wasn’t helping – I’d not been away from home overnight since I’d been here and I really wasn’t coping well!
This is the view I woke to the next day. The sun was smearing the sky with magnificent oranges and reds, leaving quite an unearthly colour to the whole area!
We had breakfast, etc, then continued north to the tiny settlement called Glenorchy. The rugged hills had caught the imagination of more than just us. When he was seeking locations for his Oscar winning movies, Peter Jackson decided that this was one of the key places for his films. In fact, for those with the spare cash, Lord of the Rings Tours are available, taking you where Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, Gollum et al, walked. We decided that the fee was a little steeper than we’d be able to afford, so we contented ourselves with a quick look in the Fur Factory. Here (if you’re squeamish miss this bit!), possums are turned into souvenir items and clothing. The possum, though a very pretty creature, is actually a huge pest here and as such, humane control methods have had to be introduced. They are killing native birds and animals, some of which are endangered, and destroying native forest, taking away valuable habitat. Much as I love them, I accept that introducing them in the 1860’s, from Australia, was a mistake and something does need to be done.
On the way up, we’d stopped for me to take those photos and as I stepped out onto the verge, my foot struck some dead bracken sticks, leaving me with several long splinters lodged in my right arch. Trust me to be wearing sandals! We asked at the fur factory whether they could spare a pin or needle for the splinters to be worked out! With that in hand, a seat outside a café (closed for a break) was the ideal spot to get down to the task. As Jane (a nurse) took care of the patient (boy, it was sore) we were joined by Scotty – the townships most friendly cat! He dribbled all over me, purring like a trooper, before going and sitting under a gum tree, into which flew a Kereru!
We had lunch here before coming back along the same route, spotting things we’d missed on the way up. One was a waterfall, totally hidden unless you were facing that way. With a nice safe place to pull off the road and explore, we did. The stream ran over a really pretty collection of rocks and on, into the lake. The ranges this side of the lake were still quite high, so the momentum they had gained on their way means that small rivers like this soon become quite fierce torrents. It taught me never to underestimate the power of small flows!
Hunters had also used this car park, both for a safe park and to portion up their kill. It wasn’t nice, but the evidence of successful trips was there, as were spent cartridges. I do wish they’d be more ecologically aware and take the inorganic waste home with them and dispose of the organic matter away from areas others might wish to enjoy!
We came back into Queenstown and explored the shops, pausing to look up at the famous Skyline Gondola and its intrepid users.
No WAY would you get me into one of those little cars, heading way up there! We decided, after a long walk that taking something back to the hotel for our evening meal, was the best idea. That night I did sleep pretty well, again, under just a sheet.