Queenstown

First off, I apologize for the lack of posts.  Hopefully, I can get all of them in tonight, but otherwise, I will fill them in as I go.  Most of them are outdated, but stories nonetheless.

Onto Queenstown...

It's difficult to put down into words exactly what went down in Queenstown.  As Les so eloquently put it, "It took a month out of my wallet and a year off of my life."  We rolled into Queensotwn on a Monday and were immediately overwhelmed and stressed by the amount of people and cars swarming the streets.  You have to understand that the previous three weeks have not exactly been epitomized by "urban dwelling" or any human interaction for that matter.  We have stayed at a couple campsites or hostels along the way, but each were just a glorified, flatter piece of grass to pitch a tent than the rocky river beds we had previously called home.  Driving into Queenstown was every bit of a culture shock as it was for me visiting Minneapolis for the first time after living in Montana for a year or so.  Busy.

Queenstown initially didn't impress me.  I could confidently attribute that to the ridiculous stress level we had reached when having to deal with "one ways", pedestrian cross walks, round abouts and street lights.  You also have to remember that we are driving on the right side of the car and on the left side of the road, so everything is completely ass backwards.  We finally did find the hostel.  It was called the "Backpackers Lakeside".  The girls met us there and we planned for kind of a last hoorah for the five of us before we begin most of our back country trips and they continue on to do whatever it is they are going to do.  The hostel actually had rooms for $25 per person and the rooms had beds.  I hadn't slept in a bed for all of at least 3 weeks.  I'm not gonna lie, it felt pretty damn outstanding.  The hostel was right on the lake and about a 3 minute walk from downtown.  It was a pretty perfect location.  Queenstown slowly was winning back some points.

Because this town is so touristy and there really aren't too many good fishing options close to Queenstown, we decided to dedicate the next two days to living it up in the city.  This is where I cue my mother to stop reading.  Ha!

Instead of doing a play by play and reminiscing all of the seemingly poor decisions we made in the process, let me just try to describe the nights events in a few phrases.  Drinks were had, ear drums suffered, sleep was lost, fun was had and I pissed off a pier into the lake.

A few notable spots were riding the bull at the cowboy bar, which is about the most stereotypical American cowboy bar in New Zealand.  More American than most American bars in America.  We ate at Fergburger, which is open late night and is extra sloppy when consumed late at night.  Not sure exactly why.  Jesse Lance Robbins can rest assured that his record of two Big Al Fergburgers in one day is safe.  Nobody even attempted it out of pure fear of such a task.

We made friends with a Brit named Louis who ended our second night by taking us to a bar called the "Boiling Room" where they stay open until 4 am, and yes mother, we closed it down.  All of the other places were less memorable, however they all contributed to our less than desirable states come Wednesday.

Since Queenstown is the capital of extreme activities, we spent our final day jet boating in Shotover Canyon, just outside of town.  I was a little skeptical of the entire thing because it was damn expensive and it didn't seem like anything mind blowing.  However, I was soon proven wrong.  These jet boats hold about 12 people and they are essentially a giant wave runner.  They load you in wearing a poncho and a life jacket and take you full speed down this canyon that at times will maybe fit 1 1/2 of these boats wide.  The captain of this boat came within inches from hitting these sheer rock walls and then followed that by twirling his finger in the air to tell us to hold on for the 360 degree flip he's about to do.  I would recommend it to anyone traveling here to give that a go.  I didn't get to bungee jump, but on our way back through, I'm hoping to knock that one off the bucket list.

Overall, Queenstown was a blast.  It definitely dug a hole in the wallet a bit, but I don't regret any of it.  I can always catch up on sleep later.  I can't always party like an asshole in Queenstown.  You only live once, right?

I have to say, though, it did feel pretty nice getting back into the countryside and fall asleep under the stars on my sleeping pad as opposed to a mattress.  What made it better was ending our first day back on the water with the rod bent with a beautiful 4.5lb brown.  It kept our group's "no skunk" streak alive just a shade before dark.  Let's hope I didn't jinx it.  Who's got some wood I can knock on?