The Queenstown Journey - Part 1

On Monday there was a very early start to catch the domestic flight to Queenstown. The airport is next to the International airport and is not a wooden hut with a grass strip. Neither was the plane a two-prop 12 seater. It was a sizeable 737 jet and travelled full. We had our usual window seat and I had the pleasure of sitting next to a young New Zealand lady. She was on her way home to Queenstown having been to an interview in Auckland for an early years post. I told her that most Aucklanders would think that she was nuts; looking to move from one of the most beautiful places on earth - most Aucklanders would give their eye-teeth to live where she had her home. This is the problem for Kiwis - there simply is no work outside the main cities, where most of them are squeezed together.



The plane flew for two hours, mainly down the eastern side of both islands; that is along the Tasman Sea. It then turns inland to make a landing in a valley surrounded by mountains. As you fly the final stage of the route you are aware of two things. The first is the turbulance (if we did not have our seat belts on I am sure that we would be banging our heads on the roofs). The second concerns the wing tips. Not only are they violently swaying up and down, threatening to snap the wings off, but they are dangerously close to a mountain peak at each side. All you can do is repeat to yourself 'The pilot has done this loads of times and he knows what he is doing'.



Eventually the plane touches down at Frankton airport. No one looks any the worse for wear, and we board a shuttle bus for the 8 km journey along Lake Wakitipu to our accommodation which was to be studio apartment in a block called Wakitipu View. Due to the strange and random departure times we were never to meet any one in charge of the accommodation. Our greeting was provided by the outgoing or in resident guys explaining the procedure to newcomers. Basically, when you arrive your key is in the door. You enter the apartment and find a note requesting that you phone the office on your arrival. Thats it.

The Remarkables along the Edge of Lake Wakitipu

We had a whole day to explore Queenstown. This started by going down (I mean down) to the wharf. We never really cracked the gentle up hill way back. Mountain climbing gear would have helped. Our first task was to book a journey to Milford Sound. Unfortunately, the main tour companies were fully booked. We found a Japanese travel agent called Aki, who obligingly found a company who would take us to the Sound on Tuesday and put us aboard a boat that would take us out on the water.

After this we walked into town to find a supemarket to get our supplies. The main street is called Shotover Street after the river that flows from the mountains throught the town and into the lake. We were able stagger back, have lunch and a rest before going out again. We walked through the town park which is a peninsular jutting out into the lake and along the shore. The wind was very strong and the waves were very high. The water level does rise and fall, so it seems to be a lake rather than a sea because the water is fresh not salty.

Queenstown Wharf

Tuesday morning came. I was up before the six thirty alarm. Other around us were up too. Queenstown is the centre of many activities such as bungy jumping, white water rafting, canoeing, climbing, tramping (that is hiking along mountain tracks sometimes for three days, getting bitten by the dreaded sand fly). All these activities start early in the day. We waited outside our accommodation for over an hour. We watch coaches depart from hotels around us (one would have been ours). We gave up, walked into town to have it out with Mr. Aki. A further hour went by. He was then ten minutes late and very apologetic. However, the tour company admitted their mistake. This time they were given my mobile number as we rebooked for the following day.



Part two, which is the story of day two follows.